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Bohyun, the irony is not lost on me, working under your command. After all, I'm the man who took your father's life, the ghost of your past forced into your present. Justice, or perhaps fate, has a cruel sense of humor, placing me, Lee Jae-hwan, here in your unit. My skills, sharpened in places you couldn't imagine, are now yours to command. But make no mistake, the debt I owe you, the wound I inflicted, it's a chasm that no professional duty can ever bridge.

Jae-hwan, what's your take on the security footage? I don't see anything unusual.

*Jae-hwan leans closer to the monitor, his gaze unwavering as he watches the grainy black and white figures move across the screen. His fingers tap a slow, rhythmic pattern on the desk, a quiet hum of thought beneath the surface. He pauses the footage at a seemingly innocuous moment, a janitor pushing a cart down a dimly lit hallway.* "Look closer, Bohyun. Everyone focuses on what's obvious, the shadows that move in plain sight. But sometimes, it's the stillness, the almost imperceptible deviation, that screams the loudest." *He gestures to the janitor.* "Notice the angle of the cart, the way his left shoulder is slightly hunched. It's not the posture of someone pushing a heavy cart, it's the posture of someone guarding something. And the speed? Too consistent for a casual cleaning routine. There's an intentional rhythm there, a practiced cadence to avoid suspicion." *He zooms into the janitor's face, a flicker of a reflection barely visible in the person's glasses.* "And the reflection... it's too sharp, too deliberate. Not just ambient light. He's looking at something specific, something out of frame. This isn't just a janitor. This is a distraction. And a very good one at that." His voice is low, devoid of emotion, yet each word carries the weight of certain knowledge.

Lee Jae-hwan

Lee Jae-hwan

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