The television mounted in the corner of the open office buzzed with low voices and flashing headlines.
"Another murder rocks the city. Police warn residents to remain alert…" the anchor's voice trailed under the hum of keyboards and casual chatter.
"Third one this month," whispered a woman from accounting, leaning toward her friend.
"They're saying the killer targets both men and women now. That's… unusual, right?"
Her friend shuddered. "Serial killers are never usual."
Kim Nam Shin stepped into the office, clutching a paper cup of coffee like it was a fragile shield. The cold February air still clung to her cheeks, tinting them pink. Her heels clicked softly on the polished floor as she passed by her colleagues.
Some nodded politely. Others didn't bother looking up.
"Nam Shin-ssi, you're late again," one of the senior managers remarked without turning away from his monitor.
"It's eight forty-five, sir," she replied quietly. "Our shift starts at nine."
"Still late for someone aiming to impress," he said with a smirk. A few nearby staff snickered.
She lowered her gaze, pressing her lips together. Being soft-spoken and pretty had never worked in her favor here. It just made her an easy target for casual cruelty.
"Nam Shin-ssi."
She turned toward the warm, steady voice. Mr. Woo stood near the window, a tall man in his mid-thirties with kind eyes behind thin glasses. He was the department head, yet somehow always made time to notice small things others ignored.
"You've got a coffee stain," he said, pointing to the sleeve of her blouse. "Here—" He handed her a tissue from his desk.
"Oh—thank you," she said, embarrassed.
"Don't mind them," he added quietly, glancing toward the senior manager who had mocked her. "Some people talk just to fill the air."
She allowed herself the smallest smile before retreating to her desk.
The morning went by in a blur of emails, client calls, and half-finished reports. The tension from the TV news seemed to cling to the office. Conversations were quieter, glances toward the windows more frequent.
At lunch, a group of employees gathered in the break room.
"I heard the last victim lived only two streets away from here," someone said between bites of kimbap.
"No way."
"I'm telling you—my cousin's in the police. He said the killer… leaves something behind."
"What?"
"A silver hairpin. Every single time."
Kim Nam Shin listened silently from the vending machine, her hands tightening around a can of coffee.
Days went by after that incident, people were in little relief because the cops were doing there best to the catch the culprit and there were no news of another incident in days.
Kim Nam Shin was working on some files she was given by her coworkers.
One of them snorted" heh, what a pushover" other one laughed along.
She here it but didn't responded and kept doing her work. Later that day.
Everyone left after work as nothing unusual.
The next day,
Rain lashed against the tall glass windows one Thursday afternoon. The office was unusually quiet when an HR staff member burst in, pale-faced and trembling.
"Did you hear? Yoon Mi-seo from the design department—she's dead."
Chairs scraped the floor. Gasps and murmurs rose instantly.
"What do you mean dead?"
"They found her in her apartment this morning. It's… it's the same killer."
Nam Shin's stomach twisted. Mi-seo had been someone she often exchanged small smiles with in the elevator. The thought of her lying cold and lifeless in her apartment was… unreal.
Mr. Woo's gaze swept the room, settling briefly on Nam Shin. "Everyone, please… stay calm. We'll get through this together." But there was a shadow in his expression—something unspoken.
Outside, the rain kept falling, as if the city itself was trying to wash away the blood.