Chapter 12

Do You Know Guigamsa?

“Thank you for your hard work.”

From early morning, the area in front of the school was packed to capacity with not only students but also local residents and reporters. Slicing through the crowded onlookers, Jin-tak reached the gymnasium entrance, pulled his detective badge from his inner jacket pocket, and flashed it to the officer blocking the way with a brief greeting.

“Ugh, how horrific.”

Stepping inside the gym, three cold, motionless bodies lying neatly side-by-side met Jin-tak’s eyes.

“Kyaaah—is that guy a cop?” “Are you insane? He’s insanely handsome!”

As the high school girls’ excited voices drifted in from behind the half-closed gym door, Jin-tak immediately sensed Eun-ho’s arrival.

“That bastard should just be a celebrity. Doing things that create such a sense of alienation for a cop like me… you know that?” “What happened here?”

Even Eun-ho, who wouldn’t bat an eye at most brutal crime scenes, looked visibly startled, taken aback by the eerie sight of young students lying side-by-side, frozen and pale.

“Looks like the school security guard found them during his morning shift rounds. The scene is unusually clean, so we’ll need an autopsy for exact details, but we should listen to the medical examiner for the estimated cause of death.” “Why were the kids inside the school gym?”

Having pulled an all-night stakeout to solve a serial home invasion robbery case, Eun-ho had been unable to attend the morning briefing. Jin-tak, who had attended in his place, pulled out a notepad to continue the explanation.

“Well, turns out they went there to practice for a relay race.” “A relay race?”

Jin-tak led Eun-ho past the three bodies toward the far side of the gymnasium as he continued.

“According to the school, the school sports day was moved up from July to early May, so students had started gathering occasionally to practice.”

Arriving in front of the storage room located deep inside the gym, Jin-tak paid no mind to the yellow police tape slapped across the entryway, tearing it aside to step inside. The forensics team, still examining the scene, briefly made way upon Jin-tak and Eun-ho’s appearance. And as they stepped aside, another tragic body was revealed.

“Unlike the three at the gym entrance, this male student was found inside the storage room alone.” “Was he looking around inside the storage room?”

Eun-ho turned his gaze away from Gyeong-chan’s body—lying straight while staring up at the ceiling with no visible external injuries—and slowly surveyed the surrounding environment as he spoke.

“Yeah. He died lying down without a single trace of a struggle or external pressure inside the storage room. It’s bizarre… Why was everyone just lying down?”

At Jin-tak’s answer, noticing the forensics team hinting that further delay was difficult, the two stepped out of the storage room.

“Hello! I’m Heo Su-hwan, a medical examiner with the National Forensic Service!”

For a medical examiner, he looked remarkably young—considerably younger than both Eun-ho and Jin-tak.

Perhaps due to an overwhelming workload, heavy dark circles hung low beneath his black horn-rimmed glasses, contrasting sharply with his pale, translucent skin that looked as though it hadn’t caught a single ray of sunlight. Though his slender build and sunken cheeks gave him a somewhat frail impression, his confident introduction made him look every bit the passionate newcomer entering the workforce.

“Ah, thank you for your hard work. I’m Detective Choi Jin-tak from the Gangnam Police Station, and over here—no, he’s not a celebrity—is Detective Yoo Eun-ho.”

As Jin-tak slipped into his trademark casual banter, Eun-ho’s brow furrowed.

“Wow, totally! When you first walked into the scene, I honestly thought he was a movie actor!”

Failing to pick up on Eun-ho’s icy expression, Su-hwan smiled back at Jin-tak, whose eyes were crinkling like crescent moons.

“Let’s get to work.”

At Eun-ho’s blunt, prickly remark, Su-hwan squared his shoulders and flipped open the document folder he was holding.

“I’ve summarized it roughly by hand. None of the bodies show any visible external trauma, and based on statements that the students were trapped in the gym overnight wearing thin athletic clothes, I’ve assessed the cause of death as acute cardiac arrest brought on by hypothermia.” “Is there no suspicion of foul play at all?”

At Eun-ho’s question, Su-hwan handed over the file folder, pondered for a moment with a serious expression, and replied.

“Well… we’ll only know for sure once the exact circumstances of death are revealed through an autopsy, but in my judgment, it’s about ninety percent certain to be a natural death caused by hypothermia. As you can see, Detective, the scene is immaculately clean—far removed from a typical homicide. And even if they were minors, subduing four high school students simultaneously and murdering them without a single external injury… it’s virtually impossible.”

The medical examiner’s words were undoubtedly sound. Although it was early March, just as the semester had begun, last night had brought an unyielding cold snap, dropping temperatures below freezing by dawn. In particular, the unusual weather marked by pouring rain and fierce thunder and lightning throughout the night had been undeniable.

“Hmm, the autopsy results will be more crucial here than at any other scene.”

Jin-tak spoke as he accepted the file folder handed over by Su-hwan.

“If the cause of death really is hypothermia, it won’t be easy to prove through an autopsy alone either. But if there are no other indications of homicide, hypothermia is practically a certainty.” “We’re pretty stumped ourselves, as this is our first time seeing a scene like this. Anyway, good work.”

Jin-tak bowed politely in courtesy. Having finished discussing the case, Su-hwan regained his characteristic cheerfulness, bowed with a smile, and departed from the gym.

