Seven bodies laid on their backs in the Investigation Bureau’s morgue. They had been lifted off the floor and onto tables with straw mats covering their surfaces. It couldn’t be very comfortable but he supposed the dead had long lost their ability to complain.
The King lit the lanterns above the bodies, and Min-jun glanced up from his survey of one of the victims to give him a pointed gaze.
“I told you I wanted to work alone.”
“You shall,” the King replied, shutting the last lantern closed. “I’m only here to admire your investigative process.” He set the candle he’d used to light the room down on a shelf near the wall. It dripped wax into its metal dish. “I’m sure you have no reason to be so secretive, my love.”
Min-jun answered a second too late, but he let his mistake slide. The King’s suspicions wouldn’t stop him from saving Iseul and his handsome silver-haired companion. “I suppose not.” He straightened, crossing his arms as he glared down at the body. “You were right though. This isn’t a regular death. They have no symptoms of a physical illness or an assault. I’m no doctor but this feels supernatural. Have you identified them?”
“A few had their identification tags on them, and their families have been contacted. If there’s anything suspicious beyond their identities, we’ll find out soon,” the King replied. “The others are still unidentified, but hopefully someone will come searching for them.”
Four men, three women, from different age groups. One of them couldn’t be older than sixteen, full of boyish youth. Another victim appeared to be in her eighties, wearing a kind, grandmotherly face, her hair falling from its neat bun. He found it hard to believe killing a child and the elderly was on Mother’s agenda. The murders must be random then. So far, nothing had either condemned or vindicated Iseul and his partner, and Min-jun wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of his colleagues going around murdering innocents. He’d keep his mind open to other suspects.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“You should speak to them as well,” the King added, as they walked out of the cool morgue and into the main office of the empty bureau. It was just them and the dead bodies here. Fear would’ve clawed at Min-jun if not for the fact that he’d been working with dead bodies for the better part of the last three years.
“Hmm?”
The King shrugged, lifting a hand to demonstrate how obvious his point was. “I’m sure it will be helpful for your investigation if you’re able to question the victims’ families.” He nodded to the guard waiting outside the door. “Just remember to be gentle with them. Death is not an easy pill to swallow, especially for those left behind. I’m sure you, of all people, can understand that.”
Was he being irritating on purpose? “Of course. I’ve done this before. When do you think I’ll be able to meet them?”
“Let’s wait here for a while longer,” the King said, gazing up at the stars. “Hye-jin went to look for them. She’ll be quick about it.” With a sigh, he sat down on the steps. In the short time they’d known each other, Min-jun had never seen him like this: Unkempt, tired, hollowed out with sorrow.
“Are you really so hurt by this?” Min-jun found himself asking.
Silence hung in the air, and for a moment, Min-jun considered taking his question back into the confines of his mind. Then, the King whispered, “Why shouldn’t I be?”
“Is it because they dared to commit murder on your watch?” It must be some sort of twisted result of his pride. Otherwise, it would be completely irrational for the King to behave this way.
“I’m supposed to protect my people,” the King replied. “It’s my duty as their leader. If I forget to grieve them when I fail to ensure their safety, then I’ll forget their value.”
“Will you grieve each death then?” Did you grieve the death of my parents as well? Min-jun hoped not. The King didn’t deserve to grieve them.
In the light of the full moon, the King scrutinized him, violet eyes scanning his face. “I try to.”
“That must be …” He could hardly think of the right word. Something rude, mocking. Something to remind the King of his worthlessness. Instead, all that came to mind was the burden of Min-jun’s own sorrow, forever festering inside of him like an infected wound. Impossible to heal, too precious to cut off. “Exhausting.”
The King’s expression seemed to shift, his lips parting although nothing passed through them, his eyes widening. The moment passed, and the King’s lips formed into a small sliver of a smile, weak and genuine. Min-jun didn’t like that look. He didn’t like it much at all, and so, he turned away from it, looking forward toward the gate that guarded the bureau.
“Have you ever grieved for the people that you’ve investigated?” the King asked.
As if he had to answer that. Min-jun raised his chin, intent on ignoring the King’s request, but he could feel those eyes on him and he couldn’t resist. “No. I haven’t.”
“Your Majesty. Your Highness.” Hye-jin had arrived, and with her, a group of people who worried too much to have accepted a family member’s death. Hye-jin bowed, and her companions kneeled before them.
“Your Majesty,” a middle-aged woman said, not daring to look up. “I am the mother of Byeong-ho, the injured boy in your custody. Please allow us to see our loved ones.”
“Stand,” the King said, standing up as well. “And brace yourselves, please.”
He led them inside. Min-jun watched from the end of the line, as the King opened the doors to the morgue. He’d dealt with grieving families before, but even he couldn’t ready himself for the harrowing screech of the mother as she spotted the corpse of her son.
Inhaling, Min-jun reminded himself of his mother’s words when she had given him tips on proper investigating methods. He couldn’t have been more than ten.
“You can feel as angry or sad as you want, because that will help keep you motivated, but don’t you ever let those emotions get the better of you when you’re on a case. We investigators need to keep our heads on straight. Otherwise …” She had run a finger under her neck, clicking her tongue. Min-jun had mimicked the gesture, certain he’d never become an investigator. Everything had seemed so difficult back then.
Now, he hung back in the corner of the room, listening to the bargaining and the cries and knowing they’d soon turn to him. Deep inside, he could feel that familiar anger simmering.
Iseul. If it is you. Just what in the world are you thinking?
So he is working with murders but still feels it’s justifiable to protect them . Unfortunately it seems 😕 he’s also an hypocrite despite his pain over his mom and dads deaths he goes running around with a murderer. Hmmm