Galgot bar, Deling City.

"And when the culprit tried to get away, I immediately stopped him with a single bullet, just two inches from his temple!"

The crowd gasps and cheers, shouting to the bartender to order another round of beer.

Quistis sits at the other end of the table, fed up with Irvine's flashy retelling of their recent capture of a murderer just a few hours ago. While she was busy with paperwork, Irvine had already gathered the entire DCPD at the bar with him. Tomorrow, she wouldn't be surprised if Irvine's hidden face behind his signature cowboy hat will make it into the first page of Deli News. Why that peculiar posture? "Mystery," he explained, would draw more contracts to their relatively young private investigation office, which they co-founded two years ago.

For the second time, Quistis had been fired from Balamb Garden, though no one would dare use that word with her. She didn't want to sugarcoat the reality either. Demoted from her instructor position after her questionable move to select Seifer one of the Dollet mission's squad leaders, she had been naive to think that every mistake would be forgiven after Ultimecia's defeat, upon which her instructor license was automatically reinstated.

When exactly did things go South again? She would never know. But if she can have a guess... To renew their investment in the Garden, Cid had to beg Master Norg backward and over right after the Shumi returned from his evolution cocoon. No one knew what additional conditions Cid had to accept to earn Norg's signature. She didn't either. But the following month, a termination notice arrived at her desk.

At first, she thought it was a bad joke.

Two hundred words and five sentences, including the letter header, were all Garden had to say after taking away two decades of her dedication. Upon receiving the letter, she quickly packed her personal belongings in a humble backpack, avoiding any annoying Trepie groupies on her way out. She felt like a mess for a few months, even started drinking for the first time, but now she is doing much better. Mostly.

"You have my vote for the Best Sleuth title this year—mark my words!" An officer with a belly so round one can hardly imagine him in a chase leans on Irvine's shoulder, and the cowboy nods in gratitude before smiling awkwardly at Quistis across the table.

"Thank you for considering our agency..."

"It's you—the hero. Everyone knows that!" another officer says, clinking his beer against Irvine's. "Thinking a woman could run after a thief in her high heels. That'd be a funny movie! Right? Right? Do you agree?"

"Maybe..." Irvine awkwardly nods an inch.

That's it. Quistis grabs her dark brown trench coat and walks out of the bar without saying goodbye to the table. Not that anyone would remember her name anyway.

Unlike her friend, Quistis apparently has a hard time adjusting to Deling City. To be honest, it is no strange place to Irvine.

After the orphanage gang disbanded when they were around seven or eight, Irvine spent his life in Deling City before moving to Galbadia Garden. The Galbadian army worships guns, and Irvine has never used GFs—he simply enhances his gun and bullets with crystal dust to retain magic. Galbadian snipers distinguish themselves by their skills, and Irvine has a distinct advantage with his 20/10 vision. Unbeknownst to many, his muscle memory is also impeccable. Even at the orphanage, no one could beat him at throwing shoes to hit cans. The phrase "man with a machine gun" has become a symbol within the Galbadian army, contributing to the low percentage of female officers and reinforcing stereotypes. This, combined with the fear of the Sorceress, led the two children of fate to agree upon hiding Quistis's profile when they decided to establish the investigation agency.

"Q, just hang out for an hour!" Irvine chases after her, grabbing her arm.

"An hour? It's been more than that," she frowns.

"Did they offend you?"

"No."

"Then stay. We need to make friends with these people to get good cases. Also, you gotta chill..."

"I'd rather come back to the office."

"For what?"

"What if there's a new case ringing at our empty desk?" Quistis lies. All she wants to do now is go home and sleep her pathetic life away.

"A case at 8 PM on a Friday night? Come on..."

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Both of their pagers ring.

"Squall?" Irvine frowns.

"Aha!"

The ex-Sorceress Knight exclaims as he discovers a gun hidden under a bed. But before he can touch the murder weapon, a strong mini cyclone tosses it up in the air before deposits it into his assistant's ziplock bag.

"COLLECT!"

Seifer facepalms, unable to keep track of how many times Fujin has acted this way with minimal communication.

"Why, Fu? Why?"

"EVIDENCE!"

"That's the bastard's gun! We can kick his ass now!"

"FINGERPRINT! CONTAMINATION!"

"Another procedure? For what?"

"YOU!"

Okay, Seifer starts to follow. Fujin seems determined to avoid Seifer's fingerprints messing up the murder weapon's evidence again, which is a valid concern given that the gun's owner might claim someone else used it to commit the murder. Although the chance of Detective Seifer being accused of this crime is low, his sorceress's lapdog track record would attract media attention. Being stranded in Fisherman Horizon, Seifer cannot risk becoming a murder suspect and being kicked out of the last place on Earth that allows him to stay.

"Fine. But next time, can you please...?"

Beep! Beep! Beep!

"Huh, Messenger girl?"

"MISSING!"