Chereads / The Unknown Vigilante / Chapter 4 - Chapter 3

Chapter 4 - Chapter 3

Ji-hoon's Apartment, 00:07 AM

The silence of the night is broken by the soft click of the lock. Ji-hoon enters his apartment, his figure a shadow against the gloom as he locks the door behind him and moves forward. The digital clock in the kitchen blinks at 00:07 AM. It's been barely thirty minutes since his encounter with Mi-sook.

Without turning on the lights, Ji-hoon heads to his bedroom with measured steps. The impeccably tidy apartment contrasts with the chaos that seethes within. He passes a vase with a perfectly cared-for orchid.

In his bedroom, he activates the hidden mechanism that reveals his secret sanctuary. The door slides soundlessly, as if it understands the need for discretion. Once inside, he closes it and turns on the dim blue light that bathes the room in an ethereal glow.

The antiseptic aroma of the place invades his nostrils, mixing with the metallic smell of blood that still permeates his clothes. Ji-hoon inhales deeply, savoring the mixture as if it were the most exquisite of perfumes.

His eyes scan the walls covered in photos and notes, a macabre mosaic of his "accomplishments." With hands that now tremble slightly, he pulls out the photo he took of Mi-sook. He stares at it for a moment, his face a mask of morbid fascination, before placing it on the board next to his other victims.

Ji-hoon sits in the chair in front of the board, his breathing quickening as memories of the night flood his mind. The terror in Mi-sook's eyes, the cut of the scalpel on his skin, the warm flow of blood… Every detail is vividly reproduced, sending waves of pleasure through his body.

"Ah…" he moans softly, closing his eyes and letting the sensations envelop him. His hands move almost of their own volition, unbuttoning his pants urgently. He begins to caress himself frantically, his body shaking with arousal.

The moans intensify, becoming more animalistic, more uncontrolled. His back arches in the chair, his hips moving rhythmically. The leather creaks under his weight, a counterpoint to his ragged gasps.

"Oh, yes… Mi-sook…" he gasps between moans, his voice hoarse with pleasure. "So… perfect…"

His mind clouds over, lost in the memory of torture and death. Every cut, every muffled cry, every drop of blood becomes a source of perverse ecstasy. Ji-hoon writhes in the chair, his body shaking violently as he reaches his first climax with a gasp.

But he doesn't stop. Barely catching his breath, he continues, his arousal fueled by the sight of his victims' photos. His hand moves faster, his breathing becomes erratic.

"More… I need more…" he growls, his body tensing again. —So much fun… so pleasurable…

With a guttural moan, Ji-hoon climaxes for the second time, his body convulsing in the chair. Panting heavily with a feeling of fullness, as he catches some breath he opens his eyes. There is no shame on his face, only a sick satisfaction and a twisted smile.

He remains motionless for a moment, recovering. The silence of the apartment is broken only by the distant hum of night traffic and the soft ticking of a clock somewhere in the room. Slowly, he stands up and meticulously wipes away any evidence of his ecstasy with a handkerchief, which he then puts away in an airtight bag for later destruction.

Ji-hoon walks over to the stainless steel table on which is the black briefcase containing his utensils. He carefully opens it and takes out the small case he brought with him from his pocket. Opening it, the instruments still stained with Mi-sook's blood gleam in the bluish light.

With methodical movements he takes them out one by one and begins to clean each tool. His hands, which moments before were shaking with pleasure, now move in concentration to clean his tools. The smell of disinfectant mixes with the metallic scent of blood, creating a fragrance that to Ji-hoon is more intoxicating than any perfume.

As he cleans, his mind goes over the events of the night. There is no remorse, only a sense of accomplishment and twisted justice. In his head, he repeats Mo-sook's words of pleading for his miserable life.

He finishes cleaning the instruments and places them back in the briefcase, each in its designated place. He closes the briefcase with a satisfying click and places it in its place on the steel table.

Ji-hoon stops in front of the board once more and stares at the images of his victims. His eyes gleam with a mix of madness and anticipation for his next prey. In his mind, he justifies his actions as an act of social cleansing, but the excitement still coursing through his body reveals the true nature of his motives: twisted pleasure and an insatiable thirst for power over life and death.

