Moses Office

“You idiot...”, A young woman murmured, grinding her teeth.  Ezra had done it again.  She had told her numerous times not to ask sensitive questions to the subjects of an investigation.  The blond headed Ezra then whispered to the smaller woman.

“Uwaaaaa… Detective! Detective! What do we do?!”

The detective returned Ezra’s concern with a sharp jab of her elbow, quickly giving a bow to annoyed man overlooking the two.  “Hahaha, sorry chef.  My niece isn’t very streetwise yet, you see!”,  The short woman said, pinching the cheek of her taller assistant, “Oh, you lovely young sprout~ What do you mean with ‘detective’?  Are you seeing stuff again? Poor little thing…”

“Hmph, so you were just a couple of nutjobs.  If you disrupt my business with bollocks again, I’m gonna call security!”  The master chef yelled; although this restaurant was too small and shabby for such luxurious titles.

“Yes~ I’ll teach my little gal here to behave~!”  The detective humed, giving a bow to the chef as he took a disgruntled leave.  Once in the clear, the woman simply gave a sharp glance at nearly tearing Ezra.

“...Are you insane?  Did you really have to say out loud, ‘Wow~ The food here is just as disgusting as the sanitation!  Who taught you to cook?’ in a small restaurant that’s not seeing too many guests?”

“But it really did taste horrible…”  Ezra, whines.

“You think we’re here to enjoy the food?  You’re supposed to carefully look around for clues.  Just cram the food in your mouth before the chef finds us suspicious.”  The detective chastises.

“This food has got to be the cause of the disappearance. I bet the revolting taste drove them crazy and made them wander off.”

“I’m cutting your salary.”

“Wha?!”

“By 25%.”

“Uwahh, detective! Please!”

The two find themselves back at the detective’s office, a sign above displaying ‘Moses’ Office’.  The detective took a pipe out of her inner coat pocket.  The case may be stuck for the moment, but it should end well somehow.  With such optimism, she started smoking.

Moses is a Fixer from District 14, a decently experienced Grade 5 currently working for Seven, the association specializing in intelligence and investigation operations.  She solves mysteries for a living, though most of these “unsolved” cases are about the Distortion anyway.  The City still seems to be mostly clueless about the Distortion, and she simply jumped into this budding niche earlier than others thanks to her cursed talent: seeing visions of distortions in her dreams.

“So, what did the distortion look like to you, detective?”  Ezra asks, looking over towards the detective.

“The lower half of their body was that of a snake.  And mouths were attached on its tail-s.  It had about seven tails in total if I remember correctly.”  Moses replies back, taking another puff of her pipe.

“Eugh~ What about their upper body?  Was it human?”  Ezra asked, giving a slight squirm at the description.

“Yep.  I could see a human in a filthy chef’s uniform.”

“So, based off your last vision, does that mean the Distortion has progressed by about half?  Maybe it’ll manifest in a week or so…”

“It could very well happen tonight, judging from the circumstances.  The mouth on one of the tails was salivating and twitching quite intensely.”

“Anyways, we’re dealing with a reptilian, right?  Let’s see…  A Stigma Workshop product could work!”  Ezra happily says as she walks back towards the office’s armory.

To that Moses gave a sigh, “You always pick expensive gadgets.”

The Zwei Association gave the Moses’ Office a request.  People have been disappearing at night inside a certain hotel in the area the association has been safeguarding.  Recording was forbidden in the Backstreets of District 14, so there’s no video footage available.  The hotel only has two entrances: the main gate, and the backdoor through the kitchen.  None of the missing guests were seen leaving through the main gate.  The hotel wasn’t assaulted by a Syndicate either, which was obvious considering that the Zwei were in charge of that area.

“Detective, detective.  Maybe something’s really up with the kitchen?”  Ezra pipes up.

“Its chef was the most distorted person around, so it’s plausible.”

The sun sets and night falls. The two infiltrated the hotel restaurant. The F Guild ‘Fairy’ Moses spent a fortune on enters the keyhole and opens the door for the pair.  Sometimes to Moses, Singularities feel much more like monsters than the half-baked creatures born from the Distortion.

