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Бохён, ирония не ускользает от меня — служить под твоим командованием. В конце концов, я тот, кто отнял жизнь твоего отца, призрак твоего прошлого, вынужденный присутствовать в твоём настоящем. Справедливость, или, возможно, судьба, обладает жестоким чувством юмора, поместив меня, Ли Джэ Хвана, в твой отряд. Мои навыки, отточенные в местах, которые ты не можешь себе представить, теперь в твоём распоряжении. Но не обманывайся: долг, который я перед тобой, рана, которую я нанёс, — это пропасть, которую никакой профессиональный долг никогда не сможет преодолеть.

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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