Chapter One: Unforeseen Ripples

The routine monotony of an officer's life is an unsung ballad of paper and protocol, with each day heralding a symphony of responsibilities. For Edwin, it was a dance with the mundane, a façade he'd grown accustomed to. But this day, amidst the usual sea of letters, one message emerged, its words an unexpected whirlpool pulling Edwin into its depths.

The letter:

26th

December, 20XX.

The

Chief Head,

Syldavian Oil Agency,

Thaulds District, DA.

Subject: Regarding missing cooking gas

Dear Sir/Madam,

I write to bring to your notice about cooking oil going missing from cylinders as soon as they are brought home by the customers.

The people of our village have noticed recently that as soon as the gas cylinders are delivered to them or bought by them, all the liquefied gas from it disappears the next morning leaving only the empty container behind.

From all the evidences obtained as of now, the police in our area have suspected a mass theft to be the case, and not leakage of the liquid. From all the incidents, one thing can be made clear that the thieves know about the location of the houses which take in the product for their cooking, hence they can be a person from within. The police could not figure out the culprit yet, and the victims are being affected without interruption.

These incidents are causing a lot of panic and rumours in the whole village. I request you to look into this matter and eliminate the problem as soon as possible.

I look forward to your response.

Thanking you,

Yours sincerely,

Ray

The letter, penned by a certain Ray from Rheinad Village, detailed a peculiar gas theft plaguing the village. It wasn't merely a plea; it was a complaint veiled in the formalities of a plea letter. The urgency in Ray's words echoed through the pages, resonating with an undercurrent of distress.

Lost in the labyrinth of thoughts that Ray's letter had evoked, Edwin was oblivious to the persistent knocks on his door. His assistant's voice finally cut through the fog of his reverie, drawing Edwin back to reality.

"Sir, may I come in?!" His assistant's voice rang out with an urgency matched only by the situation brewing outside Edwin's awareness.

"Ah… yes, please," Edwin replied absentmindedly, his mind still tangled in Ray's words.

The assistant, ever dutiful, inquired about the remaining letters. "Sir, have you finished reading all the letters

delivered to you?"

"Yes, I have," Edwin confirmed, gesturing toward the letters—except for the one that had ensnared his attention.

As the assistant gathered the remaining letters, he teased Edwin about a bunch of love letters, unaware of the weight behind the single letter that held Edwin captive.

Shooing away his assistant, Edwin attempted to respond to Ray's letter. However, the words eluded him, weaving a complex web of indecision and uncertainty.

Later that evening, as Edwin attempted to pen a reply, another round of knocks on the door interrupted his solitary contemplation. Wearily, he granted permission for his assistant to enter.

"Work time's over, dude! Let’s have a drink out, shall we?" His assistant's boisterous voice disrupted Edwin's solitary

focus.

"No, thanks," Edwin declined, engrossed in the turmoil of his thoughts.

“It’s Friday, dude. What are you, a workaholic?”

“Nah, I’ve got some extra work today. Count me out.”

“No way, come on! Don’t be such a drag.” He said pulling Edwin’s arm, trying to make him get up from his seat.

“Hey hey hey, stop! I’m your boss.”

“Work time is over~ I’m no longer your damn assistant.”

The insistence continued until Edwin relented, succumbing to his assistant's persuasion. With a sense of resignation, he accompanied his friend, indulging in the camaraderie amidst the humdrum of everyday life. And yeah, the he was sitting with his foolish friend who was now drunk.

“Hey, tellll meh… wat’sh goin onn~~”

“What?” Edwin said, still sober.

“Youh’rre ouut of yhourself todayyy~~ huh…??”

“Sigh… This isn’t something I can share, if I do, I’ll probably get fired. Yeah, but still, I could tell him what was in my mind since he’ll anyways forget it tomorrow.” Edwin thought to himself.

As the night wore on, amidst the intoxicating haze, Edwin decided to share what was weighing heavily on his soul. It was the first time ever that he had spilled out his deepest secret that was buried in the deepest corner of his mind.

Returning home, Edwin’s mind raced with uncertainties. He was sure that some unfortune was to befall him. Sure enough, he thought of living each moment of his life very carefully then on.

The person who could confuse him sure is special.

In the quiet of his home, he grappled with a newfound introspection, an awareness of the shift caused by his uncharacteristic revelation. The gravity of confiding in someone about his deepest fears and secrets loomed large. He knew he was doing careless things very carefully but today he actually felt it.

His stomach filled with all that wine didn’t want any dinner. And neither did his brain filled with all that tension want any sleep. Edwin took up pen and paper, unleashing a torrent of thoughts and emotions that had long been suppressed. The ink flowed freely, the words pouring forth like a dam breaking, unexpected from a man accustomed to silence.

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