The lights hummed back to life, flooding the grand foyer with cold brilliance.

Standing at the center was Na-Young, a legendary actress of the 1970s. Once known for elegance and grace, her beauty was now twisted into a mask of fury.

"What have you done, Yoo-Rim?" she hissed.

Yoo-Rim lifted her hand to her face. 

Her thumb brushed the corner of her mouth, coming away stained with blood. She looked at her mother, eyes icy and unflinching.

"So..." she said quietly.
"Even you are convinced it was me."

The heavy front doors swung open.

Chang Seok stepped inside, snapping his phone shut. One of the three richest men in Korea.

He didn't look at his daughter with concern.

He looked at her like a defective product.

"Don't go out for a few days," Chang Seok said flatly.

"This is because you pampered her!" Na-Young screamed. "Look at what she's become!"

"And what do you want me to do?" Chang Seok roared back, his voice echoing through the marble halls.

"Hand my daughter to the police? Give them a trophy to destroy my legacy?"

He turned to Yoo-Rim.

"My lawyer will be here tomorrow. Tell him everything."
Then, without a pause—
"Go to your room."

"Dad...." she whispered.

Chang Seok didn't even look up from his tablet.

"I don't believe you," he replied.
"I'm protecting my brand. Go sleep."

Upstairs, Yoo-Rim stood before her mirror.

She touched the cut on her lip.

Her reflection stared back beautiful, broken, and dangerous.

"I will make every single one of them pay," she breathed.

While the mansion slept, the police station did not.

Phones rang. Officers moved nonstop. Coffee cups piled up like evidence.

Chief Officer Kim collapsed into his chair and gestured sharply.

"Report."

Detective Jeon placed a thick folder on the desk.

"Sir, the evidence is... strange."

Kim leaned forward.

"The hair found at the mall," Jeon continued, "wasn't real. 

It's a high-end wig or extension. The killer wore gloves, a hoodie, and heavy boots. No fingerprints."

"How did she escape so fast?" Kim asked.

"Construction work," Jeon replied.
"The back exit was open."

He flipped a page.

"The victim was attacked at 1:35 AM.
By 1:50 AM, someone entered a car.
By 2:00 AM, the workers were awake."

Jeon closed the file.

"She was already gone."

Kim tapped his pen against the desk, thinking.

"It was Friday night in Itaewon," he said slowly.
"The streets are never empty."

Jeon nodded.

"If the killer was smart, she used the crowd," he said.
"But if we're smarter..."

His eyes darkened.

"We'll find the moment she stepped out of character."