PROLOGUE

NOVEMBER 27

2:37 a.m.

The streets of Seoul were unnervingly silent under the weight of midnight. The city’s usual cacophony had quieted to a hum, the sounds of passing cars and murmuring nightlife barely echoing into the narrow alleyways hidden in the shadows. A dense fog had swept in from the Han River, blurring the edges of buildings and wrapping around street lamps like ghostly tendrils.

Down a forgotten alley near the river, a figure in a dark hood moved swiftly and soundlessly, steps muffled against the wet pavement. The fog seemed to cling to them, shrouding their face as if they were part of the night itself. They halted by a derelict brick wall, eyeing it with a meticulous gaze, and then slipped a hand into their coat pocket, pulling out a small piece of white chalk.

One by one, they traced symbols onto the wall, each stroke deliberate and precise, like a dancer following choreography. These symbols were old, forgotten by most—a language only a few in Seoul would recognize. As the figure drew, they muttered under their breath in a low, rhythmic cadence, words lost in the swirling mist but resonating with the silence. Finished, the figure stepped back, admiring their work with a subtle satisfaction. The symbols seemed to pulse faintly, as if charged with energy, each line whispering secrets older than the city itself.

As the figure turned to disappear into the darkness, footsteps sounded from a nearby street. For a moment, the figure paused, just barely shifting their head as a shadow flickered at the end of the alley. But as quickly as the footsteps had come, they faded, leaving only silence. A faint smile crept across the figure’s lips. They melted back into the fog, leaving the symbols glowing faintly under the dim light.

NOVEMBER 28

6:12 a.m.

A shrill ring shattered the predawn quiet of Detective Lee Jong-wook’s apartment, pulling him from a sleep he barely remembered entering. He blinked against the pale morning light filtering through his curtains, reaching blindly for his phone on the nightstand. The screen displayed the familiar emergency contact.

"Another one," came the brief message. Jongno district. Alley by the river.

Lee's heart sank as he threw on his clothes, every part of him bracing for what he’d find. It had been weeks since the first of these murders, each more gruesome and enigmatic than the last. Team 3 had handled brutal cases before—they were the highest-performing unit in Seoul, known for cracking organized crime rings and bringing down hardened criminals. But this case was different, a maze of puzzles with no clear path out.

He arrived at the scene, ducking under the yellow tape, where Detective Park Soo-min, his partner, was already waiting. Park’s face was tense, his eyes fixed on the far end of the alley where officers moved carefully, casting uneasy glances at the walls as if fearing they’d reveal more horrors.

“Same as the others?” Lee asked, his voice barely above a whisper, though he already knew the answer.

Park nodded grimly. “Same patterns. Symbols. Placement. But this one… it’s worse.”

Lee’s gaze followed Park’s to the body lying in the center of the alley. The victim’s limbs were arranged in that familiar, haunting position, arms crossed over the chest, head tilted left, eyes staring blankly at the damp pavement. But something was different. There was a rigidity, a finality to this pose that seemed almost… reverent.

“What do you mean by worse?” Lee asked, his voice low, eyes narrowing as he took in the scene.

Park gestured toward the wall, where a new set of symbols had been scrawled in chalk, lines sharper and more precise than before. They seemed more intricate, more purposeful, their meaning obscured but their message unmistakable: Someone was watching. Someone was waiting.

But it wasn’t only the symbols that caught Lee’s eye. Near the body, a faint mark showed on the victim’s wrist—a tattoo, partially obscured by blood. It was unfamiliar, a combination of characters that didn’t belong to any language Lee recognized. He bent down, a chill creeping up his spine as he tried to trace its lines. Somehow, he felt as though the tattoo was meant for him to see. As if the killer wanted him to understand but was taunting him with his own ignorance.

“We need someone who can see this case with fresh eyes,” Soo-min said quietly, echoing Lee’s own thoughts.

Lee nodded slowly, a strange clarity coming over him. They needed someone who could look beyond the obvious, someone who wasn’t yet hardened by years of brutal cases. Someone with an unclouded perspective.

“What do you think it means?” Park asked, his voice barely a murmur, as if afraid to disturb whatever dark energy lingered in the alley.

“I don’t know,” Lee replied, straightening. “But I think… I think it’s only the beginning.”

VALEBROOK INSTITUTE OF CRIMINAL SCIENCES --

NOVEMBER 28

3:42 p.m

On the other side of the world, AJ was catching her breath, a late lunch barely touched beside her as she pored over case files in the quiet corner of the university library. As a criminology student, she’d grown accustomed to the grim details in the files. But today was different. Today, she was so engrossed that she didn’t notice her phone vibrating on the table until it buzzed for the fourth time.

AJ’s mentor, Dr. Eleanor Choi’s name flashed across the screen. Frowning, AJ picked up, only to be met with a brief silence, the kind that felt like a pause before bad news.

“AJ,” Dr. Choi’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. “Are you sitting down?”

“I am, Professor. Is everything all right?”

“Not… exactly. Seoul Police Department just reached out to me. They need help with a case.” A pause, and then, “I recommended you.”

AJ’s heart skipped, a mixture of excitement and trepidation filling her chest. “You mean… actually work with them? Like an internship?”

Dr. Choi’s silence was long, and then she said, “Not quite. This case is… complicated. It’s unlike anything you’ve studied, anything I’ve ever taught. And the patterns… they’re unsettling.”

A flicker of nervous excitement lit in AJ’s mind, but something in Dr. Choi’s tone tempered it. This wasn’t just a case. It felt like an invitation into something unknown, something far darker than she’d ever imagined.

“AJ, be careful,” Dr. Choi murmured. “I’ll send you the files I have so far. Read them on your way.”

As AJ ended the call, a chill trickled down her spine, her hand resting over her chest where she could feel the thundering of her heart. She glanced out the window, her eyes drifting toward the hazy horizon. She’d always dreamed of making a difference, of using her skills in the field.

But a voice whispered in the back of her mind:

Some doors, once opened, could never be closed again.

______________________________________________

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***