Chapter 73

The next morning.

Special Beast Investigation Unit, Taeryeon’s office.

Beomjin sat quietly in a chair, his fingers interlaced atop the desk.

The space was neatly organized. A single coffee cup sat between stacks of files.

Only its lukewarm warmth hinted that time had passed.

Click.

The doorknob turned, and Taeryeon entered, dressed in a black suit and carrying a bundle of documents. She strode in and took her seat.

“I received your report from yesterday.”

Her heeled shoes tapped calmly against the floor. Sitting across from Beomjin, she lifted her gaze. As always, she studied him with an expressionless stare—sharp eyes, unmoving brows and lips, a face stripped of excess emotion.

“You did well. It couldn’t have been easy handling that alone. You wrapped up a complicated case cleanly.”

As she finished scanning the papers, Taeryeon added,

“But it’s a shame the mask was destroyed. Even if a Jangsan Tiger mask truly exists, it’s not easy for people to accept that it could possess that kind of power.”

“I only reported what I saw.”

“I see.”

Whether it meant she understood or that the conversation was over, Taeryeon cut it short.

“Oh, and the man who was confined is receiving treatment in a psychiatric ward, so there’s no need to worry further. To prevent incidents like last time, agents are stationed there as well.”

“Thank you for taking care of it.”

Beomjin expressed his gratitude.

Suddenly, Woo-seong came to mind, and Beomjin asked,

“The case Senior Woo-seong was handling—has it been resolved?”

Taeryeon lifted an eyebrow slightly as she organized the documents on her desk.

“No. That one is still under investigation. It’ll probably take more time.”

“Then I’ll join that case and help finish it.”

As Beomjin stood up, assigning himself his next mission, Taeryeon raised a hand to stop him.

“Why are you in such a hurry? I’m not done talking yet. Sit.”

At the firmness in her palm, Beomjin sat back down.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Even if that’s the case, mission assignments come from me. Keep that in mind.”

“Yes. I’ll remember.”

Taeryeon picked up a document she had set aside earlier and handed it to Beomjin.

“Here. You’re to meet the hospitalized patient, investigate what happened, and resolve the case.”

“What kind of case is it?”

Beomjin opened the file. Inside were neatly organized profiles of three people, along with a summary of the incident.

Separately, Taeryeon began explaining.

“The patient is a 26-year-old woman. Her name is Baek Yeonju. Four days ago, her younger sister committed suicide. Two days later, a close friend did the same, using the same method. And yesterday, the patient herself attempted suicide—but survived.”

Beomjin’s hand stilled.

Beyond the cleanly printed text on the page, something heavy sank deep into his chest.

“All three of them attempted suicide?”

“Yes. If not for the tree branch yesterday, the death toll would’ve been three.”

…A serial suicide case.

As Beomjin’s expression deepened, Taeryeon spoke again.

“You smell something off, don’t you?”

“I’ll leave immediately.”

Beomjin stood up quietly. He offered Taeryeon a brief salute, and until the moment the chief’s office door closed, her gaze never wavered.

Yet that stillness beyond her blank expression only made him more cautious.

Geonmyeong’s traces hadn’t disappeared, and Taeryeon herself might be one piece of that puzzle.

He couldn’t rush this. Conviction without evidence was poison.

Pressing his inner doubts down, Beomjin headed toward the hospital where Yeonju was admitted.

The hospital room door opened quietly.

Grayish sunlight seeped through a gap in the curtains. On the bed nearest the window, Yeonju lay staring at the ceiling.

She didn’t move at all, only blinking occasionally with a blank expression.

Her long hair lay limply against her cheeks, her unfocused eyes drifting aimlessly in the air.

Beomjin paused at the doorway, watching her for a moment, then stepped inside.

Standing beside the bed, he greeted her carefully.

“Hello, Ms. Baek Yeonju.”

Yeonju didn’t even turn her head.

Beomjin’s presence seemed to register no more than the air itself. There wasn’t even the slightest flicker in her eyes.

She looked like someone completely cut off from the world—emotion, response, even the will to exist.

Beomjin took a seat on the small chair beside her bed and spoke again.

“I’m from the Special Beast Investigation Unit.”

Soft sunlight cast faint shadows across her face.

Even at his introduction, Yeonju didn’t react. The silence stretched on.

Yeonju was a swan.

But that beautiful power and elegant image were fading now. She looked as if she had deliberately turned her back on the world.

The hospital room door opened, and a middle-aged woman entered.

She wore a calm brown cardigan, black slacks, and tightly pressed lips.

After glancing once at her daughter lying in bed, she bowed slightly to Beomjin.

“Who… are you?”

Beomjin stood and bowed in return.

“Hello. I’m Agent Baek Beomjin from the Special Beast Investigation Unit.”

At the mention of the Unit, a faint light returned to her face. Still, exhaustion weighed heavily on her, and her fingertips trembled anxiously.

“If you have a moment, may I ask you to tell me what happened?”

Yeonju’s mother nodded and stepped out of the hospital room with Beomjin. The two sat down on a bench in the hallway and began to talk.

