The Art Dealer

The streets of Itaewon, a vibrant and eclectic neighborhood known for its art scene, were quieter than usual as Joon and Park approached Choi Mi-young’s gallery. The gallery itself was modern, with sleek glass windows showcasing contemporary paintings and sculptures, a stark contrast to the chaos of the city outside.

Inside, the air was cool and filled with the scent of fresh paint and expensive leather. Choi Mi-young, an elegant woman in her late forties, greeted them with a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was impeccably dressed, her sharp eyes taking in Joon and Park with an air of caution.

"Detective Joon, Officer Park," she said smoothly. "I’ve heard about Song Yuna’s tragic death. It’s terrible. How can I help you?"

Joon studied her carefully, noting the way she held herself with composed elegance. "We understand you spoke with Song Yuna at the Haneul Club two nights ago. We’re hoping you can tell us more about that conversation."

Choi Mi-young’s expression didn’t falter. "Yes, I did speak with Yuna. We’d worked together on a few art exhibitions over the years. She was a talented curator, though somewhat elusive. I’m not sure how much I can help you, Detective. Our conversation was mostly professional."

Joon leaned in slightly. "Mostly professional?"

Choi’s composure wavered for just a moment, but she recovered quickly. "She seemed… distracted that night. Nervous, even. She mentioned she was working on something big, a project that could change everything. I assumed it was another art exhibition, but she didn’t give me any details."

"A project?" Joon asked, intrigued. "Did she say who else was involved?"

Choi shook her head. "No, she was vague. But I got the impression it was more personal than professional. She was guarded, as if she didn’t want to share too much."

"Was she afraid?" Joon asked, watching Choi’s reaction closely.

Choi hesitated before answering. "I wouldn’t say afraid. But she was definitely concerned about something. She even asked me about Han Seung-min."

Joon’s interest sharpened. "What did she ask?"

"She wanted to know if I’d ever worked with him or his company in the art world. I told her I hadn’t. It was strange. I got the feeling she was trying to figure something out about him."

Joon exchanged a glance with Park. This was a new piece of the puzzle. Song Yuna had been digging into Han Seung-min’s life for some reason. But why?

"Did she mention why she was asking about him?" Joon pressed.

Choi shook her head again, this time more slowly. "No. But whatever it was, she didn’t seem comfortable talking about it."

Joon stood up, feeling the pieces start to shift in his mind. Song Yuna had been involved in something far more complicated than a simple art project. Her connection to Han Seung-min was deeper than anyone realized, and it had cost her life.

"Thank you for your time, Ms. Choi. If you think of anything else, don’t hesitate to contact us," Joon said, handing her his card.

As they left the gallery, Officer Park broke the silence. "She’s hiding something."

"Yes," Joon agreed. "But she’s not our killer. She’s as much in the dark as we are."

Joon’s thoughts were already racing ahead, connecting dots that hadn’t yet fully formed. Song Yuna’s "project" had something to do with Han Seung-min, and it had put her in danger. But whether Seung-min was the mastermind or just another pawn remained to be seen.

They needed to find him—before someone else turned up dead.

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