The officers at the line pushed the reporters back, some even using their arms to knock the mics away.
Reporters kept shouting questions, their voices crashing into each other, but the yellow tape still held them back.
A man in uniform stepped over the tape, his head lowered slightly as he crossed inside. His polished shoes pressed down on the dirt.
Every officer inside straightened and gave a quick bow. "Chief!"
He gave them one short nod, his face stiff, and walked forward.
He stopped near the bodies. White blankets covered them, but dark blood patches had already spread through the cloth.
He lifted his hand a little. One officer saw it, bent down, and pulled the blanket off Kang's body.
The Chief's hand rose and covered his mouth. His eyes went wide.
It was him. Kang Jin-ho. The son of Kang Dae-hyun, vice president of Kang Electronics.
His face was ruined. The tongue hung out from his half-open mouth. His eyes looked strange, forced wide, one almost pulled out of its socket.
His stomach was caved in, twisted like someone had grabbed it and wrung it hard, like wringing a towel.
His arms and legs bent in the wrong directions, the joints broken, all crooked — the elbows sticking the wrong way, the knees bent outward where they shouldn't bend.
For a moment he forgot how to breathe. He forgot the reporters outside, forgot the flashing cameras. Fear showed clearly on his face.
His hand stayed over his mouth, his eyes still wide, his chest heavy like a weight sat on it.
Kang Jin-ho. The son of Kang Dae-hyun.
Kang Dae-hyun — vice president of Kang Electronics. One of the biggest companies in the country. A man with money and power has reach everywhere.
And now his son was here, twisted and ruined, dead in the dirt.
The chief's throat dried up. His hands shook a little as he lowered them.
If Kang Dae-hyun saw his son like this… if the news got to him first… The police force would be crushed. Careers cut. Heads rolling. Maybe even his.
He didn't breathe for a while. He couldn't see the faces right. They looked all blurry to him, like they were shaking in front of his eyes.
All he could see was the broken body. And one name that pounded in his head.
Kang Dae-hyun's son.
The chief's eyes swept the site, then his voice cracked out loud.
"Where's the forensic team? Where's NFS? Why aren't they here yet?!"
Patrolman Kim stiffened. "S-sir… They said they're on the way. Running late…"
The chief's face twisted, spit flying with his words.
"Late? Four boys dead, one of them Kang Jin-ho, and the forensic team is late?" His shout blasted through the half-built walls, the echo bouncing back like another voice screaming with him.
The officers froze. Some bowed their heads, some stood stiff, holding their breath.
The Chief slammed his fist on a steel pillar. The clang hit sharp and loud, ringing across the hollow site, making every officer jump.
"If NFS isn't here in ten minutes, I'll drag them down myself! Do they think this is some street fight? This is Kang Dae-hyun's son lying here in the dirt!"
The Chief's shout was still ringing when fast steps came from outside the tape.
"Make way! Forensics coming through!"
A group of men and women came in quick, white suits covering them from head to toe.
Gloves tight on their hands, masks on their faces, and shoe covers crunching on the dirt as they walked. Each held a black case or camera, holding it in their hands.
They ducked under the yellow tape one by one and spread inside.
One opened a case and pulled out small numbered flags, sticking them down near blood spots on the ground.
Another knelt with a camera, taking shots from every side, the flash bouncing off the half-built walls.
Two more moved to the bodies, lifting the sheets slowly, writing down every wound they saw.
The Chief's glare followed the white suits. His voice tore through the air.
"You're late! Do you even know where you are right now? Four boys dead, one of them Kang Jin-ho! Not one thing leaves this site! Not a hair, not a speck, understood?!"
The leader of the forensic team gave a hurried bow. "Y-yes, Chief! Right away!" He waved his people forward fast.
The white suits spread out quickly. One crouched near broken glass, picking each shard with tweezers and dropping it into clear bags.
Another grabbed empty liquor bottles, sealed them tight, and scribbled labels with a pen.
Cigarette butts lay on the dirt. Gloved hands picked them up one by one, dropping them into pouches with a sharp zip.
By the steel pillars, two men brushed the metal with black powder, bending close, trying to see prints.
The NFS leader stood in the middle, eyes sharp behind his mask. He raised his hand, voice sharp.
"Faster! Every corner! Don't miss a single spot!"
The Chief turned his head, looking over the officers, and then his eyes stopped on Kim.
"You! Kim!"
Patrolman Kim jumped like he got kicked. His hand flew down in a half-bow. "Y-yes, Chief!"
The Chief's voice roared.
"Where is Detective Choi? Homicide should already be here! Where is he?!"
