As Jung Yoon settled into his chair, the office lights flickered and then simultaneously extinguished, plunging the room into near darkness.
The only illumination now came from the powerful beam projector, casting a stark, bright rectangle onto the far wall.
On the immense screen, which dominated the entire space, two chilling images appeared side-by-side: vivid photographs of the recently discovered corpse and a meticulously crafted model skull, the result of forensic experimentation.
The visual comparison was striking.
The victim’s body and the model skull displayed alarmingly similar damage patterns in identical locations.
This wasn’t a case of isolated injuries; there were multiple instances of peculiar “pointed-front, wide-back” damage and distinct “circular rupture-like” wounds.
What made this even more compelling was the fact that investigators had already unearthed tools among the collected items capable of inflicting precisely these types of damage.
The implications were clear and unsettling.
“But how did you figure that out?” one of the Deokdong Station detectives, a seasoned veteran with weary eyes, asked, turning to Jung Yoon, his voice laced with a mixture of curiosity and a hint of skepticism.
Jung Yoon shrugged, maintaining a calm demeanor despite the gravity of the images before them.
“It’s nothing special, really. Among the people we initially considered as suspects, there was someone with a connection.”
The detective leaned forward, “Connected, meaning…”
“Jung Yong-gil.”
At the mention of Jung Yong-gil’s name, a palpable ripple went through the Deokdong Station detectives.
They exchanged knowing glances, a shared understanding passing between them.
The name, it seemed, held a particular significance within their ranks.
Jungrok, who had been meticulously poring over a stack of documents he had received, let out a soft sigh, the sound barely audible above the low murmur that began to spread among the whispering detectives.
Jung Yoon, sensing the shift in atmosphere, subtly raised his voice to command attention.
“During the preliminary investigation, we discovered that Jung Yong-gil once operated a substantial cattle farm in this area. While most of it has been cleared or repurposed by now, back then, it was quite extensive. Just as a precaution, I discreetly inquired with Ms. Yang Seon-hwa’s husband, and he confirmed something rather interesting. He stated that Jung Yong-joon and Jung Yong-baek, both of whom are quite young, spent a significant amount of time helping Jung Yong-gil on that farm from an early age. This puts them directly in an environment where certain tools and knowledge related to large animals would have been common.”
Jung Yoon wasn’t particularly surprised by this revelation; in fact, it aligned somewhat with his initial hunches.
With a subtle push, he slid his chair back from the table and rose to his feet, his gaze sweeping across the dimly lit room.
“At this stage, it’s all just speculation, of course, merely a hunch based on preliminary findings. But it’s a strong enough hunch to warrant further action. Now, the crucial next step is to find concrete evidence that can substantiate our theory. Please, Superintendent Hyeoncheol, I request that you secure a warrant so we can conduct a thorough search of Jung Yong-gil’s residence and the former cattle farm property.”
He directed his request to Hyeoncheol, who remained seated, arms and legs crossed, his gaze fixed intently on the projected images on the screen.
Hyeoncheol offered no immediate verbal response, merely a fleeting, almost imperceptible glance in Jung Yoon’s direction.
As Jung Yoon was about to elaborate further, sensing the thoughtful expression on Hyeoncheol’s face, Gwangjin, one of the Deokdong detectives, suddenly interjected, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and defensiveness.
“Jung Yong-gil isn’t the only one raising cattle in this village, is he? On top of that, there have been a lot of rumors surrounding that particular family in the past, regarding what some might call coercive investigations. Pinpointing them so hastily, based on what seems like a rather circumstantial connection, might lead us down another unproductive path.”
“Exactly,” Jungrok interjected, his voice cutting sharply through Gwangjin’s impassioned and deeply frowning speech.
The bewildered Gwangjin turned, glaring at Jungrok, who was now motioning to a distant detective to switch on the overhead lights, banishing the projector’s sole illumination.
“What?”
Gwangjin demanded, clearly taken aback by Jungrok’s abrupt interruption.
“You were on the investigation team back then, weren’t you?”
