CHAPTER 5
Kang Yul began his work in earnest.
Files were already piled high on his desk.
Among them, Kang Yul’s gaze stopped at a recent murder case that occurred in Namcheon City.
‘Namcheon City Female Murder Case.’
The victim’s face in the photo was so badly bruised it was hard to recognize, and clear marks of strangulation were left on the back of her neck.
Kang Yul quietly flipped through the documents and asked,
“Has the autopsy result for the Namcheon City murder case come out?”
The investigator Junsu, who had been assigned to work with him, nodded.
“Yes. The cause of death has been confirmed as asphyxiation due to neck compression. No other notable findings were discovered.”
“What about CCTV?”
“The crime scene was a blind spot. The streetlights were out, and most nearby building cameras were turned off. There are still no witnesses.”
“Was the initial investigation properly conducted?”
Junsu scratched his head awkwardly.
“Well… there was heavy rain, so the scene was somewhat damaged. By the time the reporter found the body, its position had already been slightly moved.”
A brief silence passed.
Kang Yul let out a low breath and asked,
“What about the victim?”
“After the autopsy, she’s in the morgue of a hospital under the district office. She was from an orphanage, so there are no reachable family members.”
At those words, Kang Yul’s gaze paused briefly.
His expression didn’t change, but his eyes slowly hardened.
“Just because no one is looking for her doesn’t mean the case is over. It’s been this long since the incident, and there’s still no secured evidence?”
Junsu moved his lips but eventually lowered his head.
“Send me all the original files—scene photos, forensic results, and the autopsy report—to my email.”
Rather than emotion, Kang Yul’s voice carried a sense of long-standing fatigue and coldness.
“Is there no one on the suspect list?”
Junsu glanced at him and carefully added,
“There’s no specifically identified suspect, but… among the residents, there’s talk that a sex offender who was recently released has been seen nearby.”
“A sex offender?”
Junsu quickly slid a flyer toward Kang Yul.
“This person. Han Sangtae. He served time for a sex crime five years ago and was recently released.”
The man in the photo looked to be in his mid-40s, his expression blank and eerily hollow.
“Even if it’s just a baseless rumor, we still need to verify it.”
—
That night.
“Stop coming to pick me up already. Am I a kid?”
Hajin spoke with irritation in her voice.
Lee Damju crossed her arms and replied indifferently,
“If you were a kid, at least you’d listen. You’re worse than one, so this is what happens.”
“What are you even saying.”
Hajin shook her head.
“Do you think I want this? The club lights are practically blinding me.”
Though she grumbled, the truth was that ever since that day, Lee Damju had been coming here every day around Hajin’s quitting time.
Since Hajin’s café was right next to a club, it made her uneasy.
What if someone followed her, or some drunk person clung to her?
Her worries always ran ahead of reality.
Hajin adjusted the strap of her bag and sighed.
“At twenty-seven, I’m probably the only person whose older sister comes to pick her up. It’s so embarrassing.”
“Choose your words properly, little sister. It’s not embarrassing, it’s something to be grateful for.”
“Grateful, my foot.”
“Embarrassment lasts a moment, but danger lasts a lifetime. You’re carrying the self-defense item I gave you, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s exactly your problem.”
The two bickered as they turned into an alley.
And then it happened.
A glance.
A heavy gaze stabbed into her back.
Lee Damju instinctively turned her head.
But under the streetlight, the alley was completely empty.
“What’s wrong?” Hajin asked.
“Nothing. Let’s go…”
Lee Damju turned back and continued walking.
But it still felt like someone’s gaze was clinging to her back.
It must be her imagination.
She tried to think that, but the back of her neck grew cold.
The next day, Lee Damju was browsing online through the notification details of a recently released sex offender when she stood up from her seat.
The unfamiliar gaze she had been feeling for the past few days kept bothering her.
It didn’t feel right to dismiss it as mere imagination.
This kind of anxiety could turn into another civil complaint.
