Chapter 74

In his late forties, Geonhu fit the image of a pig Beast-Blooded well—broad shoulders, sturdy limbs, and a generous build that gave him an overall benevolent, hearty look.

The moment he spotted Beomjin, a faint crease formed on Geonhu’s brow. The words “Special Beast Investigation Unit” made something inside him freeze over.

“Ah… you said you’re from the Special Investigation Unit? I assume you’re not here to eat…”

It was a smile that looked forced, squeezed out of habit. His eyes, however, had already hardened with wariness and discomfort.

“What brings you here?”

“I have a few questions,” Beomjin replied shortly.

Geonhu glanced around before nodding.

“It’s peak hours right now… Please give me ten minutes. I’ll show you to the office in the back.”

He led Beomjin to the office and brought out some small snacks and coffee. After taking a sip, Beomjin quietly surveyed the room.

One wall was packed with cookbooks. On the shelf in front of it were framed photos—Geonhu wearing sunglasses, posing in the mountains with several men of similar build.

Every single person in the photos wore sunglasses.

Not only outdoors, but even in places that looked like indoor locations.

Even in group shots, no one’s eyes were visible.

That single detail grated on his nerves. Was it just a shared fashion preference—or were they hiding something?

A moment later, Geonhu returned, wiping sweat from his face, and sat down.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. Please, go ahead.”

“Do you remember three people—two sisters and a friend—who visited here five days ago?”

Geonhu stroked his chin, thinking.

“Ah, the swan sisters. The younger one was very pretty. They were regulars, so I remember them.”

“The younger sister is dead.”

Geonhu blinked, speechless.

“…What? What… happened?”

“That’s still under investigation. This was the last place the three of them visited together, so we’re checking for any possible leads.”

Geonhu sat expressionless for a moment before speaking.

“There shouldn’t have been anything like that coming from our restaurant.”

He crossed his arms and leaned back. His tone was firm—but his gaze wavered briefly.

“Are you suggesting there was poison?”

Beomjin shook his head lightly.

“No. I’m just wondering if you noticed anything unusual about their behavior or manner of speech that day.”

Geonhu unconsciously bit his lip once. It looked like something had come to mind, yet he hesitated to speak.

“I don’t really know. Other than the younger one being pretty, nothing stands out.”

He spoke calmly. But something about it didn’t sit right.

His expression was composed, but his fingertips trembled faintly. The slight delays between breaths at the end of each sentence only sharpened the unease.

Beomjin didn’t look away, continuing to watch him in silence.

“If anything comes to mind later, please contact me,” he said, quietly handing over his business card.

There was nothing more to draw out for now.

Still, an unexplainable tension hung somewhere in that space.

Prepared calm was more suspicious than the silence of someone who simply didn’t talk much.

As he stepped outside, Beomjin let out a short breath. It was a familiar feeling—one he encountered every time he worked a case.

Nothing tangible in hand, just an overload of intuition.

No walls visible, not even knowing where the wall was—yet his forehead throbbed as if he’d already run into one.

On days like that, even the next destination felt unreliable.

Beomjin pulled out his phone and called Jinyoung.

After a few rings, a familiar voice answered.

“What’s up? Calling at this hour?”

“Tomorrow morning, eleven o’clock. Let’s meet in front of La Porta.”

“Isn’t that the famous restaurant?”

Jinyoung replied, her voice tinged with excitement.

“What is this, suddenly treating me to a meal? You know I’ve been having a rough time lately?”

“I’ll treat you some other time.”

He could practically hear her disappointed expression through the phone.

“So, what kind of case is it?”

Beomjin didn’t answer right away. He took a slow breath and turned his gaze aside. A trash bin at the end of the alley caught his eye for no real reason.

“Nothing concrete yet. It’s just… something feels off.”

“You’re moving on instinct?”

“You know I’ve always been like that.”

She let out a short laugh.

“You used to dig into only weird cases with Woo-seong sunbae, and now you’ve gotten pretty weird yourself.”

