Chapter Text
Sunday, October 15, 20XX. 12:01 PM. Undisclosed Location, Seoul.
Kwon Jiyong sighed as he sat down at his desk, coffee in hand, and opened the lid of his laptop.
“Gracie, please tell me my schedule for today,” He said, dripping with routine. The computer in front of him sparked to life, a bright humming sound filling the small office. He waited patiently for the screen to brighten, and blinked. His breath caught in his throat as he read the message on the screen in front of him.
Only one meeting today, sir:
3:05 pm, Sun, October 15 -- In Person meeting with Yo|NJD54KSHF>>!d Ndy6][d Kao] hsyfy aDG’[}+AH ?!????
That’s weird, he thought bitterly, and closed the laptop with a heavy sigh.
At 3:04 pm, Jiyong held his breath as he stood before the doors, six of his best agents and soldiers up against each wall. His heart pulsed anxiously in his chest, sending shocks of anxiety through his veins, but he kept a straight face, blank eyes, and lips pressed into a thin line. He couldn’t let whoever was about to see him notice his anxiety and more importantly, he couldn’t let the agents around him—his team, his friends, the people he considered his kids—witness his nervousness either. His sweaty palms grasped at nothing and he took a moment to remind himself of the glock strapped to the back of his leg, hidden by his trench coat. He dearly hoped it wouldn’t be needed.
The doors slid open.
Jiyong’s lips parted in shock. He heard gasps and murmurs around the room as his agents took in who they were seeing. He blinked, wanting to make sure he was seeing right.
Before Jiyong stood a man he hadn’t seen in three years, a man no one had heard from at all in the time following Diablo’s death. Before him stood a man who was strong, full, warmed by the gift of parenthood, rounded by hugging and holding the two he loved the most in the world, and softened by the gift of pure, innocent love of a child who knew no better. His cheeks were full and red, his black hair thick and wavy on his head, his skin was smoothed by the gentle touch of a little girl and the loving electricity of his other half, his one true love, the man he’d loved and married years and years ago.
Before him stood a man whose tender gaze was weighted by a force that tugged on his happiness and security, whose eyes crinkled with age, age that had come too soon. Kihyun’s heartstrings had been wrenched and tugged on by a burden so heavy, so thick and slimy, and it left Jiyong breathless.
“Kihyun,” Jiyong found himself saying, with a soft smile, because this was a man he’d known since he was young, orphaned and scared but with a fire that refused to flicker and die. “What a surprise.”
“It’s been a long time, boss,” Kihyun smiled wearily, then dipped forwards in a deep bow. When he righted himself again, his lips twisted into a more genuine smile, a smile that ripped at Jiyong’s chest because, God, he’d missed that smile.
“Your daughter, she must be eight by now, hm?” Jiyong asked, relaxing a little bit as Kihyun stepped forwards to shake his hand.
He fought back a wince. Why the hell was Kihyun shaking his hand? This was Kihyun, who he’d raised and turned from a calloused, traumatized orphan into a killing machine, a shadowed assassin who could take a life without even blinking and be back at home in time to sing his child to sleep. Kihyun, a killer for hire who still had the capacity to love and care and feel, was shaking his hand as though they were business partners and not brothers, not family.
Business partners. The words echoed sourly in his mouth, tasted bitter on his tongue.
“Yes. She turned eight last May,” Kihyun’s smile fell suddenly and Jiyong almost jumped forwards as if he could catch it, bring it back, reel it back onto his face like a fishing line with its hook snagged through the soft flesh of a fish’s lips. “She's, um, fallen very ill.” He wrung his hands, hunching over himself anxiously. "H-Hyunwoo-hyung and I had to take her to the hospital a few hours ago."
“Ill, how…?”
Kihyun looked back at Jiyong, and Jiyong felt as though he’d been kicked in the chest. His brown eyes held the warmth of a father who loves his daughter so much, the eyes that gazed upon a life so innocent, so gentle, so blissful and young and naive. But now those brown eyes held pain and baggage and anxiety and desperation that Jiyong felt no parent ever deserved to suffer. His eyes were tired and red. He looked like he was barely holding himself together.
