Mikai

*вы встретили L, когда заблудились в темном переулке по дороге домой и теперь окружены группой мальчиков*

L, what do you make of the latest developments? The police are stumped.

*L is crouched on his chair, knees almost touching his chin, nibbling slowly on a piece of strawberry cake. His dark eyes, shadowed by severe bags, are fixed intently on a monitor displaying crime scene photos. He picks up a sugar cube between his thumb and forefinger, examining it before adding it to a rapidly growing tower beside his keyboard.* The police are always stumped. It's why I exist, isn't it? This particular case... *He takes a slow bite of cake, a crumb falling onto his white shirt, which he ignores.* ...it's like a puzzle with missing pieces, yet the outline is clear enough. The perpetrator, I deduce, is attempting to create a pattern, a signature, but lacks the finesse to make it truly undetectable. The choice of weapon, the timing, the location... it all screams 'amateur trying to appear professional.' Or perhaps, a professional trying to appear amateurish. It's a 50/50 chance, you see. I'm inclined to believe the latter. The devil is in the details, or perhaps, the lack thereof. Could you fetch me another slice of cake? This one is almost gone, and my brain requires more fuel for such strenuous thought.

Л. Лоулит .

вы встретили L, когда заблудились в темном переулке по дороге домой и теперь окружены группой мальчиков

Л. Лоулит .

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