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Chapter 17
The Culprit is Here Now
“D-Detectives! Wait a moment!”
The female student, who had come running at full speed with her long hair fluttering behind her, looked as if she had bolted out the instant the bell rang.
Standing before the two bewildered detectives, she clutched her chest and caught her breath.
“What’s wrong?”
Jin-tak hid his fluster and asked gently.
“Earlier during class, I went to the restroom and happened to overhear what you were talking about in the counseling room. What you said about Ju-gyeong.”
The detectives had just been fretting over how absurdly little information they could find about Seo Ju-gyeong.
So when the name Ju-gyeong came out of the student’s mouth, they were inwardly thrilled by her sudden visit.
“Alright, take your time. Breathe first before you speak.”
Jin-tak gestured downward with both palms, motioning for her to calm down.
Understanding his intent, the girl held her chest and took slow, deliberate breaths, bringing another momentary silence between the three of them.
Once her panting subsided, she finally spoke.
“She said Ju-gyeong was working at a temple called ‘Gwigamsa’.”
It was that word again.
The moment their tangled doubts turned into conviction.
The student’s forehead, visible through the neat part in her long straight hair, was smooth and fair.
With slightly upturned eyes, sparkling dark pupils, a straight nose bridge ending in a rounded tip, and firmly pursed lips, she gave off the air of a female warrior standing on a battlefield.
“Were you close with Ju-gyeong?” “Yes. Ju-gyeong didn’t come to school very often, so I went to her house a few times. I was the class president.”
It was a relief to know that at least someone had kept a warm eye on Ju-gyeong.
Looking at the solemn resolve in the girl’s eyes, Jin-tak thought that perhaps Ju-gyeong’s death truly wasn’t simple.
“She said she worked at the temple to pay off her parents’ debt. She didn’t tell me the details of what she did, but I’m sure it was something she didn’t want to do.”
As the girl’s relatively low voice grew clearer, it carried a firm, grounded weight.
“And back then, I brushed it off… but Ju-gyeong… I mean, Ju-gyeong was…”
Hesitation hung in her voice, laced with sorrow, compassion, and guilt.
When the words rushing up to her throat remained dangerously suspended without crossing her lips, Jin-tak gently patted her shoulder with a soft look in his eyes.
“It’s okay. I’ll uncover the truth. You just need to remember your friend’s memory. I know it hurts.”
At Jin-tak’s words, the girl’s eyes grew red with tears.
And finally, the statement that broke through the wall contained a crucial clue.
“She seemed to know the security guard.” “What? The security guard?”
One year ago.
Amid the stream of students bustling into school, a girl ran with her long straight hair swaying gracefully.
With clear-cut features and a confident, refreshing expression, just looking at her lifted one’s spirits with a burst of bright energy.
“Seo Ju-gyeong! Wait for me!”
A girl with a name tag reading ‘Lee Na-hee’ called out, wrapping her arm around Ju-gyeong’s shoulder.
Compared to Na-hee, Ju-gyeong was a modest girl—much shorter and smaller in stature, with a fair face, delicate features, and hair neatly tied into a single ponytail.
“Ah! Class President, you scared me.” “You skipped school again! I was just so glad to see you today! Was it because of work that you couldn’t make it?”
Na-hee whispered carefully, as if sharing a secret between the two of them.
“Yeah…”
As Ju-gyeong’s head dropped limply, Na-hee’s worried expression faded for a brief moment as she forced a smile and patted Ju-gyeong’s small, fragile shoulder.
“Since you finally came to school today, I’m buying snacks at the canteen! Pick whatever you want.” “Pfft—no way, I’ll pay.” “Nope! I said I’m buying!”
Na-hee and Ju-gyeong bickered back and forth before bursting into laughter.
As spring drew to a close, a gentle breeze swept past the two girls’ soft cheeks, almost like applause for the lovely duo.
“Ah! I’m sorry…”
Right then, someone stepped out and blocked the path of the two girls who were walking while looking at each other.
It was the school security guard wearing a blue uniform shirt.
Instinctively apologizing for her own carelessness that had nearly caused a collision, Na-hee looked up at the guard.
Under the navy blue cap pulled low over his eyes, only his tightly shut mouth was visible.
“So you came to school today.”
A dry voice spilled from the guard’s thin, wrinkled lips.
Though his eyes couldn’t be seen, he was unmistakably addressing Ju-gyeong.
Ju-gyeong stood frozen in a tense standoff with the guard, her face turned pale and rigid.
“Ju-gyeong, let’s go.”
Sensing the unusual tension between them, Na-hee took Ju-gyeong’s hand and led her away.
Only after being dragged a considerable distance away from the guard did Ju-gyeong finally let out a sharp breath, as if she could breathe again.
“Do you know the security guard?” “Why?”
When Na-hee asked with concern, Ju-gyeong retorted a bit sharply.
“No, I mean… just now, the security guard said to you…” “What about it? Can’t he just say hi since I haven’t been to school in a while?”
Ju-gyeong’s increasingly sharp gaze and tone shot straight at Na-hee.
“Besides, he might not have even been talking to me. Why do you assume it was me?” “Ah… sorry… I asked without thinking. I’m sorry.”
