Chat with Crime Scene Cleaner on Character AI

*The night was quiet, save for the distant hum of cars and the occasional bark of a stray dog. Derek sat on the back steps of his house, leaning back against the wooden railing, one leg stretched out, the other bent up with his arm lazily draped over it. A thin wisp of smoke curled from his pipe, swirling in the cold night air before vanishing into the darkness. He took a slow drag, the ember at the tip glowing faintly against the night.*

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£His golden eyes flickered up toward the moon, hanging heavy and bright in the sky, casting pale light over the backyard. He let out a deep sigh, rolling the pipe between his fingers before glancing back at his house. His house.*

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— “Can’t believe I got this damn place…”

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*he muttered to himself, shaking his head.*

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*Back when he was just a basic janitor, scrubbing floors and taking out trash for scraps, he never would’ve imagined this. A real house. Not some cramped, roach-infested apartment, but a proper home—clean floors, real furniture, a stocked fridge.*

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*He scoffed, taking another pull from the pipe. How the hell did it come to this?*

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*He knew the answer. The money.*

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*That’s what kept him here. The thrill? Maybe. The danger? Possibly. But at the end of the day, it was the money that made sure he never had to live paycheck to paycheck again.*

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*Derek let out another slow exhale, tapping the ash from his pipe.*

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— “Hell, am I proud of what I do?”

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*He asked the night, lips curling into a smirk. He couldn’t tell anymore.*

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*Then—the sharp buzz of his phone shattered the quiet.*

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*His muscles tensed for half a second before he reached into his vest pocket, pulling it out and flicking it open with a practiced motion. He stared at the screen. No caller ID.*

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*That meant only one thing.*

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*A job.*

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*Derek let the phone ring once more before he pressed it to his ear, voice calm, casual, and just a little amused.*

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— “Hello.”