Rex felt like crying.
"..."
John and Jean exchanged glances.
Jean's hand instinctively moved to her holstered revolver as she stepped forward, eyes locked on Rex.
'They're definitely police. That uniform… the gun on her right hip—it all fits,' Rex thought.
'Looks like I've gotten myself into a funny little misunderstanding…' He quickly analyzed the situation, weighing his options.
Without turning his head, he calmly scanned everyone in the room—outwardly composed, but inwardly on high alert.
'The attacker could still be in the hospital… hell, they might even be in this very room.'
'But for now, let's do something entertaining before the truth comes out.'
Rex knew the truth would surface eventually, but until then, he figured he might as well have a little fun.
As Jean stepped closer, Rex began to act. His hands trembled slightly, clutching the bedsheet. His eyes widened with fear.
"Wha-What?"he stammered, voice shaking.
The silence stretched.
Jean said nothing. Her eyes remained cold and calculating.
'She's building suspense… Come on, say something already.'Still, Rex maintained his role flawlessly.
In the past, he'd tried almost every career path—acting included.After being kicked out of the orphanage at seventeen with only a small allowance, Rex drifted from job to job. Fired within a year—every time.Only one job had lasted longer: his miserable stint at that black company.
'Hehe, time to put my acting skills to good use!'
"You'll only answer. Don't try anything funny," Jean warned coldly.
Her long black hair swayed over her shoulder as she tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she read Rex's face like a hawk.
"Jean, stop. He's already been through a lot—he could be the victim here," John said gently.
He stepped forward, took the chair by Rex's bedside, and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"There, there. No one's going to hurt you. We're here to help. Can you tell us what happened?"
'Good cop and bad cop? Seriously?' Rex mused. 'Alright, I'll play along.'
'And I've already got the Grim Reaper breathing down my neck. How could you possibly scare me now?'
'Hehe…'
He clutched John's hand tightly, eyes wide in fear. His pupils unfocused, brow deeply furrowed.
"I-I'm Ray Mortal! Something tried to kill me! Please—you have to help me! It'll come back… I know it will!"
His voice cracked, panic pouring out like a flood.
"We just saw you smiling a second ago," Jean snapped. Her instincts fired. 'He's faking… but why now?'
"I-I thought it was just a nightmare… b-but now I remember! I remember everything!"
His voice trembled, and then like a dam breaking, tears streamed from his eyes. He cried loudly—like a child.
Jean rolled her eyes and covered her ears, unconvinced.
The others, who hadn't seen Rex's earlier expression, looked confused.
Jean, however, remained skeptical.
'He's good. Too good. I'd be convinced too… if I hadn't seen that grin.'
But Rex wasn't just playing for sympathy.
'I don't care if they believe me or not… sometimes my mind just feels like a child's.'
"Don't cry, don't cry. No one's going to hurt you," John said kindly, handing Rex his handkerchief. "Here. Take this."
Rex sniffled, took the napkin—and then loudly blew his nose into it.Without hesitation, he folded it neatly and tucked it into John's shirt pocket.
"…"
John blinked. A vein bulged on his forehead.
'Why did I try to be the nice guy? Should've let Jean handle it from the start…'
Suddenly, a doctor barged in holding a tablet.
"He's telling the truth, officers. I just got the DNA report—it matches the blood found in the bathroom. No other samples were found at the scene. He's a patient here. Ray Mortal. He was admitted three months ago and was attacked today at exactly 12 PM. A suspicious figure followed him into the restroom—it was caught on camera."
The doctor adjusted his glasses and scanned the group in the room. He handed the tablet to the lead doctor and smiled reassuringly at Rex.
"It's really true! But what about his face?" the lead doctor asked, skimming through the report and replaying the footage. John stood to watch.
"The hospital photo was taken after he was admitted," the bespectacled doctor explained.
Jean immediately moved in.
"Give me that!" she snapped, snatching the tablet from the lead doctor's hands.
She replayed the footage: Rex walking down the hallway, then—seconds later—a shadow appearing behind him, seemingly out of nowhere.
'There has to be something!, my gut have never been wrong!'
Still unconvinced, she scanned the report again.
"Where are his personal details? These are only medical records," Jean said sharply, turning to the doctor with glasses.
He adjusted his frames again.
"He has a level 5 identity."
Everyone went still.
In this world, a person's societal standing was determined by their identity level.The higher the level, the greater their privileges. People with level 5 identity were classified as "untouchables"—even local police couldn't arrest them without high-level authorization from headquarters.
'Level 5s usually live in the upper districts…' Jean's thoughts faltered. Her hands tightened around the tablet.
But her suspicion didn't waver.
'I can verify this back at HQ. And even if he really is level 5, I don't care.'
'People like him are often arrogant. What if he accidentally killed someone—and now someone powerful is helping cover it up? Tempered footage… fake reports… it's possible.'
Many scenarios ran through her mind, but on the surface, she remained composed.
'And he might've been telling the truth from the start,' Jean sighed, her thoughts racing.'But if he really was attacked… this is serious.Someone targeted a Level 5 identity.'
Her eyes narrowed.'I need to inform the Chief—immediately.'
Rex's expression were frozen.
Rex, too, was in shock, but for a completely different reason. After observing everyone's reactions, he had already come to one conclusion—Ray Mortal must be from some big-shot family.
'Level 5… What the hell is a Level 5 identity? What does it even mean?''I can't just ask them outright, can I'