“I think someone poisoned her.”
The words sent a shock of cold ice up Jiyong’s spine.
“Poisoned? Why?” Jiyong said, leading Kihyun to his desk, where the younger only paced a nervous hole in the floor that only deepened with his cloaked stare.
“We have been… receiving threats,” Kihyun said slowly, and Jiyong’s heart rate spiked. “Threats to me, threats to Hyunwoo, threats to.. Chaemin. Threats to her life, her health…They tell us to stay out of everything. But we don't understand what 'everything' is supposed to mean."
Jiyong blinked, and then Kihyun was on his knees before him, hands clasped above his head. Jiyong took a shaky step back, horrified at the sight of someone so strong forced to kneel.
“I know it’s been years, I know I have done nothing to keep in contact with you and my work, and I know I don’t deserve any of your sympathy or help. Three years ago you told Hyunwoo and me to finish our work, to focus on the journey of parenthood and the life we created and I did it because I knew you were right. Hyunwoo was angry but we did it and Chaemin is my life, I’ll sacrifice anything for her. Please allow me to be a little selfish, Jiyong,” Kihyun kept his head bowed with his hands linked above his hair, but Jiyong could see shiny tears begin to sparkle on the floor. “I know this is emotional blackmail and I will forever hate myself for it but I am so scared, Jiyong. Hyunwoo and I have never felt fear like this. It doesn’t bring us any pleasure to drag you into our private lives or to pull ourselves back into this life but please, please, I beg of you, Jiyong, help me protect my child.”
Jiyong watched with wide, horrified eyes because Kihyun shouldn’t be like this—sobbing on his knees, hands shaking and white from where they’re clasped in prayer above him, begging him for his help. Kihyun shouldn’t be begging—not for this, not for anything—but especially not for this. In more than one way, Jiyong saw Kihyun as family—a little brother—and the last thing Jiyong ever wanted to see was this; a broken man desperate to protect someone he loved who hadn’t done anything in her tiny life to deserve any of this. Chaemin was only eight. She’d barely lived long enough to even begin to understand the life Hyunwoo and Kihyun lived before she came alone. Jiyong didn’t wish that kind of horror on anyone, not even his worst enemies.
Jiyong could count on one had the number of times he'd ever actually met Chaemin. Kihyun and Hyunwoo were sharply protective—Minhyuk, Changkyun, Hoseok, Hyungwon and Jooheon were the only members of the agency who were part of her life in any way, and Jiyong didn't blame Kihyun and Hyunwoo for doing that on purpose. But she was the sweetest thing, a true product of two of the best people Jiyong had ever had the pleasure of meeting, training, loving. He looked in her eyes—Hyunwoo's eyes—and saw the flawless, most perfect blend of Kihyun and Hyunwoo; she was someone who felt things deeply, who thought about things curiously, who loved truly and thickly, who was the wonderful result of the faithful and everlasting love of her parents.
He made his decision right then and there. Shaking his head, Jiyong gripped Kihyun’s arms, pulled him back to his feet and tugged the broken man into his arms, letting him cry. Jiyong’s voice came from him next, low and serious, dangerous and cold, but so full of emotion and truth and raw feeling.
“I will do anything it takes.”
Monday, October 16, 20XX. 7:37 AM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul.
“Yo, detective Kim.”
Detective Kim Jennie looked up from staring at her desk at the sound of her name, hurriedly blinking leftover sleep from her eyes. She relaxed a little when she realized it was her partner Lalisa Manoban standing in the doorway to her office, sagged against the doorframe and holding two steaming travel mugs of what Jennie dearly hoped was coffee. Lisa looked exhausted, but Jennie didn’t blame her at all. They were both sleep deprived.
“New case. Murder. Chaeyoung is already out there.” Lisa waltzed into the room and placed one of the mugs on the desk. “Body discovered in the backseat of an old station wagon near the Hexagon Nightclub.”
