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Park Isol’s home was on the third floor of a multi-family building near the construction site.
They took the elevator up and pressed the doorbell.
“Who is it?”
A frail voice came before the door even opened. A moment later, a cautious elderly woman peeked out, her white hair neatly tied back. The moment she saw the two men standing there, she flinched and stepped back.
“Wh-Why… a Tiger?”
She was Park Isol’s grandmother. Her scent carried traces of a deer—just like her granddaughter. Gently, Beomjin showed his ID.
“Please don’t be alarmed. We’re with the Special Beast Investigation Unit. This is Park Isol’s residence, correct? We have a few questions.”
“Isol? My granddaughter?”
Worry rushed across her face.
“…Did something happen to my Isol?”
Her lips were already trembling.
“No, we just need to confirm a few things.”
Woo-seong stepped in smoothly, adding:
“Could we take a brief look at her room?”
The grandmother hesitated—then nodded and opened the door.
“…Yes. Come in. It might be a bit messy…”
The victim’s room was directly to the left of the entrance.
A typical teenage girl’s bedroom.
Posters of popular idols on the wall. Stuffed dolls neatly arranged on the bed. Hair rollers, lip balm, textbooks and notebooks scattered across the vanity and desk like puzzle pieces.
“My granddaughter studies very hard,” the grandmother said, voice trembling.
“She’s a quiet, well-behaved… good kid.”
She walked in and smoothed the corner of the crumpled blanket, wiping her eyes.
Beomjin scanned the room.
Photos—laughing with friends, posing during family outings, bright smiles at an amusement park. Just a normal seventeen-year-old girl.
“Did she have any issues with friends? Trouble at school? A boyfriend?”
At Woo-seong’s question, the grandmother shook her head firmly.
“Never. She went to cram school every day, and on weekends she studied at the library. She gets along well with her parents too…”
There was nothing in this room that suggested hatred or a motive.
“…She’s alright, isn’t she?”
The grandmother blinked anxiously—voice fragile as thin glass.
He couldn’t look away here.
“We’re still confirming things.”
A soft breath escaped her—almost a whimper. She nodded faintly, fighting back panic.
“We’ll take our leave now.”
They bowed politely and stepped out.
The grandmother followed them to the entrance and closed the door—and immediately, muffled sobbing seeped through the gap.
“…She figured it out.”
Beomjin clenched his jaw to force down the ache in his chest. The greatest weight in death always fell on the survivors.
His own last memory—dying under Jin Geonmyeong’s handreturned like a blade to the heart.
Death was familiar. But even then… there were people left behind to grieve him.
The agents swallowed their rising anger, letting it settle like cold rain on their backs.
Forensic Science Division.
Inside the gray building, disinfectant stung the air.
The waiting room was silent—white coats passing by occasionally like ghosts.
They presented their credentials and soon met the assigned researcher—a Snake Beast-Blooded man adjusting his glasses.
He guided them down a corridor where doors lined both walls, every trace of humanity scrubbed clean.
“This way.”
The chilled air of the morgue greeted them—two bodies laid out beneath black sheets.
Like conducting a ritual, Beomjin slowly lifted the first cover.
Victim one: Kim Gyu-jin, mid-70s, Rabbit Beast-Blooded.
A wrinkled face drained of life, numerous wounds concentrated around the neck and chest.
He had lived alone—found dead on a quiet hiking trail at dawn.
Next, the second victim—Oh Mi-suk, forty, Sparrow Beast-Blooded.
Loose curls, warm features—but now cold, motionless. Unlike the others, she had many injuries on her arms and hands.
“Here.”
Beomjin pointed to a bruise on the inside of her right arm—a faint handprint.
“Likely from being grabbed during the struggle—pinning her down.”
“No… the pressure’s too weak. If the attacker was male—especially a Beast-Blooded—this would look much deeper.”
The researcher pushed up his glasses, realizing something new.
“That’s true… the bruise is shallow.”
“Meaning… the attacker could be a woman.”
Woo-seong said it calmly.
The researcher nodded—then added, as if something had just clicked in his mind:
“During the autopsy, I checked multiple times. Both victims were killed by the same person. The angle of the cuts, depth, distribution of force…”
The researcher turned to face the two agents.
“But despite how random the attacks are, there’s a concentrated emotion behind them. Deep resentment… blind rage… or fear. Completely unrestrained emotions. There are even stabs made after the victims had already died.”
His voice wavered. He gently lowered the sheets again.
“If you find the killer… please ask them why they did this.”
He exhaled a slow, heavy sigh—even an expert powerless in the face of senseless violence.
Leaving the lab, Beomjin’s phone buzzed.
He checked the screen—Taeryeon.
He inhaled once, steadying himself, then answered.
“Yes, Chief. Baek Beomjin speaking.”
Flat. Controlled. No emotion.
