Great—**we're starting a new series of adventures with Commissioner Jakub Rok and his dog Argo!**I'm jumping right into **the extensive, dark, and full-length Chapter 1 of the new series**.

--

# **NEW ADVENTURE SERIES – CHAPTER 1

***"The House by the Bay, Which Isn't on the Map"***

Autumn had arrived in the city faster than anyone expected. The air smelled of wet leaves, and the narrow streets by the harbor were shrouded in fog, muffling the streetlights, turning them into blurry yellow spots. Commissioner Jakub Rok sat in the backseat of an unmarked police car, petting Argo's neck. The shepherd was tense—the subtle, almost imperceptible trembling of his paws always signaled that something was amiss.

And Jakub knew perfectly well that Argo was right.

The police radio suddenly screeched, brutally shattering the silence:

— **Units near the port, call number 1138. Body found on the cliffs above the bay. Probable homicide.**

Jakub reached for the microphone.

— **Commissioner Rok, I'm in. We're five minutes from the location.**

Argo raised his head. That characteristic, wild spark appeared in his eyes—instinct, work, duty.

The car moved off.

--

## **Cliffs that don't like witnesses**

The bay was a place no one but fishermen and a few anglers ventured into. The cliffs rose high, sharp and jagged, and the wind always carried the sound of the sea—menacing, drawn-out, like a warning.

When Jakub and Argo reached the top, a patrol was already waiting. A young officer, pale and visibly stressed, showed them the way to the body.

"Found half an hour ago. A tourist with a drone spotted something suspicious on the rocks… and that was it."

Argo approached first. He sniffed the air, then turned sharply to the right and pulled Jakub after him.

And then the commissioner saw the victim.

A man, about forty years old. Elegantly dressed, though his clothes were slashed, as if someone had tried to tear something from his hands. His face was frozen in a terrified expression. And on his neck—a thin but deep gash, as if made by a sharp, narrow knife.

"**Professional cut.**" Jakub muttered, crouching.

But something else caught his attention.

In the dead man's hand was a piece of paper. Crumpled, damp, but clearly preserved. Jakub carefully removed it and straightened it out.

The paper was a sketch of an old house. Simple, yet detailed—two stories, a terrace, the characteristic three windows per floor.

And under the sketch, a single sentence:

**“A house by the bay, not on the map.”**

Jakub felt the air thicken around him.

He didn't know this house.

He'd never seen it.

But Argo began to shift nervously, as if… sensing people. Or tracks.

“Is something nearby?” Jacob whispered.

Argo growled softly.

It was a warning.

--

## **Traces That Shouldn't Exist**

The shepherd set off into the forest growing on the cliff. He led quickly, confidently, and Jacob followed, careful not to lose his footing on the wet leaves.

And then Argo stopped suddenly.

He pricked his ears, stretched out his paws, and turned his muzzle down to the ground.

Jakub stepped closer.

There, in the muddy ground, was a footprint. But not an ordinary one. It was… upside down. As if someone were walking backward. A few meters away—another one.

And another one.

Jakub frowned.

“**Someone tried to deceive us.**”

Argo hissed softly in agreement.

The tracks led to a narrow, almost invisible path, obliterated by wind and rain so completely that no one onlookers would have noticed it even from up close.

But Argo noticed.

--

## **The House That Shouldn't Exist**

After thirty minutes of walking deeper into the forest, the path abruptly ended in a small clearing. And there…

Jakub stopped dead in his tracks.

There stood a house.

Exactly as in the sketch.

Wooden, gray, with three windows on the first floor and a terrace whose railings looked as if they had been eroded by time. The house looked old… too old for anyone to live in. Yet, a faint wisp of smoke rose from the chimney.

“**Who's there?” Jacob muttered under his breath.

Argo began to bark. First, a single bark, warningly, then with increasing intensity.

Then the door to the house creaked open.

It slowly opened.

A woman stood in the doorway.

She was gray-haired, gaunt, with eyes so dark they looked like two black holes.

And she smiled.

“**I've been waiting for you.**” she said.

--

If you want—**write “Yes”**, and we'll move on to **Chapter 2: “The Woman Who Knew Too Much”**—a house full of tension, darkness, and a secret revealing a house that doesn't appear on any map.