“Who called it in?” Jennie gratefully took the coffee and again rubbed at her eyes. It was way too early for this.
“You’re not gonna believe me when I tell you,” Lisa’s smirk fell, turning her expression a little more serious. “Lim Changkyun, from Kwon Jiyong’s studio agency.”
“No way.” Shock pooled in Jennie’s stomach.
“Yes way. Said he received an anonymous message to go check out the station wagon. When he got there he found the body and called us.”
“When?”
“Like, one in the morning. First thing I heard when I walked in this morning.”
Well, that would explain why Jennie hadn’t heard about this yet. She'd barely been in her office for twenty minutes. She grimaced to herself at the idea of going into the field at 7 am, but decided it couldn’t be helped despite the lack of sleep she and Lisa were both suffering. She sighed, tossing a lock of dyed brown hair over her shoulder and picking up her coffee cup.
“Let’s go, then. Rosie will kill us both if we don’t head out there sooner rather than later.”
Monday, October 16, 20XX. 8:19 AM. Hexagon Nightclub, Hannam-dong, Seoul.
“Ah, detective,” Doctor Park Chaeyoung’s voice sang from somewhere to Jennie’sleft almost immediately after she got out of her police cruiser. She turned to see the doctor strolling towards her, black hair tied into a stringent bun on the crown of her head and something brownish-red coating the white latex on her hands.
“Good morning, doctor,” Jennie said with a smile.
She liked having the opportunity to talk to Chaeyoung—it wasn’t like she saw her very often. They were close friends, but Chaeyoung preferred field work rather than in a lab, and Jennei wasn’t always called out into the field to inspect murders. Now that she had advanced enough in the ranks of homicide investigation, she was usually given cases in the comfort of her own office, and the bodies were brought to her head pathologist instead of forcing the entire team to leave the station. It was refreshing to be outside and see Chaeyoung working so diligently as she always did, despite the grim reason they were there in the first place.
“What are we looking at?” Lisa asked, sliding up behind Jennie.
Chaeyoung turned back to the station wagon, tucked away behind a building that had been slowly crumbling away. Jennie inhaled deeply; it was a picturesque crime scene. The car was black, rusted and splattered with blood and some other strange substance that Jennie didn’t really want to try to put a name on. All four tires were flat—slashed—and three out of six windows were shattered completely. Cracks and splinters in the glass webbed across the windshield, and the car doors looked to have been keyed in multiple places.
“Body’s been in there for at least a week. Its decomposition has been kind of slowed down because of the cold but it’s still almost soup. It’s gonna take Jisoo hours to dissect it.” Chaeyoung said, leading the two detectives towards the damaged car. All four doors were open, and as they approached the backseat the corpse came into view, and Jennie felt her stomach jerk.
“Jesus,” Lisa mumbled, and Jennie silently agreed.
The body was a mess of blood and the same dark substance that was dripping from the exterior of the station wagon. Despite the lack of heat, rotted flesh was hanging from bones and a mass of flies buzzed around the corpse. Jennie wrinkled her nose at the stench.
Lisa stretched her arms, showing the bulge of her muscles thickened by years of gym time, and promptly walked away towards the other members of the forensic team. Jennie didn’t blame her—she didn’t think she’d ever get used to death either, and she’d been working for almost ten years in the homicide department. It seemed like every murder was more gruesome than the last.
“I’m actually amazed at the amount of DNA in this vehicle. I’ll tell you one thing, Jennie, this murder wasn’t planned out. It might have even been involuntary manslaughter. We won’t know for sure until Jisoo gets to see it, but this was a messy killing.” Chaeyoung gave the body stretched on the bloodied leather another once over before turning back to Jennie. “We also don’t even know if all the DNA in the car belongs to the body. You see this?”
She pointed to the disgusting unnamed substance that caked the sides of the car. Jennie nodded.
“Feces.”
“Eugh,” Jennie grimaced.
