Chapter 26

How could Victoria Han know that much?

The question didn’t stay with Kangho Yang for long.
He already knew.
The club manager.

Either the obnoxious brat had ignored his warning, or Yang had given it too late. But the article suggested something worse. She seemed to know about the hole in GU headquarters too.

Did she? Was her father the only thing stopping her from going to print? If that story ever broke, he wouldn’t be lead detective on this case for much longer.

Yang pursed his lips as he looked down at the notes spread across his desk. For now, what Miss Han knew didn’t matter. The chief’s rage was already on the horizon, charging toward him like a runaway juggernaut, and there was nothing to do but brace for impact. There was no point taking his frustration out on a journalist, or a nightclub manager.

And besides, to his annoyance, he found himself agreeing with her.

She was right. They were clueless.

But she was wrong about one thing.

This wasn’t a man taunting the police. These crimes weren’t exposing police incompetence. They exposed the failures of other institutions. GU’s wall had been breached because nobody imagined someone would attack a skyscraper with a hammer. The gallery’s security had failed because nobody thought to protect a single wire on a public street. Ellui had failed because greed had been mistaken for exclusivity. Privacy had become vulnerability. Yang’s instinct told him the police were not the target. If anything, the man feared them. He had left no DNA. He had avoided every meaningful CCTV angle. Even at Ellui, he appeared only when he had to—fleeting glimpses of a tall man in a ridiculous mask. There was footage of him leaving the booths. None of him leaving the club as he had vanished into the dance floor, and then into nothing.

Yang found himself wondering if the man had danced. Had he celebrated? Had he laughed?

And to his discomfort, he realised something else. He admired him.

Not one person had been hurt. Only institutions. Only people wealthy enough to repair the damage. Yang shook his head. Admiration didn’t matter. The man had broken the law. And besides, this was far more interesting than pretending to hunt pimps. This was real detective work.

He looked down at the cacophony of photographs, print outs, and notes.

He scribbled on a Seoul Police issue notepad.

SMART
PATIENT
RICH?
STRONG
TALL
FOREIGNER?
FRANKENSTEIN

He stared at the words.

Nothing. He needed a link beyond the holes.

The victims? The places? The motive?

He added to his list.
FAST
DECADENT

Still nothing.

What connected them?

One hole. Then forty-eight. Then three.

Not exactly the Fibonacci sequence. All south of the Han River.

PLANNED.
DELIBERATE.

The gallery cable. The nightclub booths. GU’s wall.

This wasn’t improvisation. He'd done his research.

PREPARED.

PATIENT

Yang looked back at Victoria’s article. She was right about another thing. There would be another crime.

And for the first time…

He realised he wanted it to happen.