He walks over to a small refrigerator in the corner of the room and pulls out a bottle of water. He drinks slowly, savoring the coolness that contrasts with the heat still emanating from his body. His gaze falls on a calendar hanging on the wall. Tomorrow he has a surgery scheduled at 9 AM, eliciting a wry smile from her.

He turns off the light and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. The panel slides silently, once again hiding his true nature behind a seemingly normal wall.

In the darkness of his bedroom, Ji-hoon undresses, folding each item of clothing with precision before putting it in the laundry basket. He showers, the hot water washing away the last physical vestiges of the night, though the sensations and memories remain vividly in his mind.

After the shower, he stands in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. His face shows no signs of recent activity, only the calm serenity of always. He smiles at his reflection, a smile that doesn't reach his cold, calculating eyes, as if practicing his smile for someone, he covers his waist with a towel and walks out with the laundry basket to the laundry room and puts his house clothes, as he calls it, to wash.

Ji-hoon returns to his bedroom and lies down, the high-quality sheets caressing his skin. He closes his eyes, the satisfaction of a dark desire sated mixing with the anticipation of his next act of "justice." His breathing slows, and he soon falls into a deep, undisturbed sleep, as if consciousness can't touch his twisted mind.

Author's note :) I've tried very hard to make it clear how twisted Ji-hoon is, I don't know if I did justice to his madness. What do you think? Leave me your opinion in the comments.

The next day, 8:00 AM, Gangnam Police Station.

The morning sunlight filters through the blinds, casting golden lines across Seo-jun's desk. The young detective is hunched over a stack of reports, a mask of concentration on his face. His eyes, bloodshot from lack of sleep, meticulously scan each page, looking for any detail he might have missed in his investigation into the "Unknown Vigilante."

The silence of the office is abruptly broken when a patrol officer, Lee Jae-sung, bursts into the room. His breathing is labored and his expression urgent, sweat beading on his forehead despite the coolness of the morning.

"Seo-jun!" Jae-sung exclaims, leaning heavily on the detective's desk. His knuckles are white from the force with which he grips the edge of the table. "There's been another murder. Same M.O.."

Seo-jun stands up suddenly, his chair squeaking against the linoleum floor. His eyes, once tired from long hours of studying, are now wide open.

"Where?" he asks, his voice tight as a violin string about to snap.

"In an alley near the Gangnam district," Jae-sung answers, catching his breath. "634-18 Sinsa-dong Street, right behind the Moonlight nightclub. The victim is a woman."

Seo-jun grabs his jacket from the back of his chair and begins to hastily put it on. His movements are quick, almost frantic, but his hands don't shake. Years of training and experience have taught him to remain calm even in the most tense situations.

"Is Detective Kim on his way already?" he asks as he searches for his keys in his desk drawer.

Jae-sung nods, running a hand through his hair damp with sweat. "Yeah, but he's stuck in traffic." He said he'd meet us there.

The two men rush out of the office, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallway like a war drum. As they wait for the elevator, Seo-jun pulls out his phone and quickly dials a number he knows by heart.

"Forensic lab," he says as soon as they answer, his voice firm and professional. "I need you to send your best team to the alley at 634-18 Sinsa-dong Street, near the Moonlight nightclub in Gangnam. Make sure Dr. Kang is present."

The car ride is a blur of sirens and flashing lights. Seo-jun uses every second to mentally review the details of previous cases, to find connections, patterns, anything that might help him anticipate the killer's next move.

When they finally arrive at the crime scene, the alley is already cordoned off, illuminated by the flashing lights of patrol cars. Seo-jun approaches the body with a determined stride, pulling on a mask and disposable gloves with practiced movements. The victim lies in an unnatural position, his pale skin contrasting with the dark asphalt of the blood-stained alley. The metallic smell of blood mixes with the stench of nearby trash, creating a nauseating aroma that Seo-jun has learned to ignore over time.

"It's just like Park Sung-ho's case," Seo-jun tells the officers and coroners surrounding him, his voice muffled by the mask. "Look at this cut on the neck, precise, completely identical to the previous cases. Straight to the carotid artery. We can certainly say that this is his signature."

Jae-sung looks at the marked wound in horror. His face has lost all color, and Seo-jun can see that he is struggling to maintain his composure. It is his first crime scene this brutal, and the detective makes a mental note to talk to him later, make sure he is okay.

