The whole situation was overwhelming, but she finally sighed in relief—it was alright for her. If Woojin stayed out of everything and just stopped trying to uncover what Miri was hiding, maybe, just maybe, he could survive. A false hope, indeed. Chizuru knew Woojin far too well—too well for comfort. He was an apex predator, one who could sense things about her that most people wouldn't even notice. Yet even predators have their fates written. She would ensure that Woojin wouldn't uncover her secret—at least, not now.
At first, her feelings toward him had been nothing more than admiration, the kind a fan feels for their favorite character. But now, Woojin meant the world to her. After all, she had spent four years reliving this novel, watching him grow and suffer. It broke her heart to wonder why it always had to be him.
Days passed, and Woojin found nothing—no dirt on Chizuru. How could he? She was a professional midwife at the renowned Seoul National University Hospital. Her records were impeccable, and every patient she worked with described her as a compassionate and gentle person, especially with expecting mothers. Even Woojin couldn't deny how deep Chizuru's kindness ran.
He knew it firsthand—he had been a recipient of it. Woojin remembered clearly how she used to be before his accident. Yes, he had been dating her, feeding off her emotions like a ravenous wolf. She always had raw, unfiltered feelings—easy to tap into. He'd made her laugh, cry, and even stressed her to her limits, yet she never left. He often wondered why.
Woojin knew this whole search was leading nowhere. With a frustrated sigh, he closed his laptop and headed to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. He had other matters to attend to. Ali, his best friend, was stuck on a case, and Woojin often lent a hand. Though he wasn't a detective, his sharp mind and knack for solving puzzles made him invaluable in situations like this.
The case involved four victims: one man and three women. The man, Kim Jimin, was 25 years old and worked as a chef at a restaurant. The three women were all between the ages of 19 and 25. The youngest, Kang Minji, was just 19. A freshman in college, she was the tallest of the three at 5'7" and had curly hair. Minji was also the killer's latest victim.
The second victim, Park Sumin, was 23 years old. She had a stable job as a secretary, stood at 5'5", and had straight hair.
The third victim, Lee Young-mi, was 22 years old. She was a high school graduate, stood at 5'4", and had short hair. Young-mi had been engaged to be married before her untimely death.
One fact was clear: the women had all been raped. However, the man's case didn't fit the pattern—he hadn't been sexually assaulted. Instead, he had been brutally beaten to death.
Woojin froze, his eyes narrowing as he muttered, "What the hell?" He zoomed in on one of the victim's photos and felt a jolt of recognition. There, in a picture from Young-mi's engagement, was a familiar face—Chizuru.
At least he had a lead now, but did it really have to be her? The thought was absurd. Chizuru already knew he had faked his amnesia, and she was clearly hiding something. And now, to find out she was connected to one of the victims? It only deepened the mystery—and his frustration.
He decided to take out his phone and call her. She picked up on the first ring. This was it—he had her cornered, and she would definitely spill. But instead, her calm voice greeted him, "I knew you'd call."
She was good. He had to admit it. Too good. No wonder he'd liked dating her.
"You know what, let's meet... you know where," Woojin said, a smirk playing on his lips. She couldn't see it, but she knew he'd be smirking. She ended the call abruptly.
"Yes! I managed to get his attention!" she exclaimed to herself. But then, a chilling realization dawned. It wasn't a genuine invitation; it was a trick. A manipulative tactic she'd learned in her past life, ironically, from Woojin himself. He seemed to have a knack for identifying and attracting women who were both intelligent and arrogant, only to exploit their confidence.
The usual spot was the cafe where they'd first met in this life, at least. That's where they'd agreed to meet. Chizuru waited a full hour before exiting her building and walking towards the cafe. Of course, he was already there, a table by the window, a book open in front of him.
She walked in, a casual "Hey, Woojin" escaping her lips. He nodded in acknowledgment, a polite "Mhm" the only response. That was Woojin in public: polite, a facade of green flags waving – caring and all that. But Chizuru knew better.
"So you called out for me because of Young Mi?" Chizuru thought of saying, but Woojin spoke for her, his voice a low rumble.
"You knew her, Lee Young Mi, right?"
"I did," she replied, her voice steady. "She was my friend. We'd been friends since high school. I even went to her engagement..."
Woojin cut her off, his "sweet" voice now a chilling parody. "So, who do you think murdered her, Chizuru? Anyone can know of ...."
Chizuru gulped, the air suddenly thick with tension. "It was Kim Jimin," she finally managed, her voice trembling slightly. "He... he had a thing for her. I know it sounds absurd, really absurd, especially since he's dead too. He was the first victim..."
Woojin cut her off again, his voice sharp. "I know it's him, Chizuru. I'm no idiot, and neither are you. It's a shame. You're as good as me with your lies. I preferred it when you used to tell me everything."
Just how much did he remember? She only told him everything in her past lives. His smirk, a chilling predator's grin, revealed all. Chizuru fidgeted with the hem of her skirt, acutely aware of his gaze boring into her. She tried to convince herself it was all her imagination, that 'Everything' he was referring to was just a figure of speech, a convenient metaphor.
Then he said it, his voice a silken caress, "So did you miss me, my number one fan?"