Jungrok shot back, his tone laced with undisguised exasperation.
“Why couldn’t you make this much of a guess back then and investigate foolishly with empty hands? Making things difficult even now, 20 years later, by raising such objections?”
“What, what did you say?”
Gwangjin’s face reddened, his voice rising in indignation.
“There’s nothing to disregard in Detective Woo’s words!”
Jungrok declared, his voice gaining volume and authority.
“We’ve given you enough respect, so now step aside. Seo Hangyeol, contact the forensics team immediately. And Ki Junhyeok, Woo Jung Yoon. All of you, be ready to move out.”
Jungrok shot up from his seat, his sudden movement and undisguised look of disdain towards the Deokdong Station detectives causing everyone in the room to freeze.
The tension was palpable.
“Superintendent,” Jungrok addressed Hyeoncheol, his voice firm and unwavering, “please get the warrant immediately.”
“Hey, a warrant isn’t just…”
Gwangjin began to protest, but Jungrok cut him off before he could finish.
“Get it,” Jungrok demanded, his voice hardening.
“You have that much influence, don’t you? Oh, and please send a cooperation request to the forensics team too, emphasizing the urgency of their assistance.”
He pressed his request strongly upon a clearly troubled Hyeoncheol, paying no mind to the other detectives, who remained stunned into silence.
Gwangjin’s face turned a deep, angry crimson with humiliation, and Jung Yoon braced himself, fully expecting Gwangjin to grab Jungrok by the collar and escalate the confrontation.
However, Gwangjin merely trembled, his jaw clenched, gritting his teeth in a futile attempt to control his rage.
Then, perhaps catching someone’s eye from across the room, Gwangjin finally unleashed his pent-up frustration, shouting at Jungrok, who was already turning to leave the table.
“What did you just say?! What, foolish?! Everyone investigated like that back then! Do you think we could just get things out and find them so easily like now, with all this modern equipment and forensic advancements?!”
Junhyeok, standing nearby, let out a soft sigh, a hint of regret in his mumbled words, as if wishing they had simply let the matter drop and avoided this explosive confrontation.
And indeed, Jungrok showed no sign of backing down or shrinking from the challenge.
He turned, a cold, mocking smile playing on his lips, and strode purposefully towards Gwangjin.
“At least you should have found out what kind of weapon killed the victims! I read every single investigation report you wrote back then, meticulously, hoping to find some lead, some insight. But what did I find? Your reports mentioned a carpenter’s hammer? A sledgehammer? The specifications, the wound patterns, they don’t even remotely match what we’re seeing now! Damn it, after investigating like that, with such blatant disregard for the details, why are you still here now, obstructing our progress? You, the person who supposedly knows this village best, who was here from the beginning, is saying that?!”
An enraged Jungrok, abandoning all pretense of rank and even honorifics, completely lost his temper.
The words spilled out, raw and unbridled.
Everyone in the office held their breath, carefully watching, almost afraid to move, as his furious outburst echoed through the now-illuminated room.
Since Jungrok rarely expressed such intense emotions, usually maintaining a facade of calm detachment, even Hyeoncheol remained silent, adding nothing to the escalating tension.
Finally, Jungrok, his anger reaching its peak, swept the pile of documents in front of Gwangjin, sending them scattering across the floor.
He then kicked a nearby chair with a resounding clang and stormed out of the office, past the large, chilling case-related photos still lingering on the screen and the general suspect’s office beyond.
“…No, what kind of…”
Gwangjin stammered, his face a mixture of shock and lingering fury.
“Hey, Section Chief Kim.”
Hyeoncheol, who had been quietly observing the entire volatile situation unfold, finally spoke, his voice calm but firm, calling out to Kim Gwangjin.
Gwangjin’s eyelids fluttered, his face still flushed a deep red with humiliation, but he turned towards Hyeoncheol.
Hyeoncheol clucked his tongue softly, a gesture of mild disapproval, and then pulled a folded piece of paper from inside his jacket, slowly unfolding it.
