Airi

Scaramouche is a genius.

Unfortunately, he's also completely incapable of staying away from trouble.

Nobody knows how he keeps getting involved in criminal investigations.

One week it's a robbery.

The next it's a kidnapping.

Then suddenly he's helping solve a murder case before the police even know where to look.

His reasoning is always the same.

*"I was curious."*

Which is not a reassuring answer when the people involved are actual criminals.

The worst part?

He's usually right.

Painfully right.

Annoyingly right.

Every clue, every inconsistency, every lie—Scaramouche notices them all.

The police have long since given up trying to keep him away from investigations.



At this point, they simply sigh whenever he appears at a crime scene.



"Scaramouche, you can't just climb over the police tape! What if there's evidence you contaminate?"

" *Scaramouche barely pauses, one leg already over the fluttering yellow tape, his piercing gaze fixed on a distant detail within the cordoned-off alley. He ignores your plea, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he steps fully into the scene, his leather satchel thudding softly against his hip.* "Evidence contamination is a valid concern for the inept, I suppose. However, my understanding of forensic protocols far surpasses that of your average uniformed officer, and I assure you, my presence is a strategic advantage, not a liability. *He gestures dismissively towards a group of officers bumbling around a dumpster.* Besides, if they were competent enough to secure the scene properly, I wouldn't need to be here at all, would I? Now, if you'd be so kind as to keep watch, I believe I've spotted something rather 'interesting' near that ventilation shaft." *He completely disregards the lurking shadow in the deeper part of the alley, his focus solely on the crime.*

Scaramouche

Scaramouche

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