“It was sudden… five days ago. Yes, Saturday. Since it was the weekend, Yeonju went out with her younger sister and a friend. The three of them grew up close to each other and had stayed close even recently.”

Beomjin listened quietly, giving a small nod.

“Up until they went out, everything seemed normal. They had lunch, went to an art museum, did some shopping, and came back home. It was probably around 6 p.m. I thought they’d eat dinner outside too, but they said they weren’t feeling well and came back.”

“They weren’t feeling well? Who was it?”

At Beomjin’s question, Yeonju’s mother answered,

“They didn’t say who. They just said they weren’t in good condition. Thinking back now, it might not have been just one person.”

Her clasped hands trembled uncontrollably.

“…Are you alright?”

Beomjin waited quietly, giving her time to steady herself. After she took a few breaths, she continued.

“Actually… starting that evening, the children were strange. They were always quiet, polite kids, but the moment they came home, their eyes were different. No matter what I asked, they snapped at me first, their tone sharp. And when I scolded them for buying too many clothes…”

She stopped mid-sentence and lowered her head.

“They tore the clothes they were wearing with their own hands. Right there… screaming. They yelled at me for interfering, scratching their arms with their nails…”

Her words faded into silence.

Beomjin nodded slowly. Her voice was losing strength again.

“At the time, I thought it was just stress, or that something had put them in a bad mood and their emotions exploded…

But looking back, something had already gone wrong back then.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head, then continued in little more than a whisper.

“And then… I never imagined the next morning would turn out like that.”

Large tears fell as she covered her face and sobbed. Beomjin couldn’t begin to measure the grief of a mother who had lost her children.

Some time passed like that. Finally, Yeonju’s mother, slightly calmer, lifted her head with difficulty.

“If this is too painful, you don’t have to continue.”

“…No. Please find out what happened. Why my girls… made that choice.”

Her voice trembled again, then cut off as she pressed her lips together.

“You said your daughters acted differently from usual the evening they returned from going out, correct?”

“Yes. They were definitely unusually sensitive, easily angered, like they were deeply dissatisfied with something.”

“…This may be a difficult question, but if Yeonju felt like a different person starting that evening, did she continue behaving like someone else all the way up to yesterday?”

Yeonju’s mother fell silent, sinking into thought.

“…Sometimes she was like that, sometimes she wasn’t. It was like she turned into a different person, then went back to normal again.”

The phrase a different person caught Beomjin’s attention. Instinctively, he felt it was the central keyword of this case.

“I heard that Yeonju’s friend also made the same unfortunate choice. Did she also show violent behavior or act like a different person? Do you know anything about that?”

“Yes, that’s right. That child was strange in the evening too, just like Yeonju. They’d been close since they were little, so we parents stayed in contact. We even talked among ourselves about what the kids could’ve eaten during the day that made them act like that.”

Beomjin nodded. His first place to investigate was decided—the restaurant where they’d had lunch.

“Thank you for telling me. I’ll begin the investigation.”

She stood up with him, clasping her hands tightly as she pleaded,

“…Will Yeonju be okay now?”

“We need to identify the cause, but for now, please don’t take your eyes off her and stay cautious.”

“Yes…”

Seeing her sink into worry, Beomjin tried to reassure her.

“Try not to worry too much. I’ll definitely find the cause.”

“I’m begging you. Please.”

After comforting her several times, Beomjin left the hospital.

The restaurant. The art museum. The shopping mall.

If he retraced Yeonju’s path from that day over the course of one full day, he should be able to find the moment where something caused her to change.

His first destination was an Italian restaurant famous for its pasta and risotto.

2 p.m.

The sun beat harshly down onto the street, but despite the heat, a long line stretched out in front of the restaurant.

La Porta.

Recently labeled a must-visit spot through SNS and online communities. It was especially popular among Beast-Blooded, and most of the customers in line were Beast-Blooded themselves.

Beomjin swept his gaze along the line. Everyone looked excited, chatting with anticipation about the food. Since Beomjin wasn’t here to eat, he walked past the waiting customers and stepped inside.

The interior was smaller than expected. About eight tables, soft lighting, and a cozy, warm atmosphere.

A chef wiping sweat in the kitchen, staff moving briskly. Laughter from customers and the occasional clink of forks against plates filled the air.

Even without tasting a single dish yet, his expectations rose. That much delicious aroma filled the restaurant.

No wonder it had regulars….

He remembered Yeonju’s mother’s words. This was the restaurant Yeonju and her younger sister Namju loved most—a place they visited often even on ordinary days.

As Beomjin entered, a staff member in charge of greeting customers approached him.

“Um, we have a lot of people waiting right now, so you’ll need to wait quite a while—”

“I’m with the Special Beast Investigation Unit.”

Beomjin took out his ID.

The staff member’s expression stiffened instantly. After a delayed, awkward smile, he hurried toward the kitchen.

A moment later, a middle-aged man wearing an apron came out. Wiping sweat from his forehead, he stepped forward.

He was Oh Geonhu, a pig-type Beast-Blooded—and both the head chef and owner of La Porta.