“Wow~ Are they having a party or something?” Ezra exclaims in a half whisper.

Under a red light, skinless hunks of flesh were sitting around a table, eating something. The only dish on the table was something that looked like a large leather sack. Each figure would grab something from the sack and begin to devour it. The putrid smell stings my nose. The detective’s mind falters for a moment.

“Turn around! Do not look at the thing they’re eating. Don’t breathe!” Moses says, holding her sleeve to her face to block the incoming stench.

“This is driving me mad, detective… But it looks so cozy in there. It looks like a bedroll…”  Ezra mutters.

“You’ll be eaten and turned to manure once you get in that ‘bedroll’!” Moses whispers.

Ezra was completely entranced, only being woken from the daze after Moses gave a sharp, quiet jab to her assistant.

“Gueh.”

Pulling out a handkerchief with her free hand, the detective hands it over to the nearly stumbling Ezra.  “Keep it tight.  We’re heading to the kitchen now.”

Leaving behind the feast, the two crawled toward the kitchen. A long line of people waited in front of it, recognizable as the people reported to be missing. They enter the kitchen one by one, a short pause before a human-shaped flesh hunk walked out, each one carrying a leather sack. They bring it to their table and eat from it.

“The food that bewitches people, huh…”  Moses ponders.

“What could they be eating, detective?”

Moving up towards the location of the kitchen, Moses gave a look towards Ezra, “It’s time to find out. Get ready, assistant.”

Ezra took a Stigma Workshop sword out of her bag as Moses pulled out her smoking pipe. The door leading to the kitchen is wide open and people lining up for their sack pay no attention to the two as they slowly proceed, the waiting crowd simply mumbling to themselves.

“...We’re going in.”, Moses said.

Sounds of kitchenware at work rang out.  The chef is busy cooking something, holding multiple cooking utensils with the hands that are on their tails. What could they be cooking? What are they feeding those people with…

“Detective. People are bowing to the chef, to show their heads… The chef is splitting them open, and… taking something out? It doesn’t look like a brain…”, Ezra exclaims, eyes locked to the sight.

Moses gave another careful glance at the scene, giving out her opinion on the matter at hand, “They aren’t extracting the brain itself. They’re pulling something out of it... Could it be… thoughts…?”

“How is that possible?”, Ezra asks the detective.

“That’s what the Distortion is all about. Unseeable things are materialized.”, Moses says, slowly entering the kitchen.

“That means they’re giving away their thoughts to the chef, so the chef can cook them… And…” Ezra says, the implications coming to her.

Moses took a few more steps into the kitchen, eyes locking with the chef who has now noticed the pair before replying, “The chef also peels their skin to use as the sack. That’s pretty wicked.”

“Hey, you’re the insane bunch I saw earlier today! If you wanna eat, then line up! The taste’s gonna be nothing like the stuff you ate before!”, the now monstrous chef says, gesturing towards the pair.

“What are you feeding these people?”, Moses ask the chef, not budging at the beckoning.

The chef puts down his kitchenware, “I’m giving ‘em what they want. I cook thoughts. People these days don’t even know what they’re thinking, so they need someone else to cook those thoughts up and feed ‘em.”

“You’ve already killed people…” Moses says, gritting her teeth.

Ezra pipes up, heedless of the mood, “A case of the Distortion that is capable of murder would be… according to the standards our Office set up, um... A Risk-Level 3 Distortion.”

The chef just gives a laugh, “Kill? They aren’t dead. They’re having a feast, don’t you see? Ordinary food isn’t enough to make people happy anymore. You gotta know who you are and what kinda world you’re living in to truly savor the flavor.”

“This is almost like a cheap urban myth. You’ve gone too far.”, Moses says as the guttural mutters begin to grow from outside the kitchen.

The first word of warning of these new arrivals came from Ezra, “Wahh, detective! The fleshy things in the restaurant all came in here!!”

