EPISODE 64 – Whispers of the Past
The CHIPER team plunged into the cold case, each member dissecting their assigned tasks with grim determination. The HQ hummed with the focused energy of a well-oiled machine, yet a subtle tension lingered between Minjae and Micha, an unspoken echo of the alleyway.
Alex was buried deep in data, his fingers flying across multiple holographic screens. He mapped the victims' residences, overlaying city demographics, traffic patterns, and even local social media activity from the time of the murders. He cross-referenced the unique "calling card" item found at each scene – a misplaced earring, a specific hair clip – against online marketplaces and manufacturing records, trying to trace their origin. "It's like looking for a ghost in a haystack," he muttered, zooming into a microchip in a discarded smart home device. "He leaves just enough to hint at his presence, but not enough to be found."
Dohee, meanwhile, was a whirlwind of legal and personal records. She dove into the backgrounds of the victims' husbands, dissecting every alibi, every financial transaction, every digital footprint. "Even the 'iron-clad' ones can have cracks," she murmured, comparing credit card statements to GPS data. "No one is truly invisible online anymore, especially if you're trying to hide something." She found a seemingly innocuous pattern: three of the husbands had recently hired the same small, obscure "personal consulting" firm, just weeks before their wives' deaths.
Guen, back in her lab, meticulously re-examined every scrap of forensic data. She focused on the tiny, almost invisible ligature marks, using advanced imaging to create 3D models of the pressure points. She also ran new tests on the trace sedative Micha had identified. "It's a specific blend," she reported to Kevin over the comms. "Not just a common sleep aid. Someone would need access to specialized, maybe even custom, pharmaceuticals." She also noted a single, minute fiber, not native to any of the scenes, found on two victims – so tiny it had been dismissed as contamination.
Minjae, working remotely from a secure, undisclosed location, was in his element, but with a controlled fury. He leveraged his underworld connections, not for muscle, but for information. He dug into underground forums, dark web communities, and obscure social circles that harbored extremist views on marriage, gender roles, or "societal cleansing." He found a chilling manifesto, posted years ago under an anonymous handle, detailing a warped ideology of punishing "corrupt" institutions, with marriage heavily featured. The rhetoric was frighteningly similar to ZEROFACE's, but the focus was different, more personal.
Micha, despite her lingering fear of Minjae, couldn't suppress her brilliance. Locked in her own analytical bubble, she built a meticulous psychological profile. Based on the subtle sedative, the precise violence, the "calling card," and the choice of married women, she theorized a highly intelligent, narcissistic, and deeply resentful individual. "He's not just killing," she told Kevin in a separate video call, "he's enacting a twisted form of justice. He likely feels betrayed by the institution of marriage, possibly due to a personal experience. He wants to expose its 'hypocrisy' by shattering ideal lives. He craves control and validation through these acts, not just the act itself."
Unspoken Tensions:
The elephant in the room was their Minjae-Micha dynamic. Micha flinched whenever Minjae's name came up in conversation, and physically recoiled if he entered the same room. Minjae, on the other hand, carried an air of cold indifference, occasionally shooting her a sharp, almost warning glance when he thought no one was looking. He seemed to relish the power he held over her, even as a part of him perhaps regretted the terror he'd instilled.
During a brief, tense break, Alex tried to bridge the gap. "Micha, you okay? You seem a little... jumpy around Minjae."
Micha just mumbled, "Fine," clutching her scarf tighter.
Minjae, passing by, paused. "Some people just can't handle a little excitement," he said, his voice laced with a subtle threat, before continuing on.
Micha glared at his retreating back, a flicker of defiance mixing with her fear. She knew he meant it. She was trapped between her terror and her loyalty to the team. I should tell Guen, she thought, her mind racing. But what if he... he's really dangerous. And he knows I'm clumsy. What if he touches me again? I can't. But I have to. The thought of his hand on her, even pushing her, made her skin crawl. It was her deepest weakness, this aversion to unexpected physical contact, and now he had used it against her. The fear was consuming.
A Different Kind of Encounter
Kevin, finding Guen alone in the breakroom, found himself staring at his reflection in the polished surface of the coffee machine. He saw his own flushed cheeks, and a memory flickered – the accidental brush of lips on the sofa. He glanced at Guen, who was pretending to be deeply engrossed in a half-empty mug. Their eyes met for a fleeting second, and the same embarrassed flush rose on her cheeks.
Guen cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Look, about yesterday... the t-shirt, and then... it was just an accident, right? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pulled you."
Kevin pushed off the counter, taking a step closer. His earlier bad-boy smirk was gone, replaced by a softer, more direct gaze. He took another step, closing the distance between them until he was standing right in front of her. Guen's breath hitched, her eyes wide. He reached out, gently cupping her face, his thumb tracing the line of her cheekbone.
"Maybe the first one was an accident," he murmured, his voice low and steady. Then, he leaned in, slowly, deliberately, and kissed her.
It wasn't a brush, but a soft, lingering press of lips that deepened with quiet intent. Guen's eyes fluttered shut, her mind a blank slate of shock and burgeoning sensation. After a few breathtaking seconds, Kevin pulled back, his eyes searching hers.
"But this time," he said, his voice a low rumble, a faint smile playing on his lips, "this time it wasn't."
He released her face, stepping back, and then, without another word, turned and walked out of the breakroom, leaving Guen standing there, stunned. Her fingers went to her lips, tracing the lingering warmth. Not an accident... The words echoed in her mind, a thrilling, terrifying, utterly confusing refrain.
The New Lead :
As the day wore on, the fragmented pieces began to form a disturbing picture. Dohee's discovery of the "personal consulting" firm connected to three victims' husbands, combined with Minjae's research into the online manifesto, hinted at a deeper, more insidious network. Guen's unique fiber and Micha's detailed profile suggested a killer with specific access and a very personal, distorted agenda.
Suddenly, Alex's voice cut through the comms. "Guys, I think I found something on that consulting firm. Their CEO... he gave a public lecture two years ago on 'The Truth of Marital Harmony and its Modern Decay.' And the anonymous manifesto Minjae found? It quotes him extensively. The fiber Guen found... it's a rare synthetic, used in high-end, bespoke suits. The CEO of that consulting firm, according to his online profile, is a renowned fashion enthusiast, known for his custom tailoring."
Kevin's eyes narrowed. "Get me everything on this CEO. His name."
"Shin Hyo-jin," Alex replied, typing furiously. "And he's married."
Shin Hyo-jin's connection to the killer's ideology is chillingly direct: he's not just a sympathizer; he's a potential ideological architect, and quite possibly, the killer himself. The team now has a solid target. Their next steps will involve surveilling Shin Hyo-jin, looking for patterns that match the killer's M.O., and finding a way to link him definitively to the victims without tipping him off.
What dangerous secrets does Shin Hyo-jin hide behind his façade of respectability? And how will Micha's internal struggle with Minjae impact her ability to function within the team, especially as the stakes rise even higher?