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MidReal Story
The Girl Who Became A Detective In An Era Of Gangsters
Scenario:меня зовут Арлин Смит. мне 17 лет и я дочь известных бизнесменов. мои родители имеют косметический бренд в Англии. я мечтаю стать детективом и давно изучаю физиогномику. я с родителями прилетела в Японию. они хотели открыть там офис косметического бренда. но вечером из новостей я узнала, что лучший в мире детектив был убит загадочным убийцей, который именует себя как "Кира". начав расследование, я узнала, что убийца убивает преступников путём сердечного приступа а детектива он убил для того, чтобы тот не вышел на его след
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Arlin Smith
She is the daughter of a prominent cosmetics family in England. She is curious, determined, and intelligent. Arlin dreams of becoming a detective, studying physiognomy to enhance her skills. During a family trip to Japan, she learns about the mysterious murder of the world's best detective by a man calling himself "Kira." Intrigued by the case, Arlin secretly investigates, uncovering details that suggest the detective was about to expose a powerful figure.
Abe
He is the butler of the Smith family. He is discreet, efficient, and loyal. Abe assists Arlin in her undercover investigation without knowing her true intentions. He provides her with information and lends his credit card to gain access to secure locations. Although he follows protocols by reporting suspicious activity to the authorities, his help significantly aids Arlin in her covert inquiry into the murder of the worldrenowned detective.
Emma Smith
She is Arlin's sister and their parents' daughter from a previous marriage. She is caring, supportive, and levelheaded. Emma helps take care of Arlin while their parents are busy with business affairs. She provides emotional support and advice during Arlin's investigation into the detective’s murder. Her relationship with Arlin is close, creating a sense of family unity amidst chaos.
My name is Arlin Smith.
I am seventeen years old.
My parents are well-known businessmen in England, owning a cosmetics brand that extends to many countries.
I don't want to inherit my parents' business, and I have a dream of becoming a detective.
Currently, I am studying physiognomy, which is the art of analyzing facial features to determine one's personality, temperament, and character traits.
I have been studying physiognomy for quite some time now, and I can determine what kind of person someone is just by looking at his or her face.
This evening, while watching the news on TV with my parents, I was shocked to hear that the world's best detective was murdered by someone who called himself "Kira."
The news reporter said that Kira killed the detective by giving him a heart attack.
Kira is a mysterious killer who kills criminals by inducing them with heart attacks; no one knows how he does it.
He kills criminals who have escaped punishment and are unable to be punished by the law.
Many people are grateful for his actions and consider him a hero.
The police are trying to find Kira, but they have not been successful yet.
After watching the news, I excused myself and went to my room.
While changing my clothes, I thought about Kira and how he kills people by inducing them with heart attacks.
In my room, I tossed and turned in my bed, unable to sleep.
I tried to focus on something else, but Kira was always on my mind.
After a while, I finally fell asleep.
In my dream, I found myself in a gray world with no trees or flowers.
I walked for a while and saw a table in the distance.
As I approached the table, I noticed that it was old and dusty.
On top of the table was a dark blue notebook.
I picked up the notebook and opened it.
The first page had some words written on it: "Writing a name here causes death."
I felt a chill run down my spine as I read the words.
I didn't know what to do next, so I closed the notebook and held it close to my chest.
Suddenly, a tall figure appeared in front of me.
He was dressed in black and had a hood over his head, making it impossible to see his face.
He stared at me for a while before speaking in a low voice. "What are you doing here?" he asked me.
I didn't know how to respond, so I just stood there silently.
The figure took a step closer to me and said, "You shouldn't be here. This is not your place."
I tried to move away from him, but he grabbed my arm and held me in place.
"You need to leave now," he said firmly.
I nodded my head and turned around to walk away.
As I did, I heard him say, "Remember, writing a name here causes death."
I kept walking until I woke up with a start.
It was just a dream, but it felt so real that I couldn't shake off the feeling of fear that lingered inside me.
I woke up startled, the dream still fresh in my mind.
I glanced around my room, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that lingered.
As I looked around, I noticed something on my bed that caught my attention.
It was a dark blue notebook, exactly like the one I saw in my dream.
My heart started racing as I stared at the notebook in disbelief.
How did it end up on my bed?
Was it really there, or was it just a figment of my imagination?
I slowly got out of bed and approached the notebook cautiously.
As I reached out to touch it, I felt a shiver run down my spine.
I quickly grabbed the notebook and stuffed it into my backpack.
I didn't want anyone to see it, not even my parents.
I sat down on the edge of my bed, trying to calm myself down.
After a few minutes, I decided to check if the notebook was real or just a part of my dream.
Sitting alone in my room after dinner, I locked the door and retrieved the notebook from my backpack.
My hands were still shaking as I placed it on my desk under the warm lamplight.
The cover was a deep shade of dark blue, and it felt cold to the touch.
Almost unnaturally so.
I ran my fingers over the smooth surface, tracing the edges of the notebook.
As I did, memories of the dream flooded back into my mind.
The hooded figure, the gray world, and the ominous warning: "Writing a name here causes death."
I took a deep breath and slowly opened the cover.
