INTRO:

Ri-me was a sixteen-year-old who hated people. He was always unhappy because of how people had hurt him and others. He stayed away from everyone, watching the world with a careful eye. This made him notice small things that others missed. One day, this habit would pull him into a mystery he wanted no part of, a mystery about a missing bullet case.

Beginning:-

Ri-me sat in his chair in class. He was a college student, and this was his last year. He wasn't listening to the teacher, whose voice was just a low hum in the background. He was thinking about how rude and unkind people are. His mind was full of memories of every bad thing he had seen. He watched his classmates, their faces a blur, and felt the same old knot of anger in his stomach. Not only that, but he believed the world had no kindness, and he felt alone in seeing it. This quiet anger was always with him. It was the only thing he could count on.

He whispered to himself. He had only one friend, his childhood friend Kenji, who lived in another city. They didn't see each other, but they did talk at least once a month. Even with those calls, Ri-me still felt the heavy weight of being alone.

He hated people's ideology, he says to himself"how dumb they are, how disrespectful, speaking loud for no reason, accusing people who are innocent, scolding on one mistake?them, and they find fun in it?they don't even care do they?, they hate me because I'm a boy and of how I look?!,"his anger and hatred for humanity itself even if he was one of them, the boy knew of the harsh world his hatred climbing every second for humanity.

The bell rang, a loud, jarring sound that pulled Ri-me from his dark thoughts. He quickly packed his bag and walked out into the busy hall. He kept his head down, watching the other students laugh and talk as if they didn't have a care in the world. He just kept walking, a silent ghost moving through the crowd.

On his way home, with the sun low in the sky, he was halfway to his house when three guys with baseball bats stepped out from an alley and blocked his path.

Ri-me didn't waste a second. He turned and ran. He didn't look back, didn't scream, just ran. The three guys were surprised for a moment, then they roared with laughter and took off after him. The heavy thud of their shoes and the loud scrapes of their bats hitting the pavement followed him like a storm.

"Go on, run!" one of them yelled. "You can't get away!"

Ri-me's lungs burned, but his legs kept going. He knew the streets of his town better than they did. He turned left down a narrow alley, hoping to lose them in the maze of buildings. The laughter and the footsteps grew louder behind him as they closed the distance. The hatred he felt inside gave him strength, a cold fire that pushed him to go faster. He turned another corner and saw an open gate to an old, dark backyard. It was a risk, but it was his only chance. He didn't slow down, diving straight through the gate just as one of the bats hit the wall beside him with a loud crack.

He ran through the open gate, his feet crunching on dry weeds and old broken glass. The yard was a mess of junk and overgrown grass. He saw a dark, open doorway and didn't hesitate, running straight for it. The three guys, yelling curses, were right behind him.

Ri-me dove inside the abandoned building. A cloud of dust rose up around him, and the air turned cold and stale. He could hear their footsteps getting closer, their voices echoing in the empty halls. He didn't stop to think; he just kept running, his eyes getting used to the dark. He found a broken staircase and went up, taking the steps two at a time. The wood groaned under his feet.

Below him, he heard the three guys enter. "He went in here!" one of them shouted. Ri-me quickly ducked into a small, dark room and hid behind an old, broken dresser. He held his breath, listening to their angry voices and heavy footsteps as they began to search the building. The hunt had just begun.

Ri-me ran blindly through the dark halls, his breath ragged. He slammed into a wall, scraping his arm hard against the rough plaster. He didn't slow down, just turned and kept running, his body aching from the bumps and bruises. The angry voices of the three guys echoed closer behind him, their footsteps thudding on the floors. He burst through a doorway, hoping to find a place to hide.

Instead, he stumbled into a large, empty room. Dust filled the air, but in the center of the room, on a broken table, was a small, wooden chest. It was old and covered in rust, but it glowed with a soft, blue light that seemed to come from inside it. The light was weak, but it was the only light in the whole building. Ri-me stopped, his chest heaving, his eyes fixed on the chest. He could still hear the boys calling his name, their voices just a few rooms away.

The angry shouts of the three guys came closer, their heavy footsteps shaking the old floor above and below him. They were searching every room, kicking doors open and yelling his name. Ri-me stayed still, pure hatred in his eyes. He heard them go up the stairs, then back down. He heard them stomp past his room, just on the other side of the wall.

Then, the sounds of their angry voices began to fade. They went down the main staircase and out the front door, yelling for him. "He must have gone back outside!" one of them shouted. Ri-me waited, listening for their voices to grow distant, until the old building was silent again.