“People don’t really change. I just don’t have anything solid yet.”

After ending the call, Beomjin quietly lowered his phone.

He had a feeling—but nothing he could actually grab onto.

Getting into his car, he entered the museum’s address into the navigation.

Next, another question mark was waiting.

The museum Yeonju and the others had visited. Coincidentally, a solo exhibition by a young artist named Ruwan was being held.

The moment Beomjin stepped into the exhibition hall, he stopped without realizing it.

The space was crowded with young female visitors, and the walls were packed with vivid, flamboyant paintings.

The colors were intense. The composition was hard to decipher.

‘All these people nodding like they get it… Do they really understand it?’

Beomjin walked slowly between the paintings. Then he stopped in front of one that stuck out to him more than the others.

A dark crimson stain bled into the vivid colors. It looked like nothing more than a blot of paint—yet it gave off a strange sensation.

‘What is this even trying to say…?’

The painting as a whole felt chaotic, its structure difficult to grasp. To be honest, he didn’t really understand it.

And yet, for some reason, he couldn’t look away.

At that moment, someone approached from behind. A gentle voice brushed past his ear.

“Seems like the piece caught your interest.”

When he turned around, it was Ruwan.

Mid-thirties, with an exotic appearance typical of someone mixed-race and a soft, polished way of speaking.

With eloquent speech and a distinctive artistic sense, he was a popular artist often called a “genius.” The rarity of a chameleon only added to his air of mystery.

The exhibition hall buzzed with young female visitors, snapping photos in front of Ruwan’s works and exchanging interpretations as they enjoyed the show.

“It’s… a little unsettling,” Beomjin said.

He gave a brief introduction and explained why he was there.

“Was there anything about that day that stood out to you?”

Ruwan smiled. For a split second, it almost looked like the color of his eyes changed.

“I just paint,” Ruwan said. “Faces fade from my memory quickly. Those sisters… I don’t really remember them.”

Beomjin pointed to one of the paintings in front of him.

“What does this represent?”

Ruwan tilted his head slowly.

“The darkness lurking somewhere in a world we do not see. And when that darkness… takes a brief opportunity…”

He let the sentence trail off, leaving the rest to interpretation.

Beomjin stared at the painting silently and nodded briefly. He still didn’t understand it fully.

“Thank you. It was a fine exhibition.”

Even as he gave the formal farewell and turned away, Ruwan’s eyes and the red blot on the painting lingered in his mind.

He left the museum and visited the two shopping malls Yeonju’s group had been to.

Restaurants, stores, CCTV records—nothing out of the ordinary appeared.

Had he really found nothing?

Beomjin looked up at the sky. Like sunlight hiding behind distant clouds, he had the feeling he was missing something.

That night, he returned to Yeonju’s hospital room. She was asleep, her mother dozing beside her.

Just as he was about to quietly leave, Yeonju suddenly screamed and bolted upright.

“Get out! I said GET OUT!!”

Her eyes wide, she seemed like an entirely different person.

She yanked the IV out and knocked over the stand. When Beomjin approached, she bit and scratched at him, resisting violently.

Only after nurses and doctors administered sedatives could she be calmed.

The attending physician looked visibly shocked.

“This kind of reaction… I’ve honestly never seen before.”

He glanced down at the chart and continued.

“All vitals and physical stats were normal. To suddenly exhibit this level of change without any prior symptoms…”

He fiddled nervously with his pen cap, unable to hide his unease.

“It’s something difficult to explain physically or mentally.”

“A psychological trigger or trauma response, perhaps?” Beomjin asked calmly.

“Normally, such reactions follow a pattern or context. But this… is completely disconnected.”

“Disconnected, you say…”

“It appears to be a sudden conversion caused by some external stimulus.”

Beomjin sat on the chair outside the room, deep in thought.

Yeonju’s condition was far too abrupt for a simple mental shock, and it was excessively physical.

What she saw, heard, and touched.

