We went to Mr. Choi's office the next morning. The building sat quietly on the edge of Namhae-dong, one of those forgettable concrete blocks lost in Seoul's endless gray maze. The air inside was stale—like no one had dared to breathe in there since the day he vanished.
His desk was a mess. Coffee stains, sticky notes in crooked Hangul, a cold ashtray. Like he'd left in a rush. Or hadn't planned to return at all.
Detective Kang Do-hyun tapped a locked drawer.
"Sealed tight."
I knelt beside it and ran my fingers along the underside. Click.
"A false base." I pulled gently. Something shifted.
Inside was a thick manila envelope—pages filled with notes, receipts, and surveillance photos. Mr. Choi had been tracking something… or someone.
A red-marked heading stood out:
> "Case Study: Organization Xcrast – Distribution Flow"
He wasn't just snooping. He was building a case.
His notes revealed that Xcrast, an illegal drug syndicate, had seen explosive growth—doubling sales in under six months. They were using blockchain laundering, offshore dummy firms, and Seoul's nightlife as key routes. Several clubs were marked as 'suspicious.'
One name was circled:
"Club Nebula – Hwayang-gu."
A glamorous lounge bar known for loud music, whispered deals, and patrons with too much perfume and too little conscience.
Kang whistled under his breath. "Looks like Choi was tailing someone close to their core network."
I flipped another page.
"He planned to go there last Friday."
The same night he disappeared.
I turned to Kang.
"We're going to Club Nebula. Tonight."In our team—apart from me, the so-called errand girl—we had three senior members:
Detective Han Dae-sik – my immediate superior, a grumpy chain-smoker with a brain sharper than a scalpel.
Lieutenant Park Ji-hoon – tech expert, quiet, always typing something that looks like the Matrix.
Sergeant Min Seo-ryu – ex-Narcotics, bold, sarcastic, and possibly allergic to sleep.
We were going in as a fake VIP group.
Me? I had to blend in as a party girl.
So yes, I dressed up. Crop top, heels, makeup sharp enough to cut glass. I looked good—objectively good.
And then it hit me.
Right before stepping out of the mirror frame, I muttered:
> "Wow… I really don't have a boyfriend, huh?"
Whatever. I adjusted my earrings like a boss and left.
Next stop?
Club Nebula.
And if Xcrast was running anything illegal there—we'd find it. Even if I had to fake a smile and dance next to drug lords all night.
We split up to scan the club for the guy in the photo. The place was packed—flashing lights, thudding bass, and people high on more than just the music.
Then I spotted him.
Black leather jacket. Narrow eyes. Same sneer as in the file photo. He looked around once—paranoid—and slipped into a room at the back. Red curtains. Heavy smoke. Laughter.
Definitely that kind of room.
I followed. No hesitation. No backup. Just me and my heels clicking on the floor like I owned the place.
Inside, the air was thick—perfume, smoke, and something chemical. Girls lounging around like bored cats. Men drinking with lazy grins.
Then him.
Sitting dead center on a velvet sofa, elbows resting, legs crossed, like the room was his kingdom.
And god—
> He was a walking sin.
Black hair—smooth, tousled like he just woke up flawless.
Blue eyes. Cold, clear, and completely out of place in this grimy world. Like a glacier hiding a fire.
Blue eyes?
I blinked.
Wait a minute… isn't that…
> "No," I whispered to myself, "Choi Kang-dae is not here".
Still. That face. That gaze. That same unsettling calm.
I shook my head.
> "It's not like he's the only one born with blue eyes."
I tore my eyes away from the blue-eyed man.
Focus.
We were here for someone else—the man in the photo.
And there he was, standing near the bar, swaying slightly. He was looking straight at me now, a slow grin spreading across his face.
Wait—was he… gesturing for me to come over?
His eyes were hazy. His movements too casual.
Was he drunk?
No—was he mistaking me for—
> "Ugh."
I turned to leave, pushing through the crowd. But before I could step out of the room, I felt someone behind me.
He followed me out.
Just as I reached for his wrist to stop him, a blur of motion passed me.
A fist connected with the man's jaw—hard.
He dropped to the ground like a sack of bricks.
I turned, stunned.
It was the blue-eyed guy.
Still calm. Still sharp. A faint smirk playing on his lips.
> "Choi Kang-dae," I blurted.
His brows lifted in amusement.
> "Huh… first time a girl's ever greeted me with a name and a punch."
He laughed lightly, voice low and lazy.
> "My face isn't something people usually confuse."
Cocky jerk.
> "What a jerk," slipped out before I could stop myself.
His smile didn't fade.
But I frowned.
That can't be Choi Kang-dae.
The boy I knew was soft-spoken, kind.
Not… this smug, too-good-for-you type.
No.
It couldn't be him.
I left him behind and hurried toward the exit, annoyed that I had missed the chance because of a jerk. Just as I stepped forward, I saw Senior Han Dae-sik and Detective Seo-Ryu already pinning down the man from the photo. Wow—they moved fast. All that effort of mine, and I lost my shot.
As I was about to walk away, I felt a firm grip on my wrist.
"You should probably say sorry to me," the blue-eyed man said with a playful smirk, "and compensate for punching this handsome face of mine."
I blinked at him, then chuckled. "Then you shouldn't have startled me."
"I was just going to the bathroom, you know," he added, nodding behind him.
I turned my head—and there it was. A sign pointing right to the restroom. Crap.
"Sorry about that," I muttered reluctantly.
He extended his arm smoothly. "Hello, Miss Beautiful. My name is Joon Seo-hyun."
I shook his hand out of courtesy, forcing a polite smile. "That's a good name. Now, can I go?"
He didn't let go. "As compensation, at least tell me your name."
I raised an eyebrow. "I don't have a name. Now would you please let go of my hand?"
Before he could reply, Detective Seo-Ryu called out, "Ji-ah, if you're done flirting, we're heading out."
"Ji-ah," the blue-eyed man repeated, smiling wider. "Now that's a pretty name."