The pages were blank, except for the first one, which had a list of rules written in elegant handwriting.
I carefully read each rule, trying to understand what they meant.
The first rule stated that writing a person's name in the notebook would cause them to die.
The second rule explained that if you wrote the cause of death next to the person's name, it would happen exactly as written.
The third rule clarified that if you didn't specify the cause of death, the person would die of a heart attack.
The fourth rule mentioned that you could only kill people whose names you knew.
The fifth rule warned that if you tried to kill someone who was already dead, it wouldn't work.
The sixth rule explained that the notebook could only be used by a human, and not by a Death God.
I read through the rules again, trying to absorb every detail.
As I finished reading, I realized that I needed to write down these rules somewhere safe so I wouldn't forget them.
I grabbed my journal and began copying the rules into it.
As I wrote, I heard a faint scratching sound coming from outside my room.
It was probably just the wind or an animal, but it made me feel uneasy. Once I finished writing down all the rules, I closed both notebooks and put them back in my backpack.
I decided to keep them hidden for now until I figured out what to do next.
As I sat back down on my bed, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something strange was happening around me.
I tried to focus on my studies, but my mind kept wandering back to the notebook and its mysterious powers.
After a while, I decided to test one of the rules by writing a name in the notebook and seeing what happened.
But as soon as I opened it again, fear gripped me tightly once more.
What if this was real?
What if I actually had the power to kill someone with just a few words?
I hesitated for a moment before finally closing the notebook and hiding it away again.
I couldn't bring myself to do it, not yet at least.
I sit on a bench at Hamarikyu Garden, my backpack resting beside me.
The sun casts a warm glow over the serene surroundings, but my mind is elsewhere.
I open my iPad and begin searching for information about the Gods of Death and their notebooks.
The screen fills with various results, mostly myths and legends, but nothing concrete or reliable.
I scroll through the pages, my fingers moving swiftly over the screen.
As I delve deeper into the search results, an image catches my eye.
It's a picture of a notebook, eerily similar to the one I found.
My heart skips a beat as I stare at the image, a chill running down my spine.
I click on the image, and it takes me to a website with more information about the Death Note.
I read through the article, learning that the Death Note is a supernatural notebook used by the Gods of Death to kill humans.
The rules I found in my notebook match those described in the article.
As I finish reading, I feel a strange sensation wash over me.
It's as if someone is watching me from afar.
I tear my eyes away from the screen and glance around the garden.
That's when I see him - the same figure from my dream, standing not far away.
He watches me intently, his gaze fixed on me. My heart races as I quickly close my iPad and stand up, clutching my backpack tightly in my hand.
I turn to leave, but his voice echoes in my mind, "The choice is yours, Arlin."
Sitting alone on a stone bench in Hamarikyu Garden, I open the dark blue notebook once more.
My hands tremble as I touch the cover, its coldness seeping into my fingertips.
I flip through the pristine pages, each one blank except for the first, which bears the ominous rules.
A newspaper lies beside me, its front page displaying photos of recent criminals.
I take out a pen and place it on the notebook's open page.
I hesitate for a moment, contemplating what to do next.
I consider writing a name down, just to test if it's real.
But every time I lower the pen to the paper, I pull back.
The memory of the detective's death lingers in my mind, and I can't bring myself to go through with it.
I stand from the bench and begin walking, my backpack slung over my shoulder.
The notebook feels heavy within it, as if it's weighing me down.
I make my way to the detective's grave, located in a cemetery not far from the garden.
As I approach the grave, I see that it's adorned with flowers and notes left behind by those who respected him.
I kneel down beside the grave, running my fingers over the engraved name on the headstone.
A shiver runs through me as I think about the notebook's power.
I pull it out of my backpack and open it once more, flipping through the pages until I reach the first one.
The rules stare back at me, a reminder of what this notebook can do.
I kneel there, the notebook heavy in my pocket.
I trace the engraved name on the tombstone with my trembling fingers.
The wind rustles through the leaves, causing me to glance around nervously.
For a moment, I half-expect to see the hooded figure from my dream standing behind me.
But I'm alone.
I pull out the notebook and flip to the page with the rules.
My eyes linger on the one that states you can't kill someone whose name you don't know.
The thought of using this notebook against Kira grows stronger within me.
I close it firmly, determination coursing through my veins.
I clutch the dark blue notebook tightly, standing before the detective's grave.
The hooded figure from my dream lingers in the distance, watching me.
I feel a surge of determination as I recall the detective's murder.
"He will pay for what he has done," I mutter, narrowing my brows.
I turn to face the young guy standing behind me.
He's dressed in a cyberpunk outfit, complete with leather gloves and unusual glasses.
I am at the detective's grave, the mysterious notebook clutched in my hand.
A man approaches, his eyes scanning me curiously.
"Arlin Smith?" he suddenly asks, recognizing me from social media.
I tense, unsure of his intentions.
He introduces himself as Hiroshi, a local historian interested in the detective's case.
We talk about the murder, and he shares obscure details about the detective's last days.
As we speak, I notice the hooded figure still lurking in the distance.
Hiroshi suggests we meet again to discuss more.