This is the door to your room.

This is the door to your room.

"Good night, lieutenant."

"Just a moment. You had some questions earlier, I believe, and, besides, we should discuss our progress on the investigation. Let's go out to the balcony."

"Alright, let's go."

"Just a moment. We should talk about our progress on the investigation. Let's go out to the balcony."

Something about it has changed.

Try to unlock the door.

Your key no longer turns in the lock.

You feel uncertain, like a child who's lost his mother in the crowd.

"It must be an electronic lock. You will have to get Garte, the cafeteria manager, to open it first -- after you've paid for the night."

Just punch the damned door. No locks are going to keep you out.

"Nah, I'll get by somehow. Didn't like that room very much anyway."

"I would advise against that. It's already late, and you won't find cheaper accommodation in the vicinity."

"Actually, I don't need to pay -- I will brave the streets. Go undercover as a hobocop."

"Our investigation does not at present require for anyone to go undercover. Let's drop this discussion and go settle your debt with the manager."

He's asserting his leadership talents because he is concerned about you.

Hey, remember that trash bin idea...? Time to get climbing!

You could try climbing into that trash bin in the yard, hobocop style...

You could try climbing into that trash bin in the yard, hobocop style... after you've gotten open the lid.

[Leave.]

"Right, I should go pay my debts before I can go to sleep."

He nods. "Yes, we both need to get proper rest tonight."

Punch the door.

The door rings from the impact, but does not budge.

(His voice echoes from downstairs.) "What the hell is going on up there?"

The lieutenant looks at you with a mixture of pity and weariness. "Come on, let's go down."

Your fist bounces off the door and comes back to you on a wave of agony that surges up your arm.

"Aaaaa! It huuurts!"

Your angry voice carries through the Whirling, but you still can't stop the tears from welling up in your eyes...

(His voice echoes from downstairs.) "What the hell is going on up there?"

The lieutenant looks at you with a mixture of pity and weariness. "Come on, let's go down."

Try to stay cool.

You've got this. Men like you don't cry unless it serves their purposes.

Nice try. The tears come streaming down your face as you crumble to the ground.

Blubber. And keep blubbering.

Confront the door with a stoical expression. You are still The Law.

(His voice echoes from downstairs.) "What's going on up there?"

He nods toward the staircase. "Come on, let's go down."

Keep it in. Cradle your arm.

The tears bring some relief, but not much.

It hurts, but keep your cool. You've got this.

Try one more time. This time with both fists, one after the other.

The door shudders, but appears undamaged.

Pow-pow! That was impressive.

(His voice echoes from downstairs.) "What's going on up there?"

The lieutenant purses his lips. "Admirable form. Now come on, let's go down."

The lieutenant looks on impassively. "Even if you could break down the door, all you would get is another bill."

The door appears undamaged, and even more impassive than the lieutenant.

Even if you could? Don't let him talk you down, son!

"This door will fall prostrate before The Law!" (Punch the door again.)

Observe the damage to your knuckles. Is this really worth it?

The door to your room locks every night at 21.00 if you haven't paid for the room. You can pay downstairs when speaking to Garte, the cafeteria manager.

Still sounds better than sleeping outside.

Yes, and it's not just a matter of comfort, but also of principle. This may be your last lifeline to being a police officer instead of a hobo.

Why would I want to stay in such a place?

Because it's your last lifeline to being a police officer instead of a hobo.