The rain didn't stop. It seemed to have been falling for an eternity, and the city under its heavy breath felt alien. The asphalt gleamed, reflecting signs and spotlights as if new streets leading to nowhere were opening up in the puddles.
Do-yun walked quickly, barely looking around. Inside, a strange mix of cold and heat lived. Cold—from the piercing dampness, the clammy wind, the persistent feeling that he wasn't alone. Heat—from a heart beating too fast.
He knew he was being followed. He'd caught a glimpse of movement in the crowd near the club, and later, a reflection in a deserted storefront window. But instead of looking back, he quickened his pace.
And then the street answered for him.
A black sedan smoothly pulled out from around the corner and stopped at the curb. Not a sound from the engine, as if the car had grown out of the shadows. The window lowered.
"Get in."
The voice was calm, without command or threat. But it was the kind of voice from which there was no escape.
Do-yun hesitated for only a moment. Then he stepped toward the car and got in.
The interior smelled of leather and a light, barely noticeable tobacco. The warmth here felt different—not as comfort, but as a thick silence that immediately cut off all the city noises.
Seung-ho sat, relaxed against the seat back, but his gaze was sharp, unwavering. He wasn't just looking; he was penetrating.
"You're digging deeper than you should," he said as if in passing, as if stating the weather.
Do-yun gripped the strap of his bag. There was nothing he could say.
Seung-ho smirked, his gaze never leaving him: "Do you really think I don't know who you are?"
The pause was long. Then he said: "Detective Park."
The words fell lightly, almost lazily. But they held venom—and mockery.
Do-yun's chest tightened, but his face remained impassive. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said evenly.
Seung-ho laughed quietly, almost affectionately. "That's what I like about you. No tremor in your voice, not a single extra word. A perfect mask. Only your eyes give you away."
He leaned in closer, so only a few inches separated them. "You know, Detective, I've met many people. But few can be so convincingly silent."
Do-yun turned to the window, feeling his palms grow damp. "What do you want from me?"
"From you?" Seung-ho shrugged. "Nothing, for now. But you've gotten too close to doors that are better not opened alone."
The office on the top floor of the skyscraper greeted them with cold air. The huge windows opened up Seoul in all its fullness: shining, alive, and pulsing. But the air here was thick, like before a storm.
Seung-ho walked forward and leaned against the edge of the desk. His silhouette seemed a part of this panorama: tall, confident, as if he owned not only the building but the city below it.
"Everyone looks for simple answers," he said, gazing at the lights below. "But there are no simple ones."
"I'm looking for the truth," Do-yun replied sharply.
Seung-ho turned, a smile once again on his lips. "And who isn't?"
He came closer, his steps echoing loudly. "But the truth rarely comes from the outside. More often, it sits right next to you. Too close."
"How close?" Do-yun's voice trembled almost imperceptibly.
Seung-ho's eyes gleamed. "So close that you have to doubt everyone. Your friends. Those who offer you a hand. Even your own people."
He spoke calmly, but there was something more in his words—not a threat, but a warning. Do-yun looked at him and suddenly felt that this wasn't just a game. Seung-ho had his own truth, too.
"You mean…" he began, but stopped without finishing.
Seung-ho smirked. "I don't mean anything. But think about this: why do I know your every step before you even take it?"
He moved closer again, and a shadow fell across Do-yun's face. "So, Park… are we enemies or partners?"
The city below lived its own life, and here, in the silence, a choice was being made that would decide everything.
But before Do-yun could answer, a phone rang and quick footsteps sounded in the corridor. One of Seung-ho's men looked into the room, pale and tense: "Sir… we have a problem at the warehouse. Someone got inside."
For a second, their gazes met—Seung-ho and Do-yun. The alpha smirked.
"See? Even answers don't like to wait."
And he turned toward the door, as if inviting him to come along.