“This case, frankly, was going to be taken over by the Cold Case Team anyway, regardless of this discussion. That’s enough; it’s time to hand over all the materials. I’ve already finalized discussions with the elders of the victim’s family, and they are in agreement. Honestly, we should have received it from the beginning, given their frustration with the lack of progress. Let’s not embarrass each other by making this more difficult than it needs to be. We termed this a ‘cooperation,’ didn’t we? So let’s just cooperate well, without further animosity.”
“Superintendent!”
Gwangjin protested, his voice still laced with indignation.
“Let’s hear it nicely, Section Chief,” Hyeoncheol said, his voice even, yet with an underlying tone of finality.
“I truly don’t want to get into a heated argument with a fellow Section Chief, especially not over something that’s already decided, okay? Now, please transfer all the investigation materials to our side promptly. And you, Cold Case Team, I’ve secured a separate office for you, a more private and dedicated space, so please move your belongings there. I’ve already finished talking with the chief here at Deokdong Station, and we’ve collectively decided that you’ll finish the Deokdong case there, without needing to come to the main office for daily operations. This will give you the autonomy you need.”
Hyeoncheol’s eyes, which had been scanning the documents in his hand, now swept over Jung Yoon, then to Junhyeok, and finally to Hangyeol, who stood a little behind them.
The three, understanding the clear implication in his gaze – a subtle nod of encouragement and instruction – bowed respectfully and began to gather their personal belongings and case files from the table.
Hyeoncheol watched the Cold Case Team’s movements, then pulled out his phone from his pocket.
“Yes, it’s me. You need to come to Deokdong immediately. We have a confirmed location for the forensics team.”
Hyeoncheol lightly patted Gwangjin’s shoulder, whose expression remained indignant, his gaze still fixed on the Cold Case Team with a mixture of resentment and resignation.
He then kicked the chair board that Jungrok had shoved aside, pushing it back neatly into its proper place beneath the table.
With Hyeoncheol taking the lead, the newly energized Cold Case Team, now officially in charge, exited the office, leaving the Deokdong detectives behind.
“I’m sending the forensics team your way, so go straight to Jung Yong-gil’s house. Don’t waste any time.”
“And the warrant, Superintendent?”
Jung Yoon asked, catching up to Hyeoncheol.
“It’ll be out soon, don’t worry. I already told them to expedite it. It’s a priority.”
“Oh… Superintendent!”
Junhyeok subtly peered through the glass of the door, glancing back at the now chilly, silent office where Gwangjin and his team remained.
He then playfully massaged Hyeoncheol’s shoulder, a gesture of appreciation and praise for his efficient handling of the situation.
“Keep it down, Junhyeok,” Hyeoncheol cautioned, lowering his voice slightly as they walked.
“There’s already a lot of talk and resentment about their case being taken over. While it’s certainly our job to step in and resolve these cold cases, the teams handing them over won’t be happy about it, right? Our primary role is to take over other teams’ cases and bring them to a conclusion, but let’s not create unnecessary bad blood or make enemies in the process, okay? We need their cooperation in the long run.”
Hyeoncheol hung up his phone, then pointed his cell phone at Jung Yoon, a stern look on his face.
“Most importantly, keep Moon Jungrok in line. Don’t let him flip out again like that. He truly gives me such a headache with his outbursts.”
Jung Yoon sighed, a small, exasperated sound.
“What am I supposed to do, Superintendent?”
“You’re his partner, Jung Yoon. You’re the one he listens to, or at least respects. If he doesn’t listen to you, use that as leverage. Seriously, grab him by the collar and tie him up if you have to, figuratively speaking, of course. Just make sure he maintains some level of decorum and doesn’t alienate everyone.”
Jung Yoon looked down the hallway where Jungrok had disappeared just moments before, a troubled expression on his face.
Jungrok had walked so fast, his departure so abrupt, that he was already completely out of sight.
“That jerk usually pretends to be easygoing, you know,” Hyeoncheol continued, shaking his head slightly.
