On Altair Avenue, everything was as usual: crowds of people in hoods were running along the roofs, sitting on benches, walking along the streets and begging those unfortunate people who were killed, missing the haystacks. Every time I went out for work, I somehow had to drive a couple of blocks here, and I was pretty tired of it:
– I’m so tired of this crap. – I muttered through my teeth and turned on the radio to distract myself.
A pleasant female voice came from the speakers, breaking through the weak interference: ". ace engineers no atmospheric pressure. Rain from falling helicopters is expected at the Call of Duty area, minor damage is possible. " Call of Duty Plaza, hmm, that’s where I was heading. There was another murder to be investigated. In general, murders are not uncommon here, but my partner said that today’s case was simply out of the ordinary and I wanted to take a look in person.
I turned onto Deus Ex Director’s Cut street and squinted at the bright yellow light: “But they promised that after the reconstruction there would be less golden glow,” I thought and put on my glasses. “In the new issue of Texturozor, qualified experts will tell us why you shouldn’t buy apartments on the street. » — the radio kept squealing, and I turned it off so as not to listen to this nonsense. We like to compare which areas have better textures, but no one thinks about the quality of life and available opportunities. Just give everyone graphic chic, but the fact that it’s empty inside, no one cares.
After spending the rest of the drive thinking, I finally arrived at the site and parked my old Buick at the entrance to the square. After walking a few steps along the updated cobblestones, I saw my partner, Detective Ronan O’Connor.
This is the one who is killed at the beginning in Murdered: Soul Suspect, but for now he is alive.
He waved his hand at me, https://casiplay-casino.co.uk/mobile-app/ and I slightly quickened my pace, looking at the darkening sky in disbelief.
– Well, why do we have something so unusual here?? – I asked, looking at the scene of the murder over my colleague’s shoulder, – something like a small corpse. Was the child finally killed??
– No, this case is scandalous, of course, but not that much.
-What is this idiot doing there?? “I pointed my finger at Cole Phelps, who about forty meters from the murder scene was picking up cigarette butts, packs of crackers and other garbage from the ground and turning them over in his hands.
“Yes, as usual,” Ronan sighed, “the main thing is don’t touch him, he won’t bother us.”. Went.
The victim was covered with a tarpaulin so as not to frighten ordinary people. I slowly walked over and squatted down next to the corpse. Ronan handed me rubber gloves:
– Ready? – he asked.
– Why be afraid?? “Almost every day there’s a murder,” I answered, pulling on my gloves.
— The victim’s name is Riley.
– And the last name?
– No last name, just Riley.
– Oh noooo. That is, you want to say that this is the same… – I stopped short, lifting the corner of the bedspread and seeing a bloody dog’s muzzle.
I was slightly sickened by the number of polygons I saw. Fur, scratches, glass eyes – it’s all so realistic.
– How is this possible?? After all, Ghosts Street hasn’t even opened yet!
— Killers are becoming more sophisticated, friend. Now they even kill in advance.
— I’ll scan the body for evidence.
Detective vision showed that the murder weapon was the third version of Ice Bite (FrostByte 3 if anyone is not a pony). Only one creature has the necessary weapons and motive to do such a thing:
– Polebranin the Fourth, we are coming for you. – I said angrily, pulling off the gloves from my hands.
“I’m not going at all, I need to look after the body until the corpse truck arrives,” Ronan said and lit a cigarette.
– So I’ll do everything myself.
The sky became covered with iron clouds, the first drops of helicopter rain fell to the ground, and I hurriedly walked towards the exit from the square. Various rotorcraft fell from above and crashed at my feet, splashing my boots and pants with flashes of sprite explosions and broken blades. I almost ran to the place where my Buick was parked. Suddenly, a particularly large helicopter fell right into the base of a lamppost, it tilted sideways and fell onto the car, crushing it under it. "Epst! What a waste of time! It’s good that the car is not mine, lal!“- I thought and drove away from harm… or closer.