“We’ll need to test to figure out whose it is. But honestly, this crime scene is a bit of a disaster. Jisoo will have a field day with the corpse and it will take us days to finish combing the vehicle for all the prints.”
Jennie didn’t doubt that either.
"License plate has been run. This car was stolen years ago from this same area." Lisa's voice sounded from behind Jennie and she turned to find her partner standing a few feet away from the car.
"That…” Jennie sighed, “doesn’t help anything." Lisa nodded.
"Do you know what else is weird about this area?" Lisa prodded. Jennie cocked her head at Lisa, looked at her questioningly.
"No."
"The school halfway down the block is the school Diablo's body was found in." Lisa said, whispering like she was revealing a deep secret.
That was surprising. Of course Jennie knew who Diablo was—the nameless head of the biggest underground crime syndicate in Seoul, the one who succeeded James W. Fairchild following his disappearance. The knowledge of Diablo's death had spread like wildfire, and the crime rates in Seoul dropped twice as fast nearly immediately.
"Huh," Jennie hummed thoughtfully. Lisa raised her eyebrows and walked away.
Monday, October 16, 20XX. 2:06 PM. Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, Sajik-dong, Seoul.
"Detective Kim."
Jennie flinched, startled, and whipped around in her desk chair. Dr. Kim Jisoo was standing in her doorway, stiff and aloof as usual. Her thinly wired glasses were taped to her face, and she held a stack of four or five papers in both hands.
"Autopsy report?"
The doctor nodded, and floated into the room, placing the report in front of Jennie. The detective felt her eyes widen upon picking it up—the report was a staggering four and a half pages long. It must have taken Jisoo ages to complete the entire autopsy.
"40-something male, a little under 150 pounds. Dead for almost 142 hours upon my dissection. Had the beginnings of meningitis, minor osteoarthritis, and likely suffered chronic shoulder pain due to a stretched brachial plexus in his left shoulder, but something kept him from seeing a doctor. Examination of his genitals revealed he was involved sexually with both genders."
"Anything about alcohol or drugs?"
"Almost no alcohol consumption but a heavy amount of lysergic acid diethylamide—"
"What?"
"LSD," Dr. Kim clarified, annoyed, "among other hallucinogens. He also used benzoylmethylecgonine, cannabis, tramadol, and fentanyl at some point too."
"I have no idea what any of that is."
"Cocaine, marijuana, and various narcotic painkillers."
“Drugs but no alcohol, huh?”
“Tramadol is known to be highly dangerous when taken or mixed with alcohol. It can cause respiratory distress or death. The victim was likely aware of this.”
"But drug use was not the cause of death?"
"No. Blunt force trauma to the head and face and bleeding out from several arterial stab wounds. His skull was fractured in several places, likely with the use of a crowbar or metal pipe. Stab wounds were caused by either a switchblade or a utility knife. Whoever killed this man did it in a frenzy, perhaps out of self defense, and wanted him to suffer a slow, painful death. Several of the tarsals, metatarsals, and phalanges were snapped posthumously, probably due to being shoved into the backseat of a car."
Jennie nodded like she knew what Jisoo was saying, but the doctor was speaking rapidly and using medical terminology the detective wasn't familiar with. Jennie had no idea what a brachial plexus or osteoarthritis was, or what tarsals or metatarsals were, but she saved herself from further irritating the doctor by keeping her mouth shut.
"He was facing whoever killed him, as his face was mutilated and I found some nasal bones piercing his eyes. His autopsy also revealed that this victim was quite strong and muscular and likely able to overpower anyone who tried to attack him frontward. Whoever killed him did it with help; this murder was done by more than one person."
"Did Chaeyoung run his DNA?"
"Yes, but DNA can take up to a week to fully sequence and we might not have anything for him in the system. And identification by facial recognition is not going to work."
Jennie rubbed her eyes.
"How long did the dissection take you?"
"Almost two hours."
"That's it?" Jennie looked up at the doctor in shock. Dr. Kim shrugged.
