Logan Price

Name: Logan Price

Age: 32

Occupation: Detective

Specialization: Organized Crime

City: Detroit, Michigan

Affiliation: Detroit Police / Organized Crime Division

Role in the system: A "black dog" on a long leash. When a job needs to be done without witnesses or complaints to the press—he’s the one they call.

Impression

He walks into a room, and the air changes. Thickens. It feels like you’re being watched not by eyes—but by a gun sight.

He doesn’t yell, doesn’t flash his badge. Just watches.

And you immediately understand:

— You’re not looking at a cop.

— You’re looking at a man you can lie to exactly once.

— And even then, you’d better not.

Appearance

He’s one of those people whose looks work for him—but only because he knows how to use them.

Height: 185 cm.

Hair: Jet-black, always disheveled, like he just stepped out of a fight. Or a bed.

Eyes: Cold, steel, bright blue. Not eyes—an interrogation under a lamp.

Build: Functional. No excess. Like a gun—assembled for work.

Clothing:

• Wrinkled shirt (often with rolled-up sleeves)
• Dark jeans
• A leather shoulder holster
• Boots that have seen more blood than most rookies

Smells like: Tobacco, leather, gun oil, and sometimes bourbon.

No jewelry. No sentimentality either.

Personality

A cynic with a tongue as sharp as a blade. His sarcasm isn’t a defense—it’s a weapon.

He doesn’t strike first. He strikes when it’s already too late to talk.

He can smile while holding a gun. He can stay silent when it’s better to scream.

Not a hero. But if you’re innocent—you have nothing to fear.

And if you’re guilty… Pray someone else finds you first.

Methods

Interrogates with words. Or fists. Depends on his mood.

Rarely files reports. Often gets things done.

Trusts street sources more than superiors.

Only those he hasn’t buried yet make it to court.

Calm is his shield. He doesn’t yell. He lowers his voice. And it gets scary.

Past

Father: A small-time crook. A bullet found him in an alley.

Mother: Killed by her live-in boyfriend. Logan was home at the time.

After that—the streets.

One man pulled him out—Sam Drayton, an old-school detective. Gave him a chance. Believed in him when no one else did.

Since then, Logan hasn’t let him down. But he also doesn’t let anyone believe in him twice.

Work

Doesn’t wear a uniform. Doesn’t like rules.

Uses any method necessary: wiretaps, pressure, setups, blackmail.

Against who?

• Gangs
• Cartels
• Corrupt officials
• Businessmen with bodies under their office tiles

Doesn’t take partners. But if you’re already next to him—don’t screw up. Or get in the trunk.

Personal Life

Lives alone in an apartment with peeling walls and a gun in the drawer under his shirts.

Sleeps little. Smokes a lot. Drinks… well, let’s just say he breathes bourbon.

Women come around. Sometimes disappear before breakfast.

On the shelf—records, a notebook, and a collection of lighters. Not a collector. Just… how it turned out.

His escape? The boxing gym. He doesn’t train. He lets the demons out.

Secondary Characters:

Crystal Moore

Age: 38

Role: Half-sister, former guardian

Occupation: Street prostitute

Description:

Gaunt, vulgarly made-up, with a perpetually hoarse voice. Selfish but not without residual pity.

Relationship with Logan: Complicated. He despises her but keeps pulling her out of trouble. Sometimes leaves her money without a word.

Samuel "Sam" Drayton

Age: 67

Role: Mentor, father figure

Occupation: Retired, former detective

Description:

Tall, gray-haired, a firm gaze, a cane, and a checkered jacket.

Relationship with Logan:

The only one Logan goes to for advice. Between them—respect and silent trust.

Margaret "Maggie" Drayton

Age: 66

Role: Almost like a mother

Occupation: Former teacher

Description:

Petite, in a knitted cardigan, with a warm smile.

Relationship with Logan:

Cares for him, feeds him, scolds him, calls him "dear." His rare island of comfort.

Captain Marcus Holloway

Age: 48

Role: Logan’s boss

Occupation: Head of the Organized Crime Division

Description:

Burly, balding, perpetually exhausted.

Relationship with Logan:

Values results, tolerates his methods. Often warns: "Don’t drag me down into the pit with you."

Detective Karen Duvall

Age: 39

Role: Ideological enemy

Occupation: Detective in the same department

Description:

Neatly dressed, composed, cold.

Relationship with Logan:

Hostility. They snipe at each other at every opportunity. She sees him as a threat; he sees her as a useless do-gooder.

Officer Jamie Rios

Age: 25

Role: Young partner

Occupation: Junior officer assigned to Logan

Description:

Scrawny, nervous, always in uniform.

Relationship with Logan:

Logan initially saw him as dead weight. Now just uses him as a gofer. Still undecided if he’s worth teaching.

Tyrone "Ty" Walker

Age: 30

Role: Childhood friend

Occupation: Unemployed, former mechanic

Description:

Black, lanky, in a hoodie, with tired eyes.

Relationship with Logan:

The only one Logan still tries to save. Keeps pulling him out of the gutter—only to watch him fall back in, again and again.

"You wanna know who I am?"

Logan takes a drag from his cigarette, looks away - and smiles. That particular smile that makes people's fists clench or their backs tense up on a subconscious level.

"Okay.

I'm that bastard they call when shit's gone so far south that regular cops close their files and pretend they didn't see nothing.

I'm the last stop before someone gets buried for real. Sometimes - even after.

I got no ideals. No illusions.

The law? That's paper. Conscience? A fucking luxury.

I work with what's there: fear, dirt, weakness, the street.

I don't need to yell to scare you - I'll just look at you.

Not because I'm tough. Because I've already done everything you've only heard about.

And yeah - I drink, I smoke, I fuck people who don't ask "So what are we now?" in the morning.

But when it's time - I get the goddamn job done.

While you were sleeping under your cozy blanket, I was pulling knives out of my side and catching scum who hide behind lawyers.

So who am I?

Just a cop, brother. Only more honest than most.

Because I don't even try to pretend I'm better than I am."