To Daphne 3

“It doesn’t make sense.”
“He was shot while he was brushing his teeth.”
“No signs of ulcers.”
“No sign of any shoving.”

Weng and Yen slowly scanned the hotel room of Agent M. They pictured everything, from the creaking of the door opening slowly, to the point where Agent M was shot. Nothing explained the mysterious 6 words uttered. Something caught Yen’s eye.

“I GOT IT! HE WAS PLAYING A WORD GAME!!! IT WASN’T ANY CLUE!!! STUPID!!!” scream Yen as she picked up the newspaper from the coffee table.

Suddenly two shots rang out. Weng and Yen dropped dead to the ground.


To Daphne 2

What could it possibly mean? Mudsteps? Smut dp? Think southwards, upper deck in Pall Mall? The South Union’s Deputy Prime Minister? No. It all didn’t make sense.

Toothbrush skims ulcer. Don’t push me.

Johnny called in his two assistants.

Agent Yen. Gorgeous as she was, no guy dared approached her. She was well-known for her deadly arm-lock, which two of the early organization members tasted, much to their dismay.
And of course, Agent Weng. An Asian who had a quirky behaviour, and muscles of an elephant. He once took down 44 men of his own size, at the same time, while eating a coney dog.

“Weng and Yen, it’s up to you. Go retrieve the body of Agent M and find out what lies behind the mysterious final words of him. Now go and...” And they disappeared.