Yet what stood out most was what she had eaten.

From experience, when the body reacts so strongly, substances are usually involved.

It could be food poisoning, drugs, or even a special ingredient aimed at Beast-Blooded.

Hospital records had their limits. Beomjin stood up.

The next destination: Seongwondang. There, he might find explanations.

As he closed the door, Sun-woong and Sun-ae opened it and stepped out.

“Ah, long time no see, Tiger,” Sun-ae said, her eyes wide with delight.

“Something happened? You look… a bit off.”

“I just need to ask a few things. Not a long story.”

Sun-ae smiled knowingly.

“Then let’s have a meal together while you tell me. We were just about to eat anyway.”

The three of them headed to a nearby restaurant.

During the meal, Beomjin brought up Yeonju’s case, and Sun-woong and Sun-ae listened attentively.

As the discussion continued, a sudden, inexplicable anger and frustration welled up inside Beomjin. His eyes reddened, his chest tightened.

“Sorry… just a moment.”

He jumped up and ran out of the restaurant, leaning against a utility pole, taking deep breaths with tear-filled eyes.

Sun-woong and Sun-ae quickly followed.

“What’s wrong? Why are you like this?”

Sun-woong’s concern was clear as they hurried him back to Seongwondang.

They settled him down and administered a calming medication.

When Beomjin awoke, Sun-ae had been resting on the table, and Sun-woong soon followed.

“That reaction… was similar to what Yeonju experienced.”

“Being a Tiger, it was manageable. Otherwise, it would’ve been a disaster.”

So the cause was the food eaten during the day.

La Porta. That was the place.

The interior of La Porta was bathed in morning sunlight. Even before opening, a crowd had gathered outside.

When the door opened, Jinyoung stepped in first. A staff member approached and greeted her. She replied politely and was shown to her seat.

“Our group will be here shortly. Please choose the menu for us,” she said, sitting down. The atmosphere was still quiet, and the smell of cooking wafted from the kitchen.

From beyond the kitchen, Geonhu glanced at her, but Jinyoung sipped her water calmly, unaffected.

A few minutes later, Beomjin entered. Geonhu’s eyes widened instantly. He set down the towel he had been using to handle cooking and approached, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“You… you were here yesterday, right? So early in the morning…”

“She’s with me,” Beomjin answered briefly, sitting opposite Jinyoung. Geonhu smiled, careful with his expression.

“Since such esteemed guests have arrived, I must prepare a special dish for you. Not on the usual menu, but today… specially for you…”

At that moment, a commotion came from the entrance. Beast-Blooded agents from the Special Unit burst in.

Their faces were resolute as they entered, causing the customers to stir in surprise.

“What are you doing?!”

Geonhu shouted, but the agents had already moved toward the kitchen. Jinyoung stepped forward with a document, showing it to Geonhu.

“Mr. Oh Geonhu. This is a lawful search warrant. Please cooperate.”

Beomjin focused on the pasta and risotto on the table, sniffing the aroma and lifting a forkful of noodles. His eyebrows twitched slightly.

“…Aegidol.”

He muttered under his breath. Geonhu paled instantly. From the kitchen came an urgent shout.

“Something’s been found! Powder form. Please check!”

An officer held up a transparent bag of powder. Jinyoung took it and examined it.

“Aegidol.”

Geonhu pressed his lips together and lowered his head. Beomjin stared silently at him.

La Porta had been lacing food for Beast-Blooded with addictive substances. It was clearly a crime, and punishment was inevitable.

Yet Beomjin exhaled quietly.

“This isn’t it…”

Only now did he realize a piece of the puzzle was misplaced.

The abnormal reaction in Yeonju was more than a mere stimulus.

A twisted change from the very root, beyond what Aegidol could explain.

He paused, then muttered quietly to himself.

“What did I miss…?”

At that moment, what struck his mind was the vivid color and the red blot.

Ruwan’s painting.

Then, Beomjin’s eyes sharpened, fixed with resolve.