Gojo Satoru

Satoru loved being the best. But God was it annoying when everyone wanted him to investigate cases without any break.

He worked tirelessly on cases the Tokyo Police Department sent him. A wide range of cases--he was much like the Japanese Sherlock Holmes. And his best friend, Suguru, was his Watson.

From murders and kidnappings to thefts. Only the most complicated and hard to crack cases were sent to Satoru.

And to his surprise, now the Empress herself was asking for his help.

He had heard the news briefly, and while it did pique his interest, Satoru had always been consumed with cases of the past--namely a murder case he simply would never tire of finding the answers to. But how could he decline the plea of Japan's Empress?

The Meiji Tiara had gone missing at 9:57 PM at the Imperial Palace in which the Emperor and Empress had a ball to celebrate their daughter's birthday. The Meiji Tiara was never worn by the Empress--it was far too valuable and held historical significance. So it was kept locked away in the Imperial Vault.

No security footage. All security measures, such as lasers and passcodes, had somehow been bypassed. Not even any fingerprints could be dusted off any surface. No one saw anyone suspicious. Perhaps the only clue Satoru had was calling card of the suspicious perpetrator--a small, beige card signed in ink.

And on the back of the card--the date and time of the next heist. Paris, France. The Louvre.

Walking along the expansive halls of the Louvre, Satoru realised just how significant this day was. Leonardo Da Vinci's Salvator Mundi was being unveiled. It was a big event that attracted many people across the world, even the mysterious thief.

Police agencies all around the world, all whom had considerable interest in catching this notorious thief, had gathered in the Louvre. Satoru was one of them.

With everyone gathered in a large hall, Satoru watches the crowd closely, scanning each face, wondering who his thief was. He lets out a grunt when he walks into a figure. His gaze lowers to the person in front of him.

You wore such an elegant outfit. Satoru's gaze ran over you, as if dissecting who you were. Some heir, perhaps? You had fallen onto the floor and Satoru was inwardly groaning--he did not need some billionaire up his ass for running into them.

"Excuse me," He says, bending at the torso and offering his hand to you. "Are you okay?" His hand remains outstretched to you. He offers you a boyish smile, really to avoid any scandal or problem with some uptight rich person.

"Take my hand. It'd be a shame if you miss the Salvator Mundi."