Run: 2026-02-20-01KHY9ZT73C63Z04J1NC0ZGHJK

Rain lashed against the gothic windows of Blackwood Manor, mirroring the tempest brewing within its ancient, stone walls tonight. Lord Ashworth, a notorious collector of rare artifacts, lay sprawled upon the Persian rug, lifeless and still. Detective Inspector Davies arrived precisely at eleven, his trench coat dripping with the relentless, chilling November rain. The grand library smelled faintly of old paper, beeswax polish, and something else—a metallic, unwelcome scent. Lady Ashworth, pale and trembling, claimed she discovered her husband during her nightly constitutional stroll. A shattered porcelain figurine of a dancing satyr rested near the victim’s outstretched, cold and unnaturally positioned hand. Silas Blackwood, the family’s longtime solicitor, nervously adjusted his spectacles while avoiding direct eye contact with anyone present. The only visible wound was a single, precise puncture mark located just beneath Lord Ashworth’s prominent, elegantly shaped jawline. Empty glasses and a half-finished chessboard suggested a recent, perhaps contentious, game had been abruptly interrupted earlier tonight. Davies surveyed the room meticulously, noting every detail, comprehending that secrets resided within these opulent, shadowed surroundings.