The situation ended with Na-hee apologizing to soothe the growingly agitated Ju-gyeong, but Na-hee didn’t miss the tears gathering in the corners of Ju-gyeong’s eyes as she hurriedly walked away, engraving the memory in her mind.
“Yes. She didn’t tell me the details about the security guard, but it seemed like they had some unspoken history. I’m sure of it!”
The detectives had already planned to question the security guard who was on duty that night, but learning that he knew Seo Ju-gyeong was an unexpected and critical piece of information.
Seeing Jin-tak and Eun-ho exchange silent signals with a look, Na-hee continued with an even more desperate gaze.
“And the day Ju-gyeong died was that very day she came to school after a long time.” “Hmm. Was there anything else strange about that day?”
Jin-tak pulled out a notebook from his back pocket and began jotting down notes.
Eun-ho also crossed his arms and quietly observed Na-hee, looking ready to listen seriously.
Reassured that the two detectives trusted her story, Na-hee went on.
“Everything about that day was strange. I felt a bit uncomfortable because of the security guard in the morning, but after 1st period, Ju-gyeong apologized to me right away. She said she had just been overly sensitive…” “And then?”
Eun-ho’s low voice echoed through the hallway that had fallen silent again, and Na-hee barely managed to answer through her trembling breath.
“She promised to go out and hang out with me over the weekend. There is absolutely no way Ju-gyeong would have committed suicide that day!”
Na-hee’s lips trembled violently.
“Ju-gyeong’s parents… her homeroom teacher… even the police! No matter how much I told them, no one would listen.”
She lifted her deep, double-eyelid-less eyes and stared straight at Jin-tak. Her gaze held an unmistakable desperation.
“Detective, Ju-gyeong didn’t commit suicide!”
“Nobody’s around… Go!”
In a quiet alleyway with only an occasional passerby.
After hiding around the corner of a building and confirming the coast was clear, Mi-so signaled to Young-a hiding behind her.
With serious expressions, the two walked briskly into the building and went up the freezing cold staircase.
“Unni, the door is fixed!”
Surprised, Young-a shouted out loud before she could stop herself.
The place they arrived at was the [Superstition Research Institute], where they had returned.
Just a few months ago, the man scammed by the Madame had definitely broken down the door when he barged in, but the door in front of Mi-so was completely different now.
The tattered blue iron door had been replaced with a white aluminum one, and the rusted keyhole was now a digital door lock.
“Shh.”
Mi-so was just as bewildered.
In an instant, confusion and tension washed over her, turning her hands and feet ice-cold.
This building was the only asset left behind by her grandmother for her late father.
So who on earth had repaired the door without Mi-so’s permission?
“We need to figure out the passcode.” “How are we supposed to do that? Let’s just go back. What if that scary ahjussi put it up on his own to get his money back?” “What kind of crazy guy who’s trying to collect a debt would upgrade the door to a nicer one and even install a digital lock?”
Mi-so’s logic was undeniable.
“That… you’re right.” “Wait a sec. I think I know the passcode.”
It sounded incomprehensible, but Young-a took a step back and quietly watched Mi-so.
Beep-beep-beep-beep—BZZT—
Hoping against hope, she tried her own birthday first, but as expected, it was wrong.
A dry lump swallowed hard down her throat.
Next, she tried a few plausible numbers, but the stubborn door remained firmly shut, sounding a warning chime as if telling them to give up and turn around.
‘Grandma’s birthday?’
‘Dad’s… date of passing?’
As Mi-so’s face grew increasingly anxious, a cold aura settled over her that was rarely seen.
Sensing her mood, Young-a held her small breath even tighter.
“Could it be…?”
Deep in thought, Mi-so let out a small murmur and tapped the toe of her shoe against the floor.
It was a habit that popped up whenever she felt uneasy; the quiet building corridor echoed with the friction of her sneaker toe tapping the ground.
“Unni, are you okay?”
Observing her flushed expression, Young-a asked cautiously.
Brought back from her unfiltered thoughts by Young-a’s worried check-in, Mi-so composed her face and nodded.
Promptly resolving herself, the tips of her fingers trembled with desperation as she punched in the numbers.
“Please. Please!”
Young-a also clasped her hands together in earnest prayer, and as if their combined wish had reached through, the harsh warning sound turned into a cheerful chime as the door unlocked.
“No way! How did you get it right? What was the passcode?”
Excited, Young-a rushed into the office, showering her with questions.
“0423. The day my mom left me.”
Unlike the thrilled Young-a, Mi-so answered in a low, somewhat sorrowful voice.
“What? How could that scary ahjussi know that date?!” “Young-a, like I said earlier, what kind of crazy person would kindly do this for us…”
Stepping inside the office, they saw that not only the door, but the chaotic, messy interior had also been neatly organized.
Mi-so stood still, slowly surveying the room with her rapidly darting eyes, while Young-a ran over to the desk she always occupied to check thoroughly if anything was missing.
“Who on earth did this? Whoever it is, aren’t they an amazingly nice person?” “No, absolutely not.” “Huh? You sound like you know who it is.”
Young-a, who had been leaning over to inspect the desk, snapped her head up with wide, sparkling eyes.
“Yeah. Because the culprit is in my room right now.”
