[Hello there, Detective Seo Rihan.]
Rihan stared at the message blankly, taking a large bite of his donut without a flicker of emotion.
The number was unknown, but he had already traced the signal. It came from a donut shop downtown. A completely ordinary place filled with sugar and glazed smiles.
It was clearly from the killer.
But why message him?
He glanced toward the donut shop just as a couple stepped out, chatting under the afternoon sun. Across the street, Minjae exited the same shop, looking exhausted, a sketch clutched tightly in his hand.
Rihan smiled faintly, brushed crumbs from his coat, and handed Minjae the box of donuts he'd kept on the roof of the car before taking the sketch from him.
It was an almost perfect drawing. Sharp cheekbones, hunter-like eyes, an eyebrow ring, and a lip piercing. The face of a man both beautiful and dangerous.
Little Minho had been taken to the station earlier, his vivid description helping the sketch artist. But when they ran it through the database, there was nothing. No match. It was as if the man didn't exist.
"Any lead?" Rihan asked, studying the sketch with a small smile. His artist was gorgeous.
"Unfortunately, he wasn't caught on any CCTV cameras," Minjae sighed. "He paid in cash for three boxes of donuts, too."
Rihan hummed thoughtfully, his smile widening. "Then we'll call him the Grim Reaper for now. Since he texted me, it's clear he wants me to find him." His eyes glinted darkly. "He's got a sweet tooth, too."
Minjae gave him a wary look. "Are you seriously fascinated by him?"
"What? It's not my fault he's attractive." Rihan shoved the sketch in his partner's face playfully.
"I'll never understand you," Minjae muttered, climbing into the car.
Rihan chuckled, slid into the driver's seat, and started the engine. "You don't have to."
With that, he drove off toward the station, the killer's face still burning vividly in his mind.
*** ***
It was midnight.
Rihan sat across from his partner, who was slumped over a pile of files, snoring softly. The sound made Rihan's brow twitch in irritation.
He picked up his cup of bitter coffee and downed it in one gulp before flipping open another file. The Grim Reaper Case.
He wasn't the least bit bored. If anything, the more he read, the more his interest sharpened.
The Grim Reaper had been active since he was eight years old. His earliest victims were prominent figures. Assemblymen, senators, billionaires. People who mattered. But lately, his pattern had changed. He'd started killing ordinary people. Those with no names, no power, no ties to politics or wealth.
It was strange. Sloppy, even. Which meant one of two things: either his motives had shifted… or someone else was pulling the strings.
From the lack of official records, Rihan already knew this man wasn't just a random serial killer. He was a trained assassin. A ghost. Someone who had never existed in any database.
And now that ghost was taunting him directly.
Rihan clicked his tongue. "You're quite popular in the underground, aren't you?" he muttered, eyes narrowing.
He opened his laptop and logged into one of his dark web channels, typing in the same name again.
Grim Reaper.
The results were the same as before.
Grim Reaper. Age: 28. 521 kills. 45 assaults. Evidence of kidnapping, Read More...
Rihan leaned back, his expression unreadable as the faint glow of the monitor reflected in his eyes.
He was good...too good... and Rihan wanted to know more. He pulled his phone back out, reopened the message, and typed.
[Rihan: How about you come out of hiding and make this easy for me?]
The typing dots appeared immediately. Rihan sat up straighter; his heart skipped once.
[Grim Reaper: Like a date? Sure! Feel free to pick a place.]
Rihan stared at the reply, disbelief making his lips part. "A date?" he echoed, then scoffed and typed back.
[Rihan: Are you playing with me? You do know who you're talking to, right?]
[Grim Reaper: I do! *blushing emoji* Pick a place and I'll be there.]
Rihan glanced at Minjae, who was dozing at the table. He could wake him, alert the squad, and have the killer arrested in minutes.
But Rihan had always been more fascinated by how killers killed and why they killed than by the killers themselves.
He admired the bodies the way other people admired paintings. An attitude that unnerved everyone around him. He knew it was strange. Disgust for the murderer, curiosity for the aftermath.
This, though, was different. For the first time, he found himself fascinated by the killer personally.
He typed, slowly. [Rihan: The police station.]
[Grim Reaper: That's dangerous. I do not want to be caught by you, Detective. I just want to talk…]
Rihan bit his lower lip, about to reply, when new text arrived.
[Grim Reaper: I'm outside. Come alone or I will blow up the station.]
Rihan's lips twitched. He almost burst out laughing at the threat but instead rose to his feet, shoved his phone into his pocket, and grabbed his coat. Without a word to Minjae, he left the building and crossed to the parking lot.
There, sitting on the hood of his car was someone dressed entirely in black, long legs swinging playfully like he had all the time in the world.
Rihan slowed his steps, his eyes narrowing as he approached. The man turned his head toward him, revealing curious, bright grey eyes that seemed to light up the moment they met Rihan's.
Rihan stopped cold. It was him. The killer.
The sketch from earlier hadn't done him justice. The man was gorgeous. From those predatory grey eyes to the soft brown hair brushing his chin, the sharp line of his nose, the high cheekbones, and the faint freckles dusting his nose.
His fair skin glowed under the dim light, framed by a brow piercing and a glinting lip ring that caught Rihan's gaze for a moment too long.
The man hopped off the hood smoothly, closing the distance with surprising ease. He stood before Rihan, just a couple of inches taller, his build lean but strong beneath his long coat.
He was an Alpha.
And he was looking at Rihan like a starving man staring at treasure. Like he had finally found something he'd been hunting for years.
"Fuck," the killer breathed, his eyes flicking down Rihan's face with raw, greedy awe. "You're even more beautiful up close, Detective."
He leaned in, and Rihan stepped back immediately, pulling his gun from his coat pocket and pressing it against the man's stomach.
But instead of fear, the killer laughed. A low, rich sound that sent a chill crawling up Rihan's spine.
"Shall we have our date now, Detective?" he murmured, his lips curving into a wicked smile. "Without the guns, please?"