Chapter  14

When Coincidences Continue, It Becomes Destiny

The guardhouse was modest, fitting for its cramped space. Under a full-glass window sat a desk and chair for taking care of work, and toward the back door, a folding bed for sitting or resting and a steel table—mostly used for meals, it seemed—were all that filled the room.

The moment he stepped inside, the security guard opened a small window to ventilate the area and cleared the source of the pungent smell—a yellow nickel-silver pot—off the table, putting it away into the makeshift sink next to the desk.

“Not much to see, heh, it’s a modest place to work. Please, sit here for a moment. Detective, can I get you something to drink…?”

After guiding Eun-ho to sit on the folding bed—the only real space to sit—the guard, looking slightly flustered by the unexpected guest, threw off his cap. He pulled a glass bottle of orange-flavored drink out of the refrigerator and set it down on the table.

“Thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”

Eun-ho politely accepted the drink and downed it in one go. Looking satisfied with the sight, the guard flashed a pleased expression and took a seat himself on a steel chair in front of the desk.

“Do the two of you cover day and night shifts in rotation?” “Yes, but since we need to rest on weekends too, we take turns working full 24-hour shifts on weekends.” “So, were you on day shift yesterday?” “Yes, yes, that’s right. I only work days, so that… Mr. Park, he’s the one in charge of nights. Between us, we just call each other by surname, so I don’t really know his full name. It’s Mr. Park at night, Mr. Jang during the day. Heh heh.”

Indirectly revealing his own surname as Jang, the guard scratched his scalp, where age had ruthlessly exposed his thinning hair like tree rings, and chuckled awkwardly.

“I see. What time is the shift change?” “Around 8 PM. When I come back from the evening patrol then, Mr. Park is already here for work.” “Did you know the kids were in the gymnasium last night?” “No, when I went on patrol before off-duty, there was definitely no one in the gym. I have no idea how this happened; when I came on shift this morning and opened it up, I thought lightning had struck out of nowhere. Just thinking about it again makes my heart go thump—thump—goodness.”

Security Guard Jang placed a hand over his chest with a rigid expression. He was the first witness who had opened the gym door after taking over the shift early this morning, discovered the scene, and reported it. Jang turned ghost-white as the terrifying scene resurfaced in his mind.

“Then, the kids either went to the gym through Mr. Park after your shift ended, or they slipped in without the guards noticing.” “They probably slipped in secretly. Normally, even if they practice for sports day, they do it during lunch break, PE class, or right after dinner. No kids practice late at night after 10 PM, and the school wouldn’t allow it anyway.”

Eun-ho lowered his sharp eyes, lost in thought. Listening carefully to Security Guard Jang’s account, the reason behind the relay race that Min-gook had mentioned earlier suddenly felt strangely crucial.

“Mr. Park probably didn’t dream in a million years that the students were inside the gym all night either…”

As if he had given all the answers he needed to, Security Guard Jang stood up and pulled his cap back on. Eun-ho also reached the conclusion that it was important to examine the case more thoroughly starting from suspicions of foul play.

Standing up to exchange simple farewells, Eun-ho left the guardhouse and turned his gaze back toward the gymnasium.

Four cold, lifeless bodies. It was too bizarre to be a simple murder, yet one single thing nagged at his mind to call it a natural death. Coincidentally, that thing was superstition.

“I’ve returned from the scene at Wiam High School.”

Returning to the Gangnam Police Station, Eun-ho had barely sat down when he ran into Sang-moon, prompting him to stand right back up as he spoke. With the Wiam High School case already loudly reported in the news, it was bound to draw intense focus among the detectives.

“I heard the breakdown during the morning meeting. Four students died, you say? How’s the scene looking?”

Sang-moon slumped into Jin-tak’s adjacent chair, crossing his legs. Eun-ho always disliked his slacking posture, but he tried hard not to let it show.

“Since the gym is quite large, the forensic examination will likely take several days. We prioritized the autopsies, and the medical examiner says hypothermia is highly probable.”

Eun-ho answered while turning on his computer power, without even looking at Sang-moon facing him.

“Man, they froze to death? Tsk, tsk… Then why send them for autopsies instead of just wrapping it up roughly as an accidental death?”

“It is merely the medical examiner’s opinion, and the bereaved families want to know the exact cause of death. Furthermore, this is not a case to wrap up roughly as a simple accident.”

It was a response typical of Eun-ho. With no eyewitnesses, no CCTV, and even all the people present at the scene deceased, there was no way to know the circumstances of that night. Yet, if there was a hidden truth to uncover, one had to pursue it relentlessly.

Knowing Eun-ho’s razor-sharp nature despite being his superior, Sang-moon didn’t press the conversation any further.

“By the way, where did your ball and chain go that you came in alone?”