The silence was a cold blanket. Ri-me slowly stood up, every muscle in his body stiff. He turned and walked across the dusty room, his eyes on the small chest. The blue light it gave off was soft but clear. It wasn't like a light from a bulb or a phone; it seemed to come from inside the wood itself. He knelt down in front of it and reached out a hand. The air around the chest felt cold, even colder than the rest of the room. He felt a strange pull, a silent hum, as he got closer to the strange object.

Ri-me slowly reached out and put his hand on the chest. The old wood was cold, but the light it gave off felt warm to his fingers. With a soft click, the lid lifted without a sound. He opened it all the way.

Inside, sitting alone on a bed of dark velvet, was a book. The soft blue light that filled the room was coming from the book itself, a light that shone through its pages. The book was made of red-brown leather, old and worn. He carefully picked it up. There was no writing on the front, only a title on its spine that read, "Dreaming Child."

End of Chapter One

Ri-me held the book, the soft blue light coming from its pages. He opened the cover slowly. The first page was white, with only two lines of text written in clear, dark ink. The first line said:

Ability: Point at something and say bang.

Ri-me read the words, a silent frown on his face. He whispered to himself, "Is this some kind of kid's notebook?" He couldn't believe what he was reading. Below the first line, a second line of text appeared as he looked at it:

Snap your fingers to make the notebook disappear and appear.

Ri-me stared at the words, a deep frown on his face. He didn't believe it for a second. It was just a stupid trick. With a dry, humorless look, he snapped the fingers of his free hand. The sound was sharp and loud in the silent room.

In that same moment, the book vanished from his other hand as if it had never been there. The soft blue light was gone, and the room was plunged back into darkness. Ri-me's eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped open. He stared at his empty hands, then around the dark room, his heart pounding in his chest. He was no longer just angry or full of hate,not only that, but he was completely shocked.

The shock faded, and Ri-me's mind went to one simple thought: he had to get home. He had completely forgotten about the three guys who were chasing him. The anger and the fear he had felt before came back, cold and sharp. He moved through the dark halls, his quiet hatred now mixed with the need to be careful.

He went down to the first floor, making his way through the junk and dust. He didn't hear a sound from the guys. He found a broken window and climbed through it, stepping back out into the messy yard. The air was cool now that the sun was going down. The sounds of the city were far away. He was not alone.

The three guys were standing in the yard, looking angry. When they saw Ri-me climb out the window, their faces twisted into mean smiles. They started to walk toward him slowly, like predators with no need to rush.

"There you are," the leader said, his voice cold and hard. "You thought you could get away?"

Ri-me felt a cold fear take over his body. His legs felt weak, and he stumbled backward. His feet slid on some loose rocks, and he fell hard. He quickly scooted backward on the ground until his back hit the cold, rough wall of the building.

The three guys stopped in front of him, their bats held ready. Ri-me was trapped, his body shaking with a fear he couldn't hide.

Ri-me was shaking, his body pressed against the cold wall. The three guys stood over him, their faces dark and full of anger. He looked at the bats in their hands and saw no escape. He was done.

Then, a thought came to him, clear and sharp. The weird notebook. The words he had read. It was a stupid, foolish thought, but it was his only hope.

His right hand, shaking badly, rose from the ground. He raised his first two fingers like a gun and pointed them at the three guys. They stopped their angry staring and burst into loud, cruel laughter.

"Look at this freak," one of them sneered. "Thinks he's in a movie. You think that's going to stop us, you ugly a** ho**?"

The leader, a cruel smile on his face, raised his bat high, ready to swing. Ri-me saw the bat coming and knew what was next. He flinched, squeezed his eyes shut with all his strength, and with a raw cry of pure fear and desperation, shouted, "Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The moment the last "Bang!" ripped from Ri-me’s throat, a powerful, invisible force slammed into the three guys in turns.

Their cruel laughter turned into surprised shouts as they were all thrown backward. The heavy bats flew from their hands, hitting the ground with loud clangs and rolling away in the dirt.

Ri-me squeezed his eyes shut, his hands covering his face in a raw cry of pure fear and desperation. He was ready for the pain. But instead, he heard the heavy thud of bodies falling, followed by the sound of bats clattering on the hard ground.

Then there was silence—a terrible, final silence.

He slowly opened his eyes, his heart beating fast and hard. He took his hands from his face and looked.

The three guys were not moving. They lay on the ground, still and broken. On each of their bodies, he saw a dark, round hole, like a bullet had passed through them. But there were no bullets. Ri-me’s eyes grew wide with a fear he had never felt before. He slowly stood up, his legs shaking. He stared at the corpses, frozen in a mix of shock and horror.

The story had truly begun now. It wasn't just a boy's anger or a strange notebook. It was a cold case of murder, a puzzle for the city to solve, and a dark secret for a boy to carry. The missing bullet casing was not just a symbol anymore; it was the first clue in a mystery that had no name and no simple answers,no clues.