The coroner, Dr. Kang, a middle-aged man with thick-framed glasses and a perpetually serious expression, nods as he examines the body. "And that's not all. There are multiple superficial cuts on her arms and hands. It looks like she was tortured before she died, just like Park Sung-ho was. The signs of torture are the same."

Dr. Kang pauses, his gaze methodically scanning the body. "With my years of experience and having had to examine all the victims in this case, I can tell that the perpetrator is sick. I wonder if he has some fetish for torture, since he does it so carefully and patiently."

Seo-jun sighs at the coroner's words, a shiver running down his spine despite the morning heat. He examines the body more closely, his trained eyes taking in every detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem.

"There are no signs of a struggle," he observes, his voice tense with concentration. "The killer must have subdued her with ease."

"It seems that way," Dr. Kang answers, nodding. "I can tell she was conscious while being tortured." Just imagining their screams should have alerted someone, but no one saw or heard anything.

Seo-ju

n frowns, his mind working at full speed. "He looks at these marks around her mouth. He silenced her during the attack."

"Detective Lin," a young officer calls, approaching with a bag of evidence. "We found this in the body's belongings."

Seo-jun takes the bag, examining its contents: a business card. His eyes narrow as he reads the visible letters, the blood-stained paper making it difficult to read.

"…Serenity Beauty unique," ​​he reads aloud. Suddenly, his eyes widen, a spark of recognition igniting in his gaze. "Wait, this reminds me of something…"

With hands slightly shaking from the excitement of the discovery, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out another similar card, the one he found at the Park Sung-ho scene. He places them side by side, his mind working at full speed to connect the dots.

At that moment, the sound of hurried footsteps announces Detective Kim's arrival. The veteran detective arrives panting slightly, his face flushed from exertion and a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

"What do we have?" Kim asks, catching his breath. His eyes, sharp despite his fatigue, quickly scan the scene.

Seo-jun turns to him, showing him the two cards. "I think we've found a connection, Detective. Both victims had the same business card."

Kim frowns, studying the cards intently. His expression suddenly changes, a spark of recognition crossing his weathered face.

He then turns his gaze to the corpse, his eyes narrowing as he examines the victim's face. "I know this victim," he says, his deep voice echoing in the alley. "It's Park Mi-sook. She had connections in the criminal underworld, especially in child trafficking."

The lack of emotion in Kim's voice as he reveals this information surprises Seo-jun. "Wait, she's a trafficker? Why was she free?" "He asks, confusion and a hint of indignation coloring his voice.

Kim shrugs, a gesture that seems out of place given the gravity of the situation. "Don't you know, kid? It's not easy to lock up those with connections, and she did. So…"

Seo-jun nods, a little annoyed by what he just learned. The pity he initially felt for the victim quickly fades, replaced by a complex mix of emotions he can't fully name.

"So does Park Sung-ho," Seo-jun says, his mind racing. "They both had criminal histories involving the exploitation of minors."

Kim nods slowly, his expression turning thoughtful. "It seems so. That means our favorite killer now kills child traffickers. Strange, he changed prey. Before he chose at random, the only thing they had in common was that they were criminals, but now… his methods are changing—two criminals who are dedicated to the same thing, this is the first time."

Seo-jun frowns, processing this new information. "Do you think he's refining his focus? Becoming more… selective?"

"It's possible," Kim replies, scratching his chin. "Or maybe he always had a specific target and we're only now seeing the pattern."

"But why the change now?" Seo-jun asks, more to himself than to Kim. "What's changed?"

Kim shakes his head. "That's the million-dollar question, rookie. And it's what we need to figure out."

Seo-jun turns his attention back to the body, his mind still reeling with the implications of this new development. "Look at these wounds," he continues, pointing to the cuts on the victim's body. "They're extremely precise. Our killer must have medical knowledge."

Kim nods. "Well, now that this theory is more or less confirmed, anything else, rookie?"

"Yes," Seo-jun replies, his voice thick with determination. "There are no fingerprints or DNA from the killer." He's meticulous, careful. He knows what he's doing.

A technician approaches with a preliminary report, interrupting their conversation. "Detectives, we've reviewed the club's