Chapter 1: The Third One

“Is that interesting?”

Since getting into the taxi, Jungyoon hadn’t so much as lifted a finger.

The events from just moments ago kept replaying in his mind like a broken cassette tape.

Dad was a victim too.

And the culprit still hasn’t even been caught…

Even if it’s just a novel, using my name… that was too much.

He couldn’t help but recall what she had blurted out to hIS sad-faced mother, unable to control his anger.

His head felt heavy and foggy.

Guilt crept in too late.

I didn’t have to say it like that…

The guilt gnawed at him, paralyzing his whole body.

In the suffocating silence, Jungyoon turned his head to the window and stared blankly at the pitch-black sky, not a single cloud in sight.

Whatever the taxi driver was saying was drowned out by the echo of his mother’s voice in his ears.

—It’s just… one of those things.

Like a tiny bit of hope. I know it’s pointless, but still…

His mother’s voice, soaked in sorrow, burst in his mind like water droplets.

His confused gaze, as tangled as his thoughts, reflected clearly on the freshly cleaned window. When his eyes met his reflection, he couldn’t bear to look any longer.

“Sir.”

The intrusive voice of another person shattered the foggy thoughts in his head like a glass bead.

“Huh…? What did you say?”

Jungyoon responded a beat late, meeting the driver’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

Something about his gaze felt odd, prompting a puzzled look from her.

The driver, now with a faint smile, continued speaking.

“That book. I’ve seen it advertised on buses and all over the place lately.”

“Oh… this?”

Jungyoon glanced down at the book lying beside his leg.

The taxi made a wide left turn at the intersection.

Yellow light from other cars swept quickly through the dark car interior.

In the faint glow brushing the book’s cover, the large title gradually came into view, one letter at a time.

The Third Eye.

A national bestseller, “The Third Eye” is a novel about a special investigation team tasked with solving long-unsolved cold cases—cases buried deep in police archives, forgotten by time.

It’s a mystery story that resolves seemingly impossible-to-solve special cases, drawing heavy interest from readers due to its basis in real incidents.

Because it offered a satisfying resolution to frustrating real-life mysteries, The Third Eye became a sensation upon release.

It was featured across various media platforms and rose to immense popularity—eventually even being announced for a film adaptation.

“Well, I haven’t even finished the first chapter yet.”

Jungyoon stared at the cover with somber eyes, trying to swallow the emotion rising in his throat.

The taxi driver, intrigued, asked again,

“…Really? Is there a reason?”

“Not really, it’s just… I only got it today. Haven’t had much time to read.”

I’ll get around to it slowly.

Jungyoon gave an answer he didn’t really believe himself and tore his gaze away from the book.

He had nothing else to say, so she simply gave an awkward smile at the back of the taxi driver’s head.

“I see.”

The conversation ended there.

Jungyoon wasn’t the type to chat with strangers for long anyway, so he was relieved that the exchange was brief.

Besides, he had no desire to talk at length about that book.

He had no intention of ever learning how the story ended.

It was all just part of a hollow dream.

And stories like that only brought back blurry, painful memories—ultimately meaningless, both the memories and the story itself.

—Does it make you uncomfortable that it’s your name?

For me, that name was one of the hopes I had left.

I’m sorry I didn’t ask your permission first.

The more he thought about the book, the more a sense of unease washed over him.

Jung-yoon suppressed the surge of emotion and turned his gaze back out the window.

Of all things, an advertisement for The Third Eye was playing on the outdoor billboard of a tall building.

Jung-yoon couldn’t help but recall the conversation he’d had an hour ago when he received the book.

Choi Geum-young, known as the author of The Third Eye, was Jung-yoon’s biological mother.

And she was also the wife of the victim whose case had been used as a motif in the novel.

Twenty-some years ago, on the day of Jung-yoon’s elementary school entrance ceremony,

Geum-young’s husband—Jung-yoon’s father—was murdered by a serial killer who still hadn’t been caught.

He was called the eighth victim.

That’s what both the police and the media called him.

He had just barely gotten permission to leave work at the factory and was rushing to the school.

Unfortunately, he ended up taking a taxi that the murderer had hijacked—and was killed.

That one incident had uprooted Jung-yoon’s entire life.