Ri-me stood frozen in the silent yard, his eyes wide with a fear he had never felt before. The rage and hatred he had felt moments ago were gone, replaced by a cold, numbing horror.

He had killed them with a word. The truth of what he had done slammed into him like a physical blow. He slowly backed away from the bodies, his legs shaking so badly he could barely stand.

A sudden, terrible silence fell over the yard, snapping him out of his trance. Panic took over. He spun around and ran, not with purpose, but with the wild, blind fear.

He ran out of the abandoned building's gate and onto the dark streets. The city lights grew thin, and his heart pounded in his ears, his mind replaying the thud of the bodies hitting the ground.

He kept running, his lungs burning and his legs aching. He was running from the dead, from the power inside him, and from the terrible new secret he had just made his own. He was getting closer to his home near the city's end, but the fear was running with him.

A man with tired eyes, Detective Z, stood on the roof of a low building, drinking from a cup of coffee. He was watching the quiet streets below. He saw a boy running hard, his head down, moving with a kind of wild panic.

"What's his problem?" Z said to himself,Taking another drink. "Is he late or what?" He didn't think much of it and sat back down in his chair, watching the sun begin to set over the city.

Meanwhile, Ri-me kept running until he reached his house at the city's end. His lungs burned, and his legs ached, but the fear of what he had done pushed him forward.

He fumbled with the keys, finally finding the right one, and put it in the lock of his front gate. He opened the gate, went inside, and then closed it slowly and quietly behind him.

He went to the front door, unlocked it, and quickly entered his dark, silent home. He closed the door behind him and locked it tight.

Ri-me closed and locked the door behind him. The dark house was silent and cold. He was still breathing hard, his body shaking. He turned around to face the living room and saw his father sitting in his chair.

His father looked at him, his face full of worry. "What took you so long again, son?" he asked. "Was it work again, or something else? Because you look panicked."

Ri-me took a deep breath, slowly

forcing himself to seem calm. He looked his father in the eyes, a lie coming to his lips. "Nothing else, dad," Ri-me said, his voice a little shaky. "Just my work was very much today, and that's why I was panicking because I was getting late for home. The sun started to set."

His father's worried eyes looked him over, seeing past the forced calm. He saw the scrapes on Ri-me’s hands and the dark bruises on his arm. His father gently took Ri-me’s arm in his hands, his face full of new worry.

"What are these for, son?" he asked, his voice low. "How did you get so hurt?"

Ri-me quickly pulled his arm back, a sudden fear in his eyes.

"Nothing, Dad," Ri-me said, his voice quiet. "While I was running, I tripped hard and fell. I took a lot of damage on the cement."

His father looked at his son's pale face and believed the lie easily. He let Ri-me go, his worry still clear on his face. Ri-me quickly went upstairs to his room.

As he changed his clothes, his mind was a messy blur of fear and shock. He took off the clothes from the outside world and put on his home clothes.

He then sat on his chair and, with a heavy mind, fell into a short, deep sleep for one or two hours. He woke up with a start, still feeling tired and sick.

He went to the washroom to wash his face with cold water, looking at his pale face in the mirror. He then went downstairs to eat.

He went into the kitchen and found his father had already cooked food for him. The warm smell of it helped him feel a little better.

He sat down at the table and lifted a plate that was covering the food. He put that plate on top of another one and looked at the fried rice his father had made. He picked up his chopsticks and began to eat.

Ri-me ate his fried rice, but he didn't taste it. His mind was replaying the scene in the abandoned yard over and over.

He saw the bullies' faces, their shouts of fear, and the final, heavy thud of their bodies hitting the ground. The cold shock he had felt began to fade.

A new feeling, strange and dark, took its place.

Suddenly, an idea came to him. A chilling thought that made him feel a cold, quiet happiness. He had not just gotten lucky. He had been given a power.

A real power. He thought back to all the things he had hated: the rude people, their stupid beliefs, and their bad behavior.

He thought about a man who yelled at the innocent boy, the girls who laughed at others, and the way the world was so unfair,how he was treated in school and in public,how they didn't care,. He had been given a way to fix it all, a way to take his own kind of justice.

The thought was a terrible comfort, and it made him want to finish his food quickly.

As soon as Ri-me finished his meal, he went upstairs. The dark, chilling idea of justice was a fire in his mind.

He opened his books and finished all his work in just 15 minutes, his mind clear and sharp for the first time in a long time.

When he was done, he turned off his light and laid down on his bed. He didn't just lay there to sleep, but to wait for the world to turn. He was no longer just a boy who hated the world. He had a plan.