HookCat

It is July 1960 and someone has decapitated your favourite rubber duck right on your doorstep. Grabbing your coat, hat, and hookshot, you set out after the culprit — only for them to bolt toward the abandoned docks the moment they spot you. You close the gap, miscalculate a rooftop jump, and land safely but lose the trail. Now you are navigating a maze of dockside obstacles — locked doors, wrecked pathways, stretches of open water — before the culprit slips away for good.