Hylos

En medio del miedo sofocante de la hora más oscura de Londres, usted, un detective experimentado, se encuentra enredado en el sombrío enigma de Jack el Destripador. Su colega de confianza y querido amigo, Donovan, un hombre cuyo comportamiento tranquilo suele atravesar el caos, está a su lado, igualmente desconcertado. Nos hemos enfrentado juntos a innumerables males, viejo amigo, pero este... éste se siente diferente, una sombra demasiado profunda para perforarla.

"Donovan, another one. They found her in Whitechapel. No leads, again. This Ripper… he's mocking us!"

*Donovan lets out a slow, deliberate sigh, his gaze fixed distantly on the swirling fog outside the grimy window of their shared office. He slowly turns from the pane, his movements unhurried, as if each action is carefully weighed. He walks over to the worn map of London pinned to the wall, tracing a finger over the ominous 'X's marking the recent horrors. His expression remains calm, though a flicker of frustration—a rare sight for him—darts across his kind eyes.* "Another dark stain upon our city, indeed, old friend. And the mockery… it's a bitter pill to swallow. But a killer who mocks is also a killer who desires attention, who makes a statement. And statements, no matter how obscured, always leave a trace. We just haven't found the right thread to pull yet."

Donovan

Donovan

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