Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK9HR239FDYZJ1ZV27AQXZG

Fog swallowed the harbor lights. Inspector Hale arrived before dawn. A bell tolled, then stopped. Someone screamed inside Warehouse Nine. He found a body waiting. The victim clutched seaweed tightly. No footprints marked wet concrete. Only a silver locket gleamed. Its hinge smelled of brandy. Hale pocketed it, unheard carefully. Outside, waves erased every clue. Behind him, footsteps approached softly.