The Chief glared so hard it felt like knives in Kim's face. His voice ripped out.
"Check again! Every corner, every inch! If I don't see chains in evidence, you'll wish you never wore that uniform!"
Kim bent so low his cap almost fell. "Y-yes, Chief! Right away!" He stumbled off, his legs almost tripping over each other, shouting at the rookies.
Inside, Kim groaned. Why me… Always me. Only my name, every time. Can't he yell at Park or Lee just once?
Choi didn't bother with Chief anymore. His eyes moved to the man crouched by the bodies.
The man in white gloves and a mask crouched low, a small kit open beside him.
He scraped under the nails of the body, slow and careful, letting the bits fall into a tiny vial.
Choi stepped closer. "Doctor. Time of death?"
The examiner didn't answer right away. He sealed the vial first, set it in his case, then spoke, his voice muffled behind the mask.
"From the stiffness… and the body temp… maybe midnight to two in the morning. Too early to be exact. I'll confirm after autopsy."
The examiner pushed his glasses up, eyes narrowing at the wrists.
"There are marks… chains, most likely. But chains only hold. They don't twist bodies like this. It doesn't add up…"
His voice faded, unsure.
The Chief scowled. "Then tied to a wall? A pole? Anything here could've been used—"
"No." Choi cut in. His voice was calm, but it shut everyone up.
He crouched by the nearest body, his coat brushing the dirt. His pen hovered just above the skin, not touching.
"Look at the bruises. Straight down. Pressed deep."
"Not angled. Not pulled. If they were tied to a wall or post, the marks would be uneven. But these? Same all over. Even. Like the force came from every side at once."
The Chief blinked, his frown heavy. "What the hell are you saying?"
Choi's eyes stayed low on the ground. Cold. Sharp.
"I'm saying they were pinned. Not to a wall. Not to a pole. Pinned to the ground itself."
The officers shifted on their feet, uneasy. One muttered low, "The ground? That's… that's not possible…"
Choi didn't answer. He wrote in his notebook instead, the pen scratching softly on the page.
Meanwhile—
Hyun Woo woke up late. His eyes blinked slowly, heavily. He yawned, stretched his arms high, and his back popped as he sat up.
For a second it felt normal. Just another morning.
Then his eyes caught the clock.
"Shit, I'm late…"
He jumped up, rushed to the bathroom, and splashed cold water on his face. It ran down his chin fast. He scrubbed his teeth quickly, his shirt slipping off his shoulder.
Back in his room, he yanked on his uniform, buttons wrong at first, then fixed them with clumsy fingers. He pulled on socks while hopping on one leg, almost falling. His hair was still wet when he grabbed his bag and ran for the stairs.
He didn't even have the time to eat breakfast.
The door slammed shut behind him as he rushed out. Only one thing in his head—school.
Hyun Woo ran down the street, bag bouncing on his shoulder. His hair was still damp, strands sticking to his forehead. He kept looking on his phone for the time, muttering curses under his breath.
Then his steps slowed.
Up ahead the road was blocked. Yellow tape stretched across the old construction site. Police cars lined the side, red and blue lights flashing again and again.
Hyun Woo saw lots of people gathered near the construction site. They were whispering, pointing, and holding up phones to take pictures. Reporters shouted into mics, cameras flashing without pause.
Hyun Woo stopped. His breath caught in his throat.
It was the same place.
The same spot where last night… Kang Jin-ho and his friends had died.
He pushed into the crowd, his hand pressing strangers aside until he reached the front, right at the yellow tape.
He saw everything now. Police cars. Reporters yelling into their mics. Camera flashes going off again and again. Uniforms moving in and out like ants. Even the Chief was there, face red, barking orders.
Hyun Woo stood still.
He remembered last night. The chains. The cries. The twisted bodies. He knew what this was. The aftermath of his verdict.
But he wasn't scared. His heart didn't race. His hands didn't shake. He was watching the scene calmly, like watching someone else's story.
He clenched his teeth, and anger started bubbling in him.
Not because of last night… but because of what he was seeing now.
So many police. Reporters pushing for the best shot. Detectives running around. All this noise, all this attention — only because the dead boy was Kang Jin-ho, the son of Kang Dae-hun.
The scene in front of him made him remember his own family's funeral.
He sat alone in the small hall, his black suit hanging too big on his thin body. His hands pressed tight in his lap.
There wasn't even a single police officer who came for his father's funeral.
Only a few neighbours came, and some distant relatives. They bowed quickly, said a word or two, then left.
He overheard whispers as they walked away.
"Sad, but… they weren't important."
"Who even remembers his father? Just another dead cop."
There were no reporters, no cameras. Not even a single headline on the front page. Just a tiny note in the back, like his family didn't matter at all.
Hyun Woo's nails dug into his palms. His teeth clenched until his jaw hurt.
His chest burnt hot, rising like fire. His breath came sharp. A volcano inside him, ready to blow.
His mind screamed.
This cursed world…
Fucking hypocrites.
When my family died, no one came. Not one uniform.
Not one word of respect for my father, who gave his life for the country.
They buried our story in the back, like trash. But here? For him? The whole police force bows down?
His eyes narrowed, staring past the yellow tape.
The world doesn't care about right or wrong. It only bends down to power. Too much money. To family names.
His fist shook at his side.
Pathetic…
Disgusting…
But then another thought came into his head.
What if I get caught? What if they find out it was me?
His heart jumped once, hard, then it slowed down again. His head started working on its own.
He saw things he never cared about before — the cameras, the cops writing notes, the way Choi's eyes searched the ground.
His own brain was telling him where to look and what was dangerous.
He stopped cold.
Wait… how do I even know this?
Then he heard the cold, heavy voice of the System inside his head.
[You carry the Will of Themisar now.]
[It is not only power. It is knowledge.]
[Your mind, your body — both reshaped to bear judgement.]
His mind went back to last night. The night of the verdict.
The scenes played again, clear in his head, like someone pressed rewind and play, again and again.
The bottle. Kang Jin-ho forcing it into his mouth. The burn of alcohol down his throat. His lips on the glass, his spit mixing inside.
Then the kicks. Boots hitting him, his body rolling on the dirt. He coughed hard, blood flying out, dark on the ground.
A curse slipped out before he even thought about it.
Fuck.
The bottle and his blood.
Two things left behind. Two things that could drag him down if they found them.
He smacked his palm to his forehead. "Fuck."
The bottle, the blood — they filled his head. He thought about how he could take them back.
But now? Too many cops. Too many eyes. No chance to go near the bottle or the blood.
He needed another way. A better way.
So he just kept looking and observing the small things, and to his own surprise, everything was so clear – every face, every move – like he could remember it all in detail.
Who picked what, who sealed the bag, and who stood where? It all stayed in his mind, like he could still see it even if he closed his eyes.
After stuffing all the details in his head, Hyun Woo stepped back.
He was already late, and if some cop stopped him, seeing him in the same school uniform as the dead kids, it would be real trouble.
So he decided it's better to move quickly while not drawing any attention towards him.
He turned away, pulled his bag strap tight, and walked quickly toward school.