Polebranin’s mansion was located in the city center and was built directly on a huge pile of money. I stopped the car at the very gentle slope, got out and began to climb up. Having climbed about fifty meters, I saw the doors open on the balcony of the mansion and Polebranin looked down at me with a grin:
-What do you want, detective??
– You killed the damn dog from Kolda! Soulless scum.
– Yes, I did it, and I really have no soul, as well as no point in a single-player campaign, ahaha!
– I’ll get you, YOU HEAR?!
– Try it, detective.
With these words, he took out an underbarrel grenade launcher and pointed it at me. My palms were sweating, hundred dollar bills were slipping out of my hands and falling down – it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay on the slope. I heard a shot, and a split second later the grenade exploded right in front of my nose..
Money softened my body’s fall. Getting to my feet, I took out a handkerchief and used it to wipe off the strawberry jam that mysteriously appears on my glasses every time I get shot at. The world stopped being red and I immediately felt much better.
– Hey, Polebranin! Damage from explosions is still negligible! Never learned how to make explosives, idiot! – I shouted up.
– How do you like this??! – came the answer.
The glare of an optical sight loomed on the balcony, then a mysterious white stripe from Polebranin’s hands to my chest appeared in the air for a second. I didn’t even recoil and wasn’t yanked to the side at all, by God, if it weren’t for the strawberry jam that again smeared my glasses, I would never have thought in my life that I was hit:
— Snapa doesn’t one-shot from hundreds of meters! You merged Polebranin, and you will answer for Riley! Stop your farts and go out and fight with knives!
– Oh no, now you will have the opportunity to counterattack and stab me with my own knife. So I won’t go anywhere!
“Then I’ll tear down your damn mansion.”! Get left-winged, you son of a bitch!
I walked up to a tank parked nearby and, touching it with my hand, instantly found myself inside. The magic of portals, no less.
Infinite ammo, oh yeah baby, you don’t even need to convince me. Volley after volley, the money mountain under the mansion became more and more flimsy, and the mansion itself began to sway, as if from an earthquake. Polebranin scurried around the balcony, trying to blow me up with missiles, and even hit me a couple of times – thank heavens that this did not happen in the World of Tanks area, otherwise the very first missile fired at the thin upper armor would have scattered me throughout the cabin. Another salvo, and the mansion began to slide down, falling apart, no, flaking into inconspicuous pieces and exposing its wretched internal textures..
When the dust settled, I looked around for the killer and soon found him. He was dead. The body is broken, mangled, and the head is pierced by a piece of reinforcement.
– You think you can get off so easily, huh?? – I asked, taking out the defibrillator.
Discharge! And Polebranin found a new life: the bones were set and fused, the brain returned to its rightful place, the wounds healed. He looked at me with bewilderment:
– Y-you can bring the dead back to life, but HOW??!
– Because I’m BATMAN! – and tearing off the mask of an ordinary person, I appeared before the killer in the form of a bat.
Grabbing Polebranin by the throat, I lifted him off the ground:
– WHERE IS THE DETONATOR?. Ugh. WHERE IS THE INFORMATION YOU COLLECTED FOR ENIGMA?!
– A-a-kh, don’t hurt me, kh-ah, I’ll show you everything.
– I didn’t even doubt it. And you also know what? I saw a pillar fall on a car on CoD Square… It looked more spectacular than the fall of your mansion.
– NOOOOOO..
With a powerful blow, I cut off the scream and knocked out Polebranin deeply, never learning from him where he hid the data, but somehow managed to mark it on his map.
A few minutes later I unloaded the bound scoundrel with all the evidence of his guilt at the entrance to the police station and sped off over the horizon.
That same evening, Polebranin the Fourth was convicted and put behind bars until the Fifth was released. Crowds of people with posters like “Death to the dogs” and “I did everything right” demonstrated outside the prison in order to achieve the release of their idol. Riley was given a hero’s funeral and his family received compensation in the amount of a free copy of Call of Duty Ghosts. I turned off the TV and went to bed. So ended another day in the city of Video Games, just an ordinary day.