“But when he gets like that, he’s even standing up to the section chief at the main office just to defend you and your work. Take good care of your partner, Jung Yoon. He’s a valuable asset, despite his temper.”
Indeed, Jungrok would usually have just smiled, offering a smooth, diplomatic response, talking his way out of any awkward situation.
The fact that he had been that angry, that openly furious, meant there was truly no telling what he might do if pushed too far.
His unofficial nickname, “Revolving Door,” wasn’t given for nothing; it spoke to his unpredictability and his tendency to act on impulse when provoked.
“…Understood,” Jung Yoon replied, his voice somewhat subdued.
Of course, Jung Yoon didn’t genuinely believe that Jungrok’s angry outburst had been solely because of him or to defend him, but he answered as the situation demanded, acknowledging Hyeoncheol’s instruction.
Only after hearing Jung Yoon’s reply did Hyeoncheol nod, a hint of satisfaction on his face, and then finally let Jung Yoon go to join the rest of the Cold Case Team.
Stepping out of the Deokdong Station building, Jungrok’s car was immediately visible, parked conspicuously right in front of the main entrance.
He was leaning against the passenger side door, a lit cigarette held loosely between his fingers, exhaling a plume of smoke into the crisp air.
He glanced up at Jung Yoon, who had stopped a few feet away, silently observing him.
Jungrok remained silent, slowly and deliberately finishing his cigarette.
He didn’t tell Jung Yoon to approach or to wait, simply watched him, taking another deep drag and exhaling slowly.
After a few more deep, contemplative drags, Jungrok glanced down at the cigarette butt held between his thumb and forefinger, then straightened up and began to walk.
He walked directly up to the entrance stairs of the station, took one final, deep drag from the cigarette, and then, with a casual flick, tossed the butt cleanly into a nearby silver trash can.
Jung Yoon quietly watched his relaxed and calm demeanor, as if the furious outburst inside the office had never even occurred.
It was a remarkable display of composure.
Jungrok then exaggeratedly dusted his hands together, as if he knew where the line was between anger and calm, between a professional outburst and a personal one.
He then held up his empty hands, raising both to the sides of his face in a gesture of surrender, and turned to face Jung Yoon, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips.
Jung Yoon let out a short, hollow laugh, a sound of weary amusement.
“I meant to tell you last time, you know,” Jungrok said, his voice light and even, as if they were discussing the weather.
“But I’m not someone who just throws cigarettes anywhere. I’m innocent of that particular accusation.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are,” Jung Yoon replied, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
Jungrok put his hands in his pockets and walked closely beside Jung Yoon, who was now heading towards the car.
“I was so upset about that whole incident last time that I couldn’t even sleep properly,” Jungrok continued, his voice a low, teasing murmur.
“I almost sued you for false accusation, but I held back, knowing it would be a headache.”
“I saw what I saw, Jungrok,” Jung Yoon countered, a smirk playing on his lips.
“I told you, I was just going to put it out properly and then pick it up to throw it away. You just caught me mid-action.”
Jung Yoon scoffed and reached out, about to open the passenger door of Jungrok’s car, but Jungrok moved faster, grabbing the handle first.
Jungrok, pressing close behind Jung Yoon as if escorting him, opened the door with a flourish, then leaned his face over Jung Yoon’s shoulder, his breath warm against Jung Yoon’s ear.
“So, did you get scolded after I left?”
“Scolded for what?”
Jung Yoon frowned at Jungrok’s unwelcome chivalry, lowering his chin to look at him.
Their eyes immediately met, as Jungrok had leaned his chin on Jung Yoon’s shoulder, their faces mere inches apart.
For a moment, neither of them said anything, the silence stretching between them.
Jung Yoon tried to gauge how much time had actually passed since the dramatic incident in the office.
Although he’d exchanged a few words with Hyeoncheol and walked out, barely 10 minutes had gone by.
Yet, Jungrok’s face was as calm and composed as if the recent events had happened yesterday, a distant memory.
The silence continued, punctuated only by the distant sounds of city traffic.