He had only been eight years old.

After that, his mother fell apart.

Immersed in alcohol and self-destruction, he ultimately escaped his personal hell by abandoning Jung-yoon.

Just two years after losing his father to a stranger, Jung-yoon ended up in his grandmother’s care.

—Mom was just… in so much pain back then.

It wasn’t that I wanted to abandon you.

I was just… chasing the police all the time.

I had to earn money too…

Honestly, it hurts too much just to look at you.

—Jung-yoon, you…

You look so much like your father.

Jung-yoon didn’t not understand his mother’s desire to create a villain—even if by writing.

But that didn’t mean he thought this method was right.

No explanation could change that belief.

The past he tried not to revisit remained painful even in the present.

That was exactly why he didn’t want to know how the book ended.

It would only prove that nothing had changed.

If he hadn’t met Jeong-rok, he would probably still be walking alone through a dark tunnel.

—You have me, don’t you?

Am I not enough?

She suddenly remembered Jeong-rok’s sweet and spontaneous confession.

Just thinking of him helped settle his anxious heart.

As Jung-yoon broke away from the thoughts that had been stirring up his gloomy past and leaned back fully against the seat, the car suddenly picked up speed and his entire body shook from the motion.

Startled, he gripped the edge of the passenger seat and looked forward.

As if noticing her movement, the driver stepped on the gas the moment the traffic light changed.

The once-familiar scenery began to morph into something unfamiliar.

It was only then that a chill ran sharply down Jung-yoon’s spine.

“Um… excuse me, driver, this direction is…”

“It’s the third one.”

Startled, Jung-yoon held his breath.

The voice that spoke the abrupt sentence was chilling—completely different from before.

Slowly pressing her back against the seat to put more distance between himself and the driver’s seat, Jung-yoon carefully opened her mouth.

“…Excuse me?”

“The killer.”

The taxi driver, who had been staring straight ahead the whole time, turned his head toward the back seat.

His skin, visible only for a moment, was deathly pale.

His body, tense with fear, wouldn’t budge.

The only thing that moved was his throat as he swallowed.

“That book.”

The driver acted as if he hadn’t heard what Jung-yoon said.

Following his voice, her gaze was naturally drawn to the book.

“The man who was interviewed third turned out to be the killer.”

“Ah… I see. But sir, the direction you’re going now…”

Even while leaning back against the seat, she couldn’t relax.

He tried to respond as naturally as possible while carefully observing the driver’s increasingly verbose behavior.

It was when not a single other car could be seen passing by, aside from the one they were in, that Jung-yoon felt a surge of danger and quickly moved his fingers.

He was trying to call her boyfriend, Jeong-rok, who should have been waiting for her.

Anxiously shielding the phone screen with his palm, he stared at it.

But Jeong-rok didn’t answer.

Jung-yoon bit his lip hard.

It was rare for Jeong-rok to miss his calls—why now, of all times?

That thought consumed him.

Without taking his eyes off the driver, he quickly opened her messages and typed on the keypad.

“Oppa, where are you? Please call me.”

He sent the message and tried calling again, but once again, there was no answer from Jeong-rok.

His anxiety only deepened.

Just as the world seemed to tilt from dizziness, his eyes met the taxi driver’s in the rearview mirror.

He was smiling.

And then, subtly, his gaze lowered to somewhere below her.

His eye movement hadn’t even been slow, but she caught it all.

“Seems like your boyfriend isn’t picking up, huh?”

Jung-yoon’s pupils began to tremble violently at his words.

Sure, he might have heard the call ringing—but how did he know it was his boyfriend?

As horrific scenarios flooded his mind, he heard a click as the car doors locked upon entering a dirt road.

In a panic, Jung-yoon summoned every ounce of strength to keep his composure.

He tried to think through what the taxi driver was saying.

“Try again. Maybe he’ll pick up this time?”

That was when true fear set in.

Something was wrong.

The driver’s casual, almost leisurely attitude—as if he’d predicted his every move—set off his instincts like alarm bells.

“Hmm… Or were you planning to just wait for him to call you back?”

“…What do you mean?”

“Your boyfriend. You’ve been trying to call him this whole time, haven’t you?”