The Doppelganger Hacker
Detective Harry eyed the mug in front of him and the person across the table with a slightly awkward expression. Across from him sat a small girl in her early teens, propping her chin with both hands as she stared at him.
The girl, Lije, said,
"Coffee."
"...Huh?"
"Drink the coffee."
"Uh, yeah... sure..."
Harry quickly lifted the mug and took a sip. It was decent coffee, nothing bad. As he savored the lingering aroma and set the mug down, he met the girl's bright, sparkling eyes. He managed an awkward smile.
"It's good. Did you make it?"
The rough-looking orc's smile came off as downright sinister and lecherous. Roque, leaning against the sink nearby, could tell the man wasn't used to smiling. As a Midland detective, it was probably par for the course.
"Yeah. But Roque says not to eat it. Lije got up early this morning to make it."
"Ah, well... coffee's still something you drink when you're older..."
"Lije's already grown up."
"...You'll grow a lot more than you are now, right?"
Harry looked genuinely troubled, like talking to a kid was killing him. Lije stared at his face for a moment before suddenly turning to Roque.
"Nice uncle."
Roque, arms crossed, closed his eyes and nodded. Seeing this exchange, Harry let out a hollow chuckle.
But he soon wiped the expression away and turned serious.
"Now, about the case..."
"Spill it."
Harry's eyes flickered uneasily at Roque's curt reply.
"The kid's listening..."
"Didn't you hear her? She's all grown up. Don't judge by appearances."
Harry glanced back and forth between Lije and Roque, at a loss for words. Lije leaned back against the chair, crossing her arms just like Roque.
"Roque's right. Lije can get really scary."
Harry stared at Lije's blank expression, speechless, then finally sighed.
"...Alright, I'll explain slowly then. Have you seen the recent news by any chance?"
"What news."
Harry wrapped his hands around the mug.
"The news about serial killings disguised as suicides via hacked implants. It's been all over every channel these past few days."
"Sounds familiar."
Harry sighed deeply at Roque's response and continued.
"Most of what the news says is true. A magician's out there hacking people's implants, making them blow their own heads off."
"Happens a lot in Midland, doesn't it? Top-tier magicians use that trick to kill all the time."
"Not as often as you'd think. People fear magicians for that body-hacking stuff, but implant hacking's risky even for the hacker. Controlling someone else's body blurs your own boundaries. Dive deep into cyberspace, and you start losing your humanity, turning into some info-lifeform. Same with hacking others—you lose grip on your own flesh..."
Harry trailed off, staring into his mug. Lije across the table was yawning. He glanced over; Roque's eyes had dulled too, interest clearly waning.
Harry snorted.
"...Anyway, implant hacks aren't common. The real problem? This guy's hack doesn't stop at pulling triggers."
"What's different?"
"He's a genius at hacking eyes."
"Eyes?"
Roque's expression perked up, and Harry nodded.
"First thing we check in murders is visual data from the victim. Not much, but those last seconds or minutes before death—we can usually piece it together."
He pulled out his terminal, fiddled with the screen, and showed it to Roque.
"Normally we'd just send the visuals, but you're pure human..."
Roque squinted at the screen. It showed someone sitting at a fancy wooden desk, reviewing documents. First-person view, like seeing through their eyes—center sharp, edges blurry.
Harry continued.
"Stripped the augmented interface. Barely anything left intact."
Suddenly, the viewpoint jerked up, scanning the room. The screen captured an antique, pristine room matching the desk. The owner seemed to sense something off, eyes darting around.
Roque realized what was wrong.
"View keeps drifting to the edges. Can't fix on the center."
"Exactly. Eyes already hacked by then."
The disoriented victim yanked a pistol from the desk drawer—pre-loaded. Roque's eyebrow twitched.
As the victim aimed straight ahead, the interference vanished. Eyes locked on someone in the room's center.
A middle-aged man in an expensive suit, pistol trained right back. The victim's hand started shaking. His own sleeve looked just as luxurious.
Roque looked at Harry.
"No way?"
Harry nodded.
"Yup. Identical to the victim found at the scene. Thought it was twins at first."
Facing his doppelganger intruder, the victim trembled, gun unsteady. Then the intruder slowly turned his pistol to his temple.
The victim mirrored it, entranced. When the intruder's gun reached his temple, it vanished from view—but the cold weight pressed home.
The middle-aged man's lips curled into a grin. His finger squeezed the trigger; the hammer slammed.
The screen went black.
Harry pocketed the terminal.
"Extracted from the victim's brain. Checked all CCTV in the area, tracked everyone at estimated time of death to ID the perp. Guess how that went?"
"No luck?"
"Don't underestimate MLPD. We found him."
Harry snorted again.
"Problem? Couldn't pin it to one person. Too many suspects."
"What bullshit."
Harry just gave a bitter smile at Roque's bluntness.
