"Miss, miss... wake up, wake up, miss."
The voice grew clearer, and she slowly opened her eyes.
"Miss, you've reached your destination," the old man said with a gentle smile.
"Oh—thank you, sir," the young woman replied, glancing out the window. She had indeed arrived.
The rain was still falling, heavy and relentless. With a sigh, she gathered her belongings, took out her umbrella, and bowed politely to the old man before stepping off the bus.
The dream lingered in her chest like a shadow—unsettling, as if she were forgetting something important.
"Miss..." the old man called out just as she was about to descend the steps.
"Yes?"
"Thank you for always guarding our city. Knowing you're here for us helps me sleep peacefully at night," he said, his voice full of warmth.
"It's my pleasure to protect you, sir," Yu Bin answered, smiling softly. She bowed once more and stepped into the rain.
But the dream stayed with her.
"Resentment is born of inflicted pain. Love can turn into hatred, and hatred can be melted by love," she had said in the dream.
But how?
"Always remember: what you believe is white may be black to someone else, and what looks black to you may be white in another's eyes."
Those words haunted her now.
She couldn't shake the images from her sleep. This wasn't the first time she'd had that dream. In childhood, she'd seen the same figure many nights. Not always the same scenario, but the same presence. Her parents, worried, had even taken her to a psychologist. Over time, the dreams had faded—until now.
And now, they returned… disturbing and urgent.
Was I thinking about the case before I fell asleep?
She said not everything white is white—but what does that mean?
She shifted to her thoughts on the current case.
The victim died on the stairs. His skull was crushed at the base of the neck. Could he have fallen and hit his head?
But then—his wife confessed to killing him. Yet she seems so fragile. Could she really have pushed such a large man?
Why would she lie if it wasn't her fault? Unless… she's protecting someone. Their son, perhaps? But he hasn't lived with them for months.
Maybe she's covering for someone she loves. The truth might be more complicated than it looks. Things aren't always black and white.
Master... where are you when I need you most? Please...
No. These are just dreams. The case is real. I must do my job.
I can't let an innocent person take the blame. I'll dig deeper—question witnesses, collect evidence. I'll uncover the truth. I may not have a master, but I have my own skills. And I won't stop until justice is done.
TWO DAYS LATER
"Mr. Moon, did you find anything? Did you question the victim's son?"
"Yes, ma'am. It seems the boy went home that day and stayed only fifteen minutes before leaving."
Yu Bin's eyes lit up.
"Then we have a witness? That's promising. He saw what happened?"
"Not exactly. But I did find something else. There was a car—crashed, parked at the scene. I noticed it both that day and the next, so I traced the owner. Lucky for us, the car had a dashcam. It recorded the entire incident. We now have footage of someone fleeing the scene."
Her expression sharpened with purpose.
"Excellent work. That video could change everything."
"I'll gather the footage and prepare it for court. With this, we may finally get justice."
"Good. Also, tell Xian Chen I want to see him."
"Understood, boss."
Yu Bin leaned back in her chair, deep in thought.
So the son was there. Two possibilities: the husband hurt the boy and the mother retaliated—or the father hurt the mother, and the son struck back...
Knock knock.
A sharp knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.
"Come in," she called, scanning documents as the door creaked open.
"You called for me, boss?" a cheerful voice rang out.
"Ah, Xian Chen. I haven't seen you all day. Were you interviewing the neighbors like I asked?"
"Yes, boss," he said, bouncing with energy—always full of life.
"Odd thing is, no one liked the victim. Literally no one. Everyone I spoke to—elders, couples, even kids—liked the wife, even if she's the supposed killer."
He paused, eyes thoughtful.
"They all say the man was a drunk, often violent. He used to beat his wife and son. After a big fight, the boy left home a few months back. The abuse didn't stop. So honestly... maybe the wife did kill him. And if she did—maybe she had a reason. If that's true, I agree with her."
"Xian Chen," Yu Bin snapped. "You're a police officer. Don't say such things."
"Sorry, boss. But... how can someone hurt their family like that and still call themselves a man? Just because he was stronger? That's not justice."
"I agree—no one has the right to harm others. Domestic abuse is never okay. But that doesn't justify murder. We have laws for a reason. We're here to uncover truth, not choose sides. And anyway… something feels off. The man wasn't even supposed to be home that day. So how could she have planned to kill him?"
She turned away, muttering to herself.
So the son comes home. The father hits him. The mother, enraged, pushes the husband down the stairs? But the son isn't a child anymore. He could defend himself… unless…
Resentment is born of inflicted pain...
"That's it!" Yu Bin suddenly shouted, leaping to her feet.
Xian Chen flinched.
"Whoa! What happened?"
"Think!" she paced the room. "The son comes to visit, thinking his father is away. But the father's home. He sees his mother's injuries. Rage boils. He pushes the man—accidentally or not. That's the moment. That's what happened!"
"Boss… we need evidence. You can't just build a case on theory," Xian Chen warned.
Despite his youth, he was often the voice of reason.
Yu Bin paused, then nodded.
"You're right. We'll make the son talk. Between the video and the neighbors' testimonies, we have something to work with."
Just then, Mr. Moon entered.
"You'll also need to convince the mother," he said seriously. "If she doesn't change her statement, it won't matter what the boy says. Right now, she's protecting him, and without hard proof, we've got nothing."
Yu Bin sighed.
"You're right again. Then it's settled. I'll speak to the son. You two—go talk to the mother. We need to get the truth."
She grabbed her phone, gave one last look at the documents on her desk, and rushed out into the rain.