Rain Code : Eye of the Storm

Case 1 - Warming up

The bell above the door announced their arrival with a tingling chime, resonating through the cluttered space filled with artifacts that whispered tales of yesteryears. Yuma stepped inside cautiously, his eyes darting curiously from one item to the next—vintage gramophones, intricate clocks, and dusty oil paintings that seemed to stare back at him with frozen, age-old glances.

Shinigami floated beside him, her presence barely causing a stir in the still air. "Looks like a treasure trove of history," she commented, her voice a hushed murmur amongst the silent witnesses of past eras. "Maybe you'll find a clue or a curse in here."

Yuma chuckled softly, allowing his gaze to linger on a particularly ornate clock before continuing deeper into the shop. That's when they spotted Ray Funshine. The man was as unique as the items he surrounded himself with—an eccentric figure bustling around the back of the store. His hair was a tangled mess of curls, peppered with streaks of gray, and his attire seemed as eclectic as his inventory, featuring a patchwork of different fabrics and eras.

Ray's accent thickened the air, a rich, melodious drawl that sang of distant places and times. "Ah, visitors! Welcome, welcome to Ray’s relics and rarities!" he exclaimed, his voice booming around the shop. "Care to buy a bit of history, or just browsing the bygones?"

Yuma approached, offering a friendly smile to match Ray's enthusiastic greeting. "Just looking around for now," Yuma replied. "Your collection is impressive. How did you get into this line of work?"

Ray's eyes sparkled with the question, clearly pleased. "Oh, a passion for the past, my dear boy! Each of these pieces tells a story, and I reckon I’m just the keeper of tales!" He gestured grandly around him, his hands sweeping through the air as if to physically gather the stories floating about.

Shinigami snickered, hovering closer to a set of old dueling pistols. "Ask him if he's got a story about dueling detectives next," she whispered, her voice a teasing lilt in Yuma's ear.

Turning back to Ray, Yuma nodded appreciatively. "It must be fascinating to learn so much from these objects. What’s one of your favorite finds?" he asked, easing into the conversation with genuine interest, hoping to build rapport before delving into the more sensitive questions about the murder and the antique gun.

Ray launched into a lively recount of acquiring a mid-century automaton, his words a colorful tapestry of adventure and serendipity, his accent curling around each phrase enchantingly. His animated discourse on the various treasures filling his shop slowly shifted to a more solemn tone as Yuma steered the conversation towards a more sensitive subject. He watched Ray's expressions carefully, noting each shift and twitch that might hint at more than the man wanted to reveal.

"So, Ray, have you ever dealt with antique weapons? I can imagine they would be quite a collector’s item," Yuma asked casually, his eyes scanning a rusted cutlass mounted on the wall.

Ray's enthusiasm dimmed slightly, his hands gesturing broadly as he backed away toward a display case filled with ornate, non-functional pistols. "Oh, weapons, yes, yes! Fascinating bits of engineering and history, they are!" Ray exclaimed. His dialect thickened with his excitement, making his words almost musical. "But, oh, let me tell you, those are just for show! Selling such things would bring the Peacekeepers knocking faster than you can say 'antique.' No, no, I keep to the safe side of the law!"

Yuma nodded, but his suspicions grew. The enthusiastic denial seemed a tad overplayed. "They must have quite the stories behind them," he continued, trying to probe without making Ray defensive. "Ever come across anything... particularly rare or unusual?"

Ray beamed, seizing the opportunity to showcase his expertise. "Indeed! Each piece has its own tale. Like this one here," he said, pointing to a beautifully engraved flintlock pistol behind the glass. "Eighteenth-century, used by a naval officer. Never for sale, but a joy to study and preserve."