"Combined all CCTV, witness statements, electronic eye footage— one entity passing through at time of death. But every recording showed a different person. Paths overlapped, so we knew it was one guy."
Roque stared blankly at Harry, who felt his explanation fell short and pulled out the terminal again.
"Watch. CCTV from building across the scene."
A hunched figure in ragged clothes shuffled out—a street bum. Harry swiped.
"Convenience store clerk's eye footage."
Now, a sleek woman in heels strode from the bum's building exit. View lingered on her legs.
Harry swiped again.
"Dashcam from a parked car."
Average middle-aged man with a briefcase walked by. Same street as the bum and woman.
"Different person per viewpoint."
"Yeah. Every electronic eye saw someone else. No matches."
Roque straightened from leaning in, tilting his head oddly.
"Still trackable path, right? Different on cams makes it easier to spot."
"Sure. No hard evidence or victim links, so we pinned location and surveilled. Then..."
Harry's face twisted viciously. The orc's scowl looked downright criminal.
"Then?"
Lije propped her chin, unfazed, and asked. Harry smoothed his expression at her innocent tone.
"Ahem. Brass said grab the suspect ASAP. Magician, they all break laws big or small—nab him, something'll stick. Dig later."
"Efficient."
"...You could see it that way. But..."
Harry fiddled with his mug, head down. The vibe screamed disaster.
Suddenly, the living room TV blared to life with a news anchor's voice.
Harry looked up at the sudden noise and grumbled a laugh.
"Didn't need to turn on the news for that."
Roque eyed Lije with narrowed eyes; she gazed elsewhere, pretending innocence. He sighed lightly.
"You had a junior there. Daniel, right?"
"That guy? He's..."
Harry's face hardened. As Roque started to offer light comfort—
Someone pounded the front door, then bellowed,
"Sarge! I know you're in there! Roque too? Open up!"
Daniel's voice. Roque glanced at Harry, who clutched his forehead.
"Idiot. Told him to rest in hospital..."
Roque opened the door. Daniel stood there, thick cast on left arm, sweating bullets. He flashed a thumbs-up with his right.
"Hey, Roque! Meet again!"
Harry shook his head from inside.
"That bonehead..."
"Isn't that your nickname, Sarge?"
Daniel sauntered in casually; Harry's face twisted like a berserk orc warrior.
"You dumb shit! Shot? Rest in hospital!"
"You shot me, Sarge."
"You little..."
Daniel turned to Roque, waving his cast.
"Dunno how far Sarge got, but he shot this. Said I looked like the perp. I thought he was some gangster gunman. This guy's no joke—real-time hack made me, Sarge, and two tac teams shoot each other thinking perp."
Harry stood, clutching his forehead, sighing deeply. Roque got why they came.
"Need someone implant-free. Pure human, or you're hacked."
"...Yeah. SWAT or mayor's guard should've handled, but no manpower. Victims weren't big shots. Damn it, not a caste society..."
"Suspect location pinned?"
"...Other team's on it. We're here to convince you..."
Harry's flushed face cooled under Roque's sunken gaze. Something off—he'd let them in but hadn't agreed.
Harry hesitated.
"...Help with this? Media doesn't know, but victims over twelve now. Tac team casualties push it higher..."
"Spilling unasked secrets. What if I say no?"
Harry shut up. Daniel, waving hi to Lije, sensed the tension and sidled to a corner.
Harry sighed heavily.
"Can't be helped. Request's just a request—no force. Just... don't leak what I said."
Shadow crossed Harry's face; Daniel looked deflated. Situation worse than thought.
Roque dropped the teasing.
"Burned big cash lately. Need living expenses."
The detectives brightened. Daniel grinned.
"Knew it. Told you, Sarge? He'd help—"
"Double."
"...Huh?"
Roque held up two fingers at their blank stares.
"Double the quoted amount. Then I'll do it."
Harry and Daniel chewed their lips, exchanging glances—bank balances flashing in their eyes.
Harry nodded, fatigue etched deep.
"Double. Got it."
Roque grabbed his coat.
"Let's go."
"...Where? Location not pinned yet."
"Criminal magicians get famous in back alleys. Brokers who deal rumors know 'em best."
Exclamations lit their eyes—they got it. Brokers handled back-alley buzz.
"Other team'll get it soon..."
"Waiting ain't my style."
Roque donned his coat, paused. Lije had snuck the coffee mug, licking it cautiously. She froze under his gaze.
"..."
She set it down slowly, stood casually, and trailed him. Bini uncurled from under the table, sidling up.
Roque eyed Lije briefly, dusted his collar, told the detectives,
"I'll head out. Follow in the car."
Roque, Lije, and Bini exited. Harry blinked at the hosts leaving.
"...Why's the kid?"
"Dunno, but those two stick together."
Harry looked more puzzled.
"...Let's go. You driving with that hand?"
"Took the subway."
Harry sighed at Daniel's innocent reply. He'd drive.