Kim swallowed, his throat moving up and down. "S-sir… I-I think he's on the way. Maybe traffic… or paperwork…"
Inside, Kim cursed. 'Why me? Always me. Out of twenty officers, he only shouts at me. Every time it's Kim, Kim, Kim. One day I'll drop dead before a criminal even shoots me…'
His knees almost knocked together. He bent lower. "I-I'll call again, Chief!"
The chief's mouth twisted. He muttered, voice low but sharp.
"That damn Choi… always late, always acting like he owns the case…"
Kim grabbed his phone, but his sweaty fingers slipped on the screen.
He cursed under his breath and tried again, hands shaking.
He was just about to dial when the sound of an engine came from behind the crowd.
Reporters turned first. A black sedan rolled up slowly and stopped right outside the yellow tape.
"Detective Choi! Detective Choi, over here!"
"Detective Choi Do-hyun just arrived!"
"Detective Choi! Is it gang violence?!"
"Detective Choi! Look this way!"
"Sir! Sir, is it true? Is it school violence?!"
Their voices crashed into each other, everyone shouting at once, each one louder than the next. Mics stabbed forward like spears, cameras flashing nonstop, white bursts cutting into the morning light.
The car door opened.
The car door opened and Detective Choi stepped out. The crowd surged forward at once, voices crashing together.
"Detective Choi! Over here!"
"Detective Choi Do-hyun! Look this way!"
"Detective Choi! Is it true about Kang Jin-ho?!"
One voice cut sharper than the rest.
"Detective Choi! Look here!"
Han Se-yeon, field correspondent for JTBC News. She was the type who shouted questions at cops on camera, then pulled all-nighters digging through case files. People in the newsroom called her "Bulldog "Han"—once she bit into a case, she never let go.
Han Soo-jin from SNTV shoved her mic forward, her cameraman right behind her, the red light on the camera blinking — live.
"You've never left a case unsolved! Can you promise the same here? Will Kang Jin-ho's killers be caught today?!"
"Is Kang Jin-ho's death just school violence, or something bigger?!"
Choi's eyes flicked her way for half a second. Cold. Empty. He gave no comment and pushed forward.
Two officers moved fast, forcing the crowd back, their arms out, making a narrow path. Choi walked through them, crossing under the tape and into the crime scene.
Han Soo-jin turned back to the camera, her voice sharp, her lips curling in a confident smile.
"There you have it. Detective Choi Do-hyun, the man with no unsolved cases, is now here on the Kang murder. If he's here, this case is bigger than anyone thought."
The cameraman zoomed in, catching the yellow tape and the police moving behind it.
Han Soo-jin lifted the mic close. "This is Han Soo-jin, SNTV, reporting live from the construction site."
Han Soo-jin wasn't just another pretty face on TV.
Sure, she stood in front of cameras, shouting sharp questions that made cops squirm. But off-screen, she dug deeper — files, old cases, court records.
Some called her nosy; others called her reckless. In the newsroom, they called her "Bulldog Han". Once she bit into a story, she never let go.
The forensics worked quickly, snapping photos and bagging evidence. The Chief stood stiff, his jaw still tight with anger.
Then a calm voice came.
"Chief."
Detective Choi Do-hyun stepped closer. His cold eyes went over the bodies. Not one — all four.
"They're the same," he said flatly. "Every one of them."
The Chief frowned. "What do you mean?"
Choi crouched by the nearest body. He didn't touch; he just pointed with his pen.
"Eyes forced wide. Tongue out. Blood from ears, blood from nose."
He moved the pen to the shoulders, then the legs.
"Look here. Shoulders bent back the wrong way. Legs twisted out where they shouldn't bend. Same for all of them."
He stood again, gaze sweeping across the bodies. His voice was steady, almost too steady.
"This wasn't a fight. Not gang violence. It's a pattern. Someone wanted them to die the same way."
Officers shifted, uneasy. The Chief's jaw clenched harder.
Choi crouched again, sharper now. His pen pointed at a wrist.
"…Chains."
The chief bent down. "Chains?"
Choi showed him the faint dark lines around wrists and ankles, pressed deep into the skin. Same on all four.
"They weren't just beaten. They were held down. Restrained. These marks… iron chains, maybe. Whoever did this wanted them trapped while it happened."
The Chief stood up a little, his face stiff. He moved his head and looked toward the nearest officer.
"Kim!"
Patrolman Kim flinched, almost dropping his notepad. "Y-yes, Chief!"
"Did you find any chains? Anywhere? On the ground? Around this site?!"
Kim's words broke up, coming out shaky, his eyes darting fast like he might see one suddenly appear. "N-no, Chief! No chain so far… m-maybe the forensic team—"