In the end, Lee Damju decided to go to the police station herself.
Arriving at the station, she stood in front of the complaint desk and raised her voice at a detective.
“How far has the investigation into the Namcheon City murder case progressed? Residents can’t sleep, and we’re getting dozens of complaint calls a day.”
The detective scratched his head awkwardly.
“We are investigating. So if you could just wait a little…”
“Wait how long? It’s been so long since the incident.”
Lee Damju’s voice grew sharper.
“Now there’s even a sex offender involved, and it’s causing more panic. Suspicious people keep appearing around too… At least increase patrols.”
“It’s not something we can just do because we want to. We need orders from above…”
At that moment, the door to the office next door opened, and another detective’s voice came out.
“You’re handling the case right away after coming down from Seoul.”
‘Seoul? Assignment?’
“I’m just doing what needs to be done.”
The low voice made Lee Damju pause.
As she lifted her head, her gaze swept over the man.
He looked about 185 cm tall.
Neatly combed black hair, a perfectly fitted suit, a sharp jawline, and cold eyes.
Even the knot of his tie was immaculate.
He looked like someone straight out of a movie.
At that moment, Mina’s words from a few days ago crossed her mind.
“…They say he’s a prosecutor from the Seoul Central District Prosecutors’ Office.”
“I happened to overhear him talking with the mayor in the hallway earlier. Apparently, he was just assigned here.”
The detective politely greeted him.
“Then please take care, Prosecutor Seo.”
The man gave a slight nod and left the police station.
Just then, Lee Damju’s phone suddenly rang.
It was the head of the Civil Affairs Department.
“Yes, this is Lee Damju.”
A hurried voice came through the receiver.
“Damju, you’re still at the police station, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There’s another complaint about that alley being unsafe. If it’s not resolved today, they’re threatening to set City Hall on fire. Take some photos of the site on your way back. I’ll report it immediately.”
“Yes, understood. I’ll head there right now.”
Lee Damju quickly hung up and grabbed her document bag.
“Anyway, please make sure to increase patrols. Otherwise, I’ll be back.”
As soon as she said that, she quickly left the police station.
Just then, a taxi pulled in, and Lee Damju ran toward it, shouting,
“Taxi!”
But the moment she reached for the handle, a long shadow blocked her.
“Please follow some order.”
When she looked up, it was the same prosecutor from earlier.
For a moment, Lee Damju was speechless.
Seeing him up close made him even more striking.
Cold eyes contrasted with unexpectedly soft lips.
But—
“As you can see, I caught this one.”
His firm, controlled tone left no room for compromise.
Lee Damju flinched, then quickly spoke.
“I’m really sorry. I’m in a hurry right now. Then…”
As she tried to move away, the man blocked her path again.
“I’m in a hurry as well.”
Her steps halted.
There was a strange pressure in that short sentence.
At that moment, his phone rang, and he answered it.
“…Yes, understood. Yes, yes. I’ll be there soon…”
And then—
“There’s another complaint about that alley being unsafe. If it’s not resolved today, they’re threatening to set City Hall on fire…”
The words suddenly came back to her.
Lee Damju glanced at him and seized the moment.
While his attention was on the call, she clenched her teeth, shoved him with her shoulder, and slipped into the taxi.
“I’m really sorry!”
Bang, the sound of the door closing.
“Driver, please hurry to Cheongsong Alley in Namcheon-dong!”
It was something she would never normally do.
She was someone who strictly followed etiquette and public manners.
But she had to put out the urgent fire first.
There might be a real fire.
A cold feeling still lingered at the back of her head.
When she glanced through the rear window, the man was still standing there.
His arms still crossed, his lips stiff as if in disbelief.
Lee Damju moved her lips and muttered,
“…I’m sorry.”
A voice no one could hear.
It scattered inside the car like a whisper.
But Lee Damju didn’t know.
That in trying to put out one fire, she had ignited a much bigger one in that man.