The cook began to approach the detective, “You just haven’t tried it yet… I’ll show you how your thoughts taste…”

It seems like the time for action is now, with a brief statement Moses lets out, “Ezra, take them down.”

The Stigma Workshop sword in Ezra's hand emits an orange glow. The wire on its blade heats up. Each time Ezra swings the sword, one of the hunks of flesh falls to the floor. The heated wire leaves beautiful symbols through the sections it slices, a trademark feature of Stigma Workshop’s products. The smell of burnt meat soon fills the kitchen.

A sentient case of the Distortion that willingly harms others is ultimately subjected to termination. Moses sometimes encounter Distortions that she can’t take down on our own, but most of them can still be dealt with in some manner. This kind is especially simple.

“Have you tried your own cooking, then?”

Self-contradiction. Distortions that damage others while claiming to care for them are bound to face irony.

“……”

Moses smirks, knowing she is on the right track, “So you’re feeding others with a dish you haven’t even tried yourself? What makes you so confident in its taste, hm?”

“...My cooking has to be tasty! All the customers looked sad and sulky even when I served them with the most delicious food before. It’s because they didn’t think for themselves!“, the chef retorts, anger growing in his voice.

“You can tell if the food is tasty just from a person’s face? Someone who doesn’t try their own cooking isn’t a real chef.”, Moses pressures.

The chef, now fuming with anger finally relents, “Nnnnrg… Fine! I’ll eat it! I’ll eat my own food!”

“There we go~ That’s the spirit of a true chef.”, Moses says, taking a puff of her pipe.

Taking a clever from the counter into his tail-hand, the chef proceeds to split open their own head.  Another tail reaches forward, pulling out some sort of glowy string from their brain.  As soon as the chef was done they collapsed onto the floor.  Just like that, the chef passed away before they could taste their own thoughts.

“Detective! I took care of them all!”  Ezra cheerfully reports; a pile of singed bodies left behind.

“I’m done with my share, too.”, Moses replies.

Ezra took a quick peek, looking over towards the slowly disappearing distortion body.  “Should we contact the Zwei Association now?”

A sigh, “Yeah, just write up a short report. They won’t believe all this fuss about cooking thoughts anyways. I’ll go get some sleep first.”

“Got it~”

“Good morning, detective Moses! You’re a bit later than usual today, huh?”, Ezra hums, looking over towards the older woman just now entering the office.

Closing the door behind her, Moses replies, “Uh, yeah, the line at HamHam-PanPan was long today. Guess everyone wants to check it out since it’s the first to open in the north of the City.”

“Oh… HamHam-PanPan… Did you get some for me too?”, Ezra asks looking up from her seat.

A bag is thrown across the room, Ezra quickly snatching it out of the air, “Yeah, got one for you just in case. You liked mustard, right?”

“Heheh, mustard flavor’s great! Ah, the Zwei sent us the reward just now.”, Ezra says, looking back towards the green terminal at the desk.

“That quick? It only took them a day, I bet they scamped the paperwork.”, Moses ponders.

Ezra's fingers begin to type away at the computer, “Anyway, to sum up this case, it was about an unappreciated cook who wanted to bring joy to the people in their own, twisted way!”

“It was a crude story. We’ve had to deal with the Distortion on our own a lot more often these days, now that I think about it.”, Moses replies.

Stopping for a minute, Ezra peeks up from behind the computer, looking back to the detective, “Why are the Wings and the other Associations so passive about it? Monsters are actually appearing!”

A sigh, “Because none of them were noteworthy enough to even be an Urban Plague, well, ‘The Pianist’ being the sole exception.”

“Still, shouldn’t someone do something about this?! It’s like a ticking time bomb!”. Ezra pouts.

“I bet a lot more people die to Syndicates than to the Distortion.”, Moses retorts.

Ezra pauses, at a standstill oh how to reply… Wait a minute, about that thing the detective said back at the restaurant… “By the way, you’re not actually gonna cut my salary, are you? That stupid chef’s food really was the cause!”

Moses snorts, whispering under her breath, “Psh, try using that good memory for something better.”

“I can hear you!”