Episode 24 – Ashes & Escape
Morning in Seoul dawned gray and cold, the kind that seeped into your bones. In CHIPER's HQ, the air felt heavier than ever.
The TV on the wall flickered with breaking news:
> "Body found near Han River docks — authorities confirm identity as Lee Sung‑ho, suspected drug dealer and alleged serial rapist. Police are investigating possible gang retaliation…"
The team froze.
Dohee's eyes widened. "That face… Wasn't he—?"
Alex cut in, frowning. "Wasn't he on Minjae's radar?"
Miran stood slightly behind them, her pulse pounding. She'd seen it with her own eyes — the way Minjae had ended that man, brutal and silent. The news didn't know the truth. Only she did.
Kevin's gaze turned cold as steel, a silent realization flashing across his face. He turned to Minjae, who leaned against the wall, smirking like it was a joke.
"Meeting room. Now," Kevin ordered.
The others exchanged uneasy glances, but Kevin didn't wait.
---
In the glass‑walled room, Kevin shut the door, voice low, dangerous.
"You killed him, didn't you?"
Minjae's grin barely faltered. "He was scum, Kevin. You know that."
"That's not the point!" Kevin hissed, fists clenched. "Do you know what could happen if police trace this back? You're not just risking yourself — you're risking all of us."
Minjae's voice dropped to an icy whisper. "Then let them. He deserved worse."
"Damn it, Minjae—" Kevin took a breath, forcing his rage down. "If you do this again, if you go off script, I will stop you myself."
For the first time, something flickered in Minjae's eyes — annoyance? amusement? It was gone as quickly as it came.
"Sure, boss," he said lazily. "Whatever you say."
---
Minutes later, Minjae's phone buzzed:
> Father. Come home. Now.
He didn't sigh or roll his eyes, just pocketed the phone and walked out.
---
The mansion stood at the edge of Seoul — old money and power hidden behind tall gates and manicured hedges.
Minjae entered the grand hall. His father sat at the long table, flanked by suited men with watchful eyes and cold smiles.
One of them raised an eyebrow. "This the son you brag about?"
Minjae met his gaze without blinking.
His father didn't waste words. "Did you do it?"
Minjae tilted his head, insolent even here. "Yes."
The silence cracked like ice. His father rose, walked over, and slapped him — sharp, echoing.
Minjae's jaw tightened, but he didn't look away.
"You little bastard," his father snarled. "Do you realize who that man worked for? If they trace this to you, do you know what it will cost us?"
"He raped girls barely older than Miran," Minjae shot back, voice flat. "If you want to disown me for that, do it."
The room held its breath.
His father's hand curled into a fist, then dropped. "Do something like this again," he said, voice low with fury, "and I swear, I'll send you abroad so fast you won't remember Seoul's air."
Minjae's lip curled faintly. "You'd miss me, Father."
"I'd sleep better," the old man spat, turning away.
The room stayed quiet as Minjae walked out, shoulders loose, gaze unreadable.
---
At HQ that evening, tension still hummed in the air.
But Kevin, voice heavy, finally said, "We all need a break. Before the next case, we leave tomorrow morning for Jeju. Three days. Clear your heads."
The announcement landed like sudden summer rain.
Dohee blinked, surprised. "A… trip?"
"Together?" Guen asked, cautious hope in her tone.
"Yes," Kevin confirmed. "Group trip. Beach, island air — before Seoul eats us alive."
Miran hesitated. "Is it… safe?"
Minjae's low laugh rumbled from behind her. "Don't worry, chemical girl. I'll keep an eye on you."
She flinched at the soft threat in his words, but nobody seemed to notice.
---
That night, the team packed in quiet chaos.
Alex carefully zipped his bag, slipping in a small box — a silver hairpin he'd bought for Dohee.
Guen argued with Kevin over clothes: "I'm telling you, no one wears black suits to the beach!"
"It's not for the beach," he said, expression softer than his words.
Minjae packed only half‑serious: shirts, jeans, a single black suit. And at the last moment, a small velvet pouch — an old family ring he'd once sworn never to wear.
---
The next morning, Jeju Island:
Salt wind kissed their faces as the ferry docked. Guen stepped off first, hair whipping around her shoulders.
"Feels different already," she murmured.
Kevin watched her for a heartbeat longer than he should have, then turned to help Miran with her bag. "You okay?"
"I… yes," she lied.
Minjae's gaze trailed over her — noticing the tightness in her grip, the wary glance in her eyes. His smirk was almost fond. Almost.
---
First day on Jeju:
They explored seaside cliffs, laughter echoing against wind‑carved rocks.
Alex pointed out a distant lighthouse; Dohee teased him for sounding like a tour guide.
Guen, fearless as always, dragged Kevin closer to the cliff's edge for a better view. "Relax," she teased, "if I fall, you'll catch me, right?"
His jaw tightened. "Always."
---
Evening:
Dinner at a local seafood place. Dohee blushed when Alex placed grilled fish on her plate without asking.
Minjae sat close enough to Miran that she could smell the salt in his hair. He leaned over, voice low: "Still afraid of me?"
She stiffened, didn't answer.
His smirk widened, dark amusement in his eyes. "Good."
---
After dinner:
They walked back along the beach. Lanterns bobbed on fishing boats far offshore.
Miran fell behind, her feet sinking into cold sand. The waves whispered secrets she couldn't quite hear.
Minjae slowed to match her pace, shadows hiding half his face. "Tired already?" he drawled.
"No," she lied.
He watched her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes, then looked away.
---
Night:
At the rented villa, laughter spilled from the balcony as Kevin and Alex argued over tomorrow's plan.
Inside, Miran sat on her bed, hugging her knees, heart tangled with dread and something stranger. The thought of Minjae made her chest twist — in fear, and something darker she wouldn't name.
Minjae stood on the balcony, eyes on the moonlit sea. For a breath, his arrogance slipped, replaced by something raw.
Then he turned away. Tomorrow, the pool party — and he'd see how far she'd run before he caught her.
----