The “ball and chain” here undoubtedly referred to Jin-tak. Only then realizing Jin-tak’s absence, Eun-ho raised his head—which had been focused on the monitor to organize scene records—with a sudden jolt.

Vzzzzing—

Right at that moment, Eun-ho’s cell phone began vibrating frantically. Checking the phone on his desk immediately, his gaze turned as unfiltered and frosty as midwinter frost. Because the caller was none other than Jin-tak, whom he had just been thinking about.

“Ah, right, take care of your work—I should get started on mine too.”

Reading Eun-ho’s icy glare, Sang-moon tactfully stood up and returned to his own desk. Sensative to the shift in atmosphere, the other detectives also retreated to their respective spots, leaving the usually chaotic office oddly quiet like a lake at early dawn.

And like a small pebble disrupting the surface of a calm lake—small in size, yet exerting a massive impact across the entire water—Eun-ho’s voice dropped abruptly.

“Choi Jin-tak, where are you?”

It was precariously tense, like thin ice. The office had grown so quiet that Jin-tak’s voice over the phone was fully audible.

‘Hey! Eun-ho, I came to grab food with Ms. Miso and Ms. Young-ah! Hurry up and come over too. I’m hanging up!‘

His hand frozen, unable to put down the abruptly disconnected phone, began to tremble. And his Adam’s apple, resting firmly on his smooth neckline, churned along with his forced-down rage.

“I am stepping out again.”

Eun-ho spoke without even looking at Sang-moon sitting next to him.

“Huh? Wh-Where to?”

When a flustered Sang-moon stuttered, Eun-ho’s deadly glare finally snapped toward him. The fellow detectives seated across scrambled up, making silent gestures toward Sang-moon. Only then did Sang-moon quickly reply:

“Go! Go! Go quickly!”

A red sign reading ‘Briquette Grill’—looking as though it had been settled near Gangnam Police Station for a long time—hung faded and weathered by time. Arriving at the spot, Eun-ho pulled open the glass door of the restaurant and stepped inside.

“Hey—Eun-ho, over here!”

Inside the restaurant filled with murky briquette smoke, people sat packed around circular stainless-steel tables.

“See, I told you! Even if we don’t name the spot, whenever we say we’re out to eat, it’s always here!”

Beside a thrilled Jin-tak, an still-icy Eun-ho took a seat. Miso and Young-ah were also seated in the circular arrangement.

“Hello, Detective! Come to think of it, I think this is our first proper greeting! I was unconscious all the time, after all.”

Young-ah greeted Eun-ho cheerfully. Eun-ho, who had been glaring at Jin-tak, maintained his manners and acknowledged Young-ah with a brief nod.

“It’s been a while, Detective Yoo Eun-ho.”

Miso, still holding a bit of a grudge over what happened at the hospital, delivered her greeting with a slightly reluctant tone and emphasized words.

Eun-ho, having fixed the perception of Miso as a ‘strange woman who chases superstitions,’ didn’t greet her warmly either.

It was a moment where a subtle tension flared between the two. And Jin-tak, who was a master at reading the room, quickly brought up a topic.

“Now, now, they say when coincidences continue, it’s destiny! The four of us gathering like this over and over must be fate, right? Let’s have a toast.”

Jin-tak filled Eun-ho’s glass and raised his own. Miso also raised her glass with a lukewarm expression, and an ever-bright Young-ah—since alcohol was still out of the question—raised her glass filled with clear soda high into the air.

“Alright, cheers!” “Clink!”

Along with Jin-tak and Young-ah’s ringing shouts, the four glasses finally collided all at once.

“Then, we shall begin the evening chanting.”

Flawless, smooth skin, a slender jawline leading up to neat lips and a straight nose, sharply defined double eyelids, and dark eyebrows—his face was young and impeccably refined without a single flaw. Soon, a soft voice filled the main hall, blending with the bitter scent of burning incense.

Those following him bowed to begin their prostrations, and further back, standing stock-still outside the wide-open doors, was Min-gook, watching the chanting monk with his eyes closed.

“Thank you for your hard work today, everyone. May you all attain Buddhahood.”

Ending the chanting, the monk stood up and began seeing people off. After carefully seeing off a considerable crowd one by one, the darkened outside and a quiet stillness took over in their place.

“For what business have you come, sir standing over there?”

The monk asked toward Min-gook, who had kept his distance from the crowd. Flinching at the tone that implied the monk had been aware of his presence from the very beginning, Min-gook tried to hide his flustered expression, steadying his brow.

“You are Mr. Baek Yi-hyun, correct?” “Yes, that is correct.”

Even when Min-gook blurted out the monk’s secular name without warning, his completely unperturbed demeanor felt somewhat intimidating.

“I have come regarding the recent fatal incident at Wiam High School.” “The outside wind is cold. Please, come inside.”

Thus, led inside along with the chilly breeze, Min-gook began his conversation with Yi-hyun.