"I agree with Dr. Park. This murder was messy and not planned out. Even if it had been, I still have my doubts about how thought provoking this case would have been. Besides, my job is the easy part. Your job, detective, is the hardest—finding motive and tracking the killer. Or in this case, killers."
Jennie sometimes forgot just how damn good Jisoo was at what she did. At this point, the young doctor was so good at autopsies and other forensic sciences that she only really was asked to assist in cases that were big or otherwise complex. Chaeyoung and Jisoo were an excellent team; despite their differences, they worked together like magic. Jennie supposed she needed to be more grateful that she had doctors like Chaeyoung and Jisoo on her team.
"Knock, knock." Lisa poked her head into the room.
"Autopsy done?" She asked. Jisoo nodded, and Jennie held out the papers as Lisa approached the desk and sat down on the edge. "Jesus, this is long."
"Messy murder. Probably not planned, likely in self defense. Blunt force trauma and arterial wounds. Male guy in his 40s, he was a druggie who apparently was strong and muscular and killed by at least two people, maybe more." Jennie summarized. Lisa clicked her tongue, flipping through the papers.
"Sheesh. I'll take this to Chaeyoung-unnie," She made to stand, then turned back around. "Oh, I almost forgot to ask. Do you know the names Son Hyunwoo and Yoo Kihyun?"
Jennie sat for a minute, contemplating. They sounded familiar.
"Yes..?" Jennie guessed, looking towards the ceiling in thought. "Didn't they work with Jiyong? Then retired after they had a kid?"
Lisa nodded. "Their kid is, like, eight now."
"Mm. Sounds familiar. Why do you ask?"
"Kid's been poisoned."
"What?" Jennie sat up a little straighter. She glanced around and realized Jisoo had left at some point. She hadn't even seen the doctor leave. Jisoo was a bit like a ghost—cold, silent and graceful, walked almost as if she were levitating. Jennie didn’t think she’d be surprised if Jisoo had actually floated through the wall.
"That's what they think, at least. Which is weird and definitely not a coincidence.”
“Do you know what the kid was poisoned with?”
“No, I don’t. But I think it's linked to this murder."
"How?"
"Dunno. But I was talking to Jiyong over the phone earlier—and you know he’s nothing if not logical, but he is pretty much convinced there's some kind of connection. He specifically asked me and you to keep our eyes open for it. We're supposed to go to his agency tomorrow with Chaeyoung and Jisoo and tell him what we've figured out."
"I think it's a long shot to say a murder of a druggie is linked to the supposed poisoning of an eight year old."
"Regardless, Jiyong wants us to help him. Besides, you forgot the most interesting bit. Yoo Kihyun and Son Hyunwoo are the ones who took down Diablo in that school like half a block away from the nightclub, remember? Doesn't it make sense to you that their kid might be targeted? Maybe by someone who worked for him or loved him or something?"
"I really don't know how Diablo's death, the murder of this guy, and an eight year old being poisoned could possibly all be related, Lisa-yah. We don’t even have the identity of the victim yet. It’s too early to make assumptions."
"There has to be something."
"I wonder if Sanghyuk could tell us anything about this."
Lisa rolled her eyes. "Don't get your hopes up. It's been months since we've heard from him, and you’re the only one who can actually get anything out of him."
"Yeah, but he hangs around that area. He might know what happened and if there's any connection." Jennie chose to ignore the other half of the statement.
"Alright, I'll leave you to go question him. But I actually have to agree with Jiyong, Jennie. This is weird. The daughter of the two guys who killed the biggest underground crime lord since James W. Fairchild has been poisoned. A druggie who hung around the same area as Diablo prior to his death has been brutally murdered. I'm telling you there's something there."
"Okay, okay," Jennie combed a hand through her hair. "I understand your thinking. We'll have to get more evidence. However likely it may be, none of the logic will matter if there's not evidence."
Lisa nodded, and turned back towards the door.
"We'll get these guys," She said as she left. "We'll get to the bottom of what happened."
"Sure hope you're right," Jennie muttered to herself as the door shut with a click.