He takes cases on a whim, cracks them with hard-core logic, and solves the strangest crimes on sheer instinct.
With a monkey for an assistant and his heart set on retirement, the detective sleeps in a refrigerator, waiting for the bait to catch its willing prey.
Under the light of the Phantasmoon, the vile beast howls. How will he draw the net on this hunt?

Canon of Beastie Detective (I)

“Dedicated to my friend, Ashveil. He has no talent for prose, so I am happy to continue serving as his 'Narrator' through this book.”

To outsiders, my friend is extremely eccentric. For example:

1. His pocket watch is always delayed, but he refuses to replace it.①
2. He talks in his sleep frequently.②
3. He has a habit of sleeping in the refrigerator.③
4. He enjoys being rude while others are trying to write, and even goes so far as to snatch away their feather quill… like right now.

…
Due to these oddities and his total lack of deductive skill, my friend tried the following to become a “real” detective:

Monday: Brought home a stack of deduction guides and studied them for five whole minutes.
Tuesday: Bought clothes for disguises, but they were too garish to be of much use.
Wednesday: Dressed as a gentleman to join a high-society banquet, but was kicked out for poor table etiquette.
Thursday: Spent the afternoon disguised as a friendly old lady, but the police were called when he revealed his male voice while digging for info.
Friday: He landed a client. His career finally seemed to be going somewhere.
Saturday: Slept all day on his deduction guides.
Sunday: Day off.
Monday: No clients. Another day off.
This endeavor ended in a total, if temporary, failure.
…

Now Mr Ashveil is the “Ashen Detective” of Planarcadia, running the most secluded detective agency in Dovebrook District and leading his loyal employees with bananas. Reflecting on the time he spent in what I call “Beastie Rolepay,” he had this to say:
“Don't believe a word of Mister N's nonsense. It wasn't that bad.”
He didn't even blink as he spoke, wearing a perfectly natural smile.
It seems those experiences really did improve his acting.

From this, I draw a simple conclusion:
“Detective's Code, Rule 1: Act like a detective long enough, and you'll practically become one.”

(Notes added at my friend's request:
① Ashveil is not an idiot who doesn't know how to set a watch.
② Ashveil's sleep-talking is not funny.
③ Ashveil is a human, not a bear in hibernation.)