“Any progress?”
Her voice was calm, smooth—yet sharpened like a blade.
“I thought you would have something by now. Nothing yet?”
“We’re actively investigating. We’ll have a lead soon.”
“Is soon measured in hours? Or days?”
A sudden thrust—probing his limits.
Beomjin kept his eyes on the distant line of trees as he replied:
“If we find the victims’ common thread, we’ll find the killer’s trail.”
“Fine. I’ll wait… a little longer. Make sure the results give headquarters the right impression.”
“Understood.”
“The Director trusts you. I don’t yet. Prove yourself—and change my mind.”
She hung up without hesitation.
Beomjin released a long breath, easing the tension from his jaw.
“Not the most patient woman, huh.”
Woo-seong smirked and unfolded a city map on his phone.
“While you were on the call, I checked the locations. The second victim’s home is nearby. It won’t be easy, but we should hear from the family.”
“Right. So far, the only commonality is that they’re Beast-Blooded.”
Because they were Beast-Blooded?
He repeated the thought to himself—and realized it might be a clue… but far from enough.
“What are you doing? Let’s move.”
Woo-seong called him back to reality.
He followed. And just like that—pieces of the puzzle he had begun to arrange scattered again.
The second victim’s home: a corridor-style apartment showing the wear of years.
No security. They entered freely and went up the elevator. Children’s laughter echoed from a small playground outside—yet somehow, it felt unsettling.
“Excuse us.”
At the doorbell, a thud sounded inside. Panicked footsteps rushed to the entrance—the door flew open.
“Honey!”
A worn, exhausted man stood there, eyes wide—but once he recognized they were strangers, his shoulders dropped.
“…Who are you?”
“We’re from the Special Beast Investigation Unit.”
“What do you want?”
He leaned back against the wall. Faint alcohol clung to his breath.
“We’d like to ask a few questions about Oh Mi-suk.”
A twitch beneath his eye. He turned slightly, coughing hard—trying to regain composure.
“What more do you need to hear…?”
He sank to the floor, legs giving out.
Behind him: an apartment in disarray—empty bottles, takeout containers, tissues scattered everywhere.
“Anything you can tell us will help.”
“…Come in.”
He pushed the trash aside and let them enter.
A framed family photo sat beside the TV—three smiling faces.
Staring at it, he spoke in a daze:
“…My wife was a good person. Talkative, yeah, nagged a bit… but she was kind. I haven’t even told our kids yet. I don’t know how to say it. No matter how I try… I can’t.”
A tear fell.
“Did she have conflicts with anyone? Anyone who might have held a grudge?”
Woo-seong asked carefully—but the husband glared through bloodshot eyes.
“No! Never! She got along with everyone! She went on trips with other moms, helped neighbors, even volunteered at a library event just recently. We were… happy.”
He wasn’t Beast-Blooded—and judging from his surprise, he didn’t even know his wife was.
Which meant—the killer knew more about her than her own family did.
Little concrete evidence—but her husband’s ignorance was a clue itself.
“If anything else comes to mind, please contact us.”
Woo-seong handed him a card.
The man clutched it with trembling fingers—as though it might be the last thing holding his world together.
“Thank you for your cooperation.”
The two agents bowed politely and stepped out.
Once the door closed and they were alone in the hallway, silence lingered between them.
Woo-seong finally spoke first.
“…The traces left by family feel heavier than the corpse itself.”
Beomjin nodded.
“Yeah… those memories don’t fade easily.”
Their next stop was the first victim Gyu-jin’s home—a small detached house. But the firmly closed gate suggested no welcome inside. The yard was neat… almost too neat, like no one lived there anymore.
A call to the victim’s family went unanswered.
“Looks like the relatives already cleaned the place out.”
Beomjin stared at the mailbox stuffed with advertisement flyers.
“The crime scene was a walking trail, right? …Should we check it out?”
“Yeah. It’s better than nothing.”
They walked where Gyu-jin would have walked. Past residential streets, two crosswalks—the hiking trail soon came into view.
Along the path, small shops and low apartment blocks dotted the scenery. A tiny public library. A fitness center. A quiet neighborhood with room to breathe.
Then—something struck him.
“…Hold on.”
He froze and stared directly at the library. The families’ voices echoed in his mind.
Mi-suk had attended an event at the library. Isol often studied there. And Gyu-jin walked past it every morning.
“…Open the map again.”
Woo-seong handed him the phone.
Plotting the victims’ homes created a triangle. At its center—this library.
There wasn’t another library nearby for over twice the distance.
“This library. It’s what connects all three.”
A chill crawled up his spine.
This building looked… drained. As if something unseen was suppressing the air itself.
“…Let’s go.”
Their footsteps shifted direction—toward the library.
There, a silent killing intent waited—holding its breath in the quiet.
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