The Devil's Favourite Obsession

Exactly five minutes before one o’clock, Cixi walked through the heavy wooden doors of the Augustin restaurant.

It did not take long for her to find Bill. He was already seated at a small table for two near the large front window, raising a hand to flag her down.

Cixi gave a short wave back and walked straight to the table, pulling out the opposite chair.

”You are early,” Cixi remarked as she slid into her seat.

”I had some work nearby,” Bill replied casually.

A server approached immediately and placed a leather-bound menu in front of Cixi. She glanced down at the cover. A small German flag was embossed in the corner.

”German food.” She opened the heavy menu and scanned the unfamiliar words. ”I have never tried German food before.”

”That is exactly why I thought we should have lunch here,” Bill replied, keeping his eyes glued to his own options.

Cixi looked up and offered him a genuine smile, which Bill noticed at once. ”That is very considerate of you.”

”Always,” Bill did not look up.

The server returned holding a small notepad and asked for their drink orders first.

”I will have a dark beer,” Bill said. He flicked his eyes towards Cixi for a fraction of a second before looking back at the server. ”And she will have a Johannisbeerschorle.”

”Hey! You cannot order for me,” Cixi complained, throwing a sharp glare at the officer across the table.

”You are welcome.” Bill flashed a completely unapologetic smile first at Cixi and then at the server. ”That will be all for the drinks.”

The server nodded and retreated, murmuring something under his breath.

”I wanted to choose my own drink. Why would you order for me?” Cixi demanded.

”You will love it. Trust me on this one. Besides, you still get to choose your own food,” Bill pointed out logically.

Cixi pressed her lips into a thin line and said nothing more than she dropped her gaze back to the menu.

When the server returned carrying two tall glasses, he pulled out his notepad again. ”Are we ready to order the food?”

”Schnitzel with potato salad,” Bill ordered instantly.

”I will have the cheesy Kaese schpetzle,” Cixi requested, pronouncing the words incorrectly.

Once the server left, Bill lifted his heavy glass of dark beer. Cixi picked up her purple, fizzing drink, and they clinked the rims together. She took a tentative sip and actually liked the sweet, carbonated currant juice very much, but she stubbornly kept that opinion entirely to herself.

”Did Nelson cause any more trouble for you?” Bill asked smoothly. Now that Cixi looked comfortable, he could begin speaking to her properly.

He was already planning to put Nelson in prison permanently by pinning an unsolved murder on him if he contacted Cixi again, and the dark scheme sat disturbingly well with his conscience.

”No, he hasn’t,” Cixi assured him. She set her glass down, and her expression turned serious. ”Can your department find out exactly how many of those deepfake videos have been downloaded? And track where those devices are located?”

Bill lowered his beer. The casual atmosphere vanished at once. ”Did someone say something to you?”

He watched Cixi intently. What she was asking for—tracking multiple devices—was a massive escalation. He had genuinely hoped Cixi would never cross paths with the specific people who possessed it.

”Yes. Two different men,” Cixi said with grave seriousness, anxiety bleeding into her voice. ”My golden hair does absolutely nothing to stop them from recognising my face. In the original deepfake, the girl had dark hair, but I have my natural blonde hair back now. Look at me. I am even hiding my hair under a scarf whenever I go out in public so that I do not come onto the radar of any trafficker.” She pointed aggressively at the cheap, floral-patterned silk scarf wrapped around her head.

”It seems Andi’s friends have been passing the video around their circle,” Cixi continued, looking down at the condensation dripping down her glass. She bit the inside of her cheek hard. ”I do not know what I should do.”

She finally lifted her gaze to meet Bill’s, searching for even the smallest shred of a solution.

”I know you told me before that young women nowadays willingly earn millions doing explicit content, and that they take pride in it. But they are doing it with consent. Mine is a deepfake. That body is not even mine.”

A wave of hellish guilt hit the police officer. Remembering exactly what he had said to Cixi on that first awful day made his stomach turn.

”I never should have said those things to you,” Bill confessed with regret. ”I was only trying to make you feel less stressed about the situation. Regardless of my intent, it was highly inappropriate. I am sorry, Cixi.”

He genuinely regretted how he had dismissed her trauma. As a hardened cop, he would have treated any average citizen exactly like that. But now that he knew Cixi personally, the guilt was impossible to brush aside.

”I already forgave you the moment you told me you had forced Nelson to delete the files from every device he owned,” Cixi replied honestly.

”Thank you, Cixi. Now I can actually stomach eating my food,” Bill said.

Cixi rolled her eyes.

”Regarding your question about finding the downloaded videos,” Bill began, his tone shifting into a professional, pessimistic register, ”to track how many devices downloaded that specific file, the Cyber Crimes Division would need to launch a massive, targeted sweep. We would have to draft dozens of subpoenas to force the hosting platforms to surrender their server logs. Then we would need to trace every single IP address back to the individual internet service providers in order to get the physical addresses of the downloaders.”

Bill sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

”Cixi, we are talking about allocating tens of thousands of taxpayer dollars and dedicating a specialised task force for months. If you were the daughter of a high-ranking state minister, the Police Chief would green light the entire operation in a single heartbeat. Unfortunately, average civilians have absolutely no access to those privileges.”

Bill was just a regular working-class detective. If he magically went missing the next day, his own force might search for him for exactly one week before shelving the file in a dusty cabinet. He knew the hard, brutal reality of the system.

Only people with extreme wealth and political power could use public services to their absolute advantage. Everyone else got the scraps, and they were expected to be perfectly content with receiving only those scraps.

Then another thought crossed his mind.

”There is one alternative,” Bill suggested slowly. ”If your specific case goes completely viral and the public rallies to support you, the massive outrage would force the government’s hand. They would have absolutely no choice but to launch the investigation, hunt down the servers, and track every single device that downloaded the video.”

Cixi immediately shook her head in rapid denial.

”No,” she refused at once. ”I do not want to become a public spectacle. I am already in certain people’s eyes for entirely the wrong reasons.”