A faint creak broke the silence as Minsoo sauntered into the room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a mischievous grin on his face. “Still at it, huh?” he said, plopping the coffee down on Jisung’s desk. “You’re going to burn a hole in your brain if you keep this up.”

Jisung glanced at the coffee, then at Minsoo. “Thanks,” he muttered, though his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely grateful. He took a sip, the bitterness grounding him. “This case… It's like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Every lead I follow just leads to another dead end.”

Minsoo leaned against the desk, his arms crossed. “Maybe you’re overthinking it. Sometimes the answer is right in front of you.”

Jisung raised an eyebrow. “And sometimes it’s not. This isn’t one of your club mysteries, Minsoo. This is real.” Sometimes he wonders how Minsoo became a detective.

Minsoo chuckled, unfazed. “Touchy, touchy. Alright, Mr. Genius Detective, I’ll leave you to it. But don’t forget to eat, okay? You’re starting to look like a ghost.”

Jisung didn’t respond, his attention already drifting back to the files. Minsoo shook his head and walked away, leaving Jisung alone with his thoughts.

Hours passed, and the station grew quieter as the day wore on. Jisung’s fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up records, cross-referencing data, and jotting down notes. His mind was a whirlwind of theories and possibilities, each one more intricate than the last. He loved this, the thrill of the chase, the satisfaction of connecting the dots. It was what made him the best.

 

His eyes scanned the jewelry store owner’s statement for what felt like the hundredth time. The words were clear, concise, and utterly unconvincing. But he wanted to hear it himself, perhaps the owner remembered something he had not mentioned before.

He stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. The case file was tucked under his arm as he grabbed his coat and headed for the door. 

He parked the police car a block away from the jewelry store, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention. The store was as opulent as he’d expected. A bell chimed softly as he pushed the door open, the scent of polished wood and expensive perfume filling the air. 

The receptionist, a young woman with a nervous smile, looked up from her desk. “Can I help you, sir?” 

Jisung flashed his badge, his expression calm but firm. “I’m here to speak with the owner. It’s regarding an ongoing investigation.” 

The girl’s smile faltered for a moment before she nodded. “Of course, sir. Let me check if he’s available.” 

She disappeared into a back room, leaving Jisung to wait. He glanced around the store, his sharp eyes taking in every detail -the security cameras, the layout, the way the employees moved, everything seemed normal. 

The receptionist returned, her smile tighter now. “He’ll be with you in just a moment.” Jisung nodded.

Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. The receptionist returned twice more, each time with the same rehearsed line: “He’ll be here in just a minute.” By the third time, Jisung’s patience had worn thin. 

He glanced at his watch before stepping closer to the desk, his voice low but commanding. “Listen carefully. This investigation is critical, and your employer’s cooperation is not optional. If he refuses to speak with me, I will have no choice but to take measures. And if you continue to impede this process, you will be held accountable as well.” 

The girl’s face paled, her hands trembling slightly as she fumbled with the phone. “I-I’ll let him know right away, sir.” 

Jisung stepped back, his expression unreadable, but his mind was already raced with possibilities. A minute later, the receptionist returned, her voice barely above a whisper. “He’ll see you now. His office is this way.” 

Jisung followed her upstairs. The door to the office was slightly ajar, and as he pushed it open, he was met with the sight of the store owner, a middle-aged man with a carefully curated air of importance. 

“Detective,” the man said, his tone polite but dismissive. “I’ve already told the police everything I know. I’m not sure what more I can do for you.” 

Jisung stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “You told the police,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “But you didn’t tell me. And I’m the one handling the case now.” 

The owner leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of him. “I’m a busy man, Detective. I don’t have time to go over the same details again.” 

Jisung’s eyes narrowed slightly, but his expression remained neutral. “Then let’s make this quick. Your surveillance cameras, were they working on the day of the robbery?” According to the statements he had previously checked, the surveillance cameras were either broken, or as Jisung suspected, they had been hacked.

The owner hesitated, a flicker of unease crossing his face before he masked it with a shrug. “No, they were broken. A malfunction, unfortunately.” 

Jisung’s lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. ‘A malfunction in one of the largest jewelry stores in the city? Unlikely.’

“And the public road cameras?” he pressed. “The police checked them, I assume?” 

“Of course,” the owner said quickly, too quickly. “They found nothing.” 

Jisung nodded slowly, his mind already piecing together the inconsistencies. “I see. Well, thank you for your time. If there’s anything else you remember anything at all, don’t hesitate to contact me.” And he turned to leave. 

The owner’s smile was tight, his eyes avoiding Jisung’s. “Of course, Detective.” 

From the beginning he knew that this statement would not help him at all, even the chance of the owner changing his statement was weak. He had to find another way.

***

...to be continued

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