Though the gymnasium remained chaotic with lingering onlookers and ongoing forensic work, a chilling calm settled over the air, bringing with it a disagreeable intuition.

“This case… I have a feeling it’s not going to be easy.”

Jin-tak spoke with a somewhat helpless expression, watching the young bodies wrapped tightly in white sheets being carried out one after another.

“Why didn’t the bereaved families report them missing?”

Eun-ho also spoke, his eyes filled with sorrow as he watched the cold bodies of the young students being carried off without resistance.

“Ha, as ridiculous as it sounds, the only parents who reported it were Ha Dong-jin’s. The officers in charge treated it as a simple runaway case, submitted a news bulletin, and decided to wait until morning.” “How can parents react like that when their children stay out all night without a word?”

As the two stepped out of the gymnasium along with the stretchers, the gathered crowd either covered their mouths in shock or screamed with wide eyes. Reporters, as if waiting for this exact moment, snapped their camera shutters frantically and scrambled into their vehicles to follow the ambulances.

The waiting families, overwhelmed by grief, climbed into the designated ambulances, weeping as if they might pass out. However, one vehicle remained unusually quiet—the one carrying student Park Gyeong-chan, instantly recognizable even rolled tightly in a white sheet thanks to his tall stature.

“Kim Yeon-woo and Choi Ye-ji have been close since middle school, so it seems they often had sleepovers at each other’s houses on weekends. That’s why their parents didn’t think much of it. As for Park Gyeong-chan… with an alcoholic father and a mother who ran away when he was young, it seems he rarely received any attention at home.”

Jin-tak stared at Gyeong-chan’s departing ambulance with a mournful gaze, lighting a cigarette with a bitter sigh. Eun-ho, too, felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness on how to wrap up the case, weighed down by the bizarre, logically inexplicable scene and the premature deaths of four young students.

“You’re the detectives from the Gangnam Police Station, right?”

Right at that moment, a man in his mid-forties—with a broad face, short buzz cut, rough features, and a noticeable dark stubble—approached and whispered in a low voice.

“Huh? No, we’re not.”

Seeing his green field jacket with awkwardly worn sleeves and a rectangular black briefcase slung over one shoulder, Jin-tak immediately guessed the man was a reporter without needing an introduction, tossing out a seamless lie.

“You’re not?”

To the man, Jin-tak looked every bit a detective: a heavily worn black jacket worn like a uniform, unkempt hair that suggested habitual all-nighters, and a deep exhaustion etched into his rough skin. He asked back in total disbelief.

“Do I look like one? Man, you got the wrong guy by a mile. Move along.” “Are you really not detectives?”

Unable to shake his suspicion, the man scanned Jin-tak up and down before shifting his gaze to Eun-ho. Noticeably flinching at a strange sense of contrast between the two, the man paused in thought for a moment before cautiously stepping closer to Jin-tak again.

“Are you his manager by any chance? I cover entertainment news too, so…” “Listen here, pal! We are Violent Crimes detectives. Detectives! He’s a cop, I’m a cop!”

Jin-tak’s face flushed red at the man’s absurd remark as he blurted out an explanation. Normally, Jin-tak would have brushed it off with his usual smooth banter, but starting with Eun-ho’s appearance early that morning, followed by Su-hwan’s comment, and finally capped off by this reporter-like man’s remark, a sensitive nerve hidden deep inside his heart had been thoroughly picked at.

“We haven’t begun our formal investigation regarding the case yet, so there’s nothing to tell you.”

Eun-ho spoke, giving Jin-tak a look of sheer exasperation.

“Ah, I’m Cha Min-gook, a producer at a small internet broadcasting network called Clover. I’m actually producing a documentary right now. By any chance, do you know a temple called ‘Guigamsa’ that I’m currently investigating?” “Guigamsa… I’ve heard that name somewhere.”

Jin-tak muttered, putting the cigarette he was holding back into its pack.

“It’s one of the top five largest and most famous temples in South Korea, so you’ve probably heard of it at least once.”

Min-gook fumbled through his briefcase, pulled out two slightly crumpled business cards, handed them to Jin-tak and Eun-ho respectively, and continued.

“Not long ago, while investigating National Assemblyman Kim Soo-chul’s son’s drunk driving case, I discovered that this temple called ‘Guigamsa’ wields considerable influence and provides backing within political circles.” “Then back at the court…!”

Jin-tak blurted out like a flash of lightning, looking at Eun-ho with wide, startled eyes. Eun-ho, who also vividly remembered the young monk engaged in an unusual conversation that day, nodded silently.

“Are you suggesting it’s connected to this case as well?”

This time, Eun-ho asked Min-gook directly. At Eun-ho’s razor-sharp glare, Min-gook looked excited that someone was actually taking his words seriously, his eyes twinkling as he answered in an elevated voice.

“It’s not certain yet, but I’ve uncovered that ordinary believers inside ‘Guigamsa’ offer massive sums of money as tributes. And to make that money, those ordinary believers resort to committing illegal acts.” “So you’re saying a Guigamsa believer killed these kids?” “Well… the identities of the believers are under strict security, so no one outside verified temple personnel can know. But one thing is for certain: whenever a case is linked to ‘Guigamsa,’ this element is always involved.” “What… what is it?”

Unnerved by Min-gook’s chilling tone and gaze, Jin-tak asked cautiously as the hairs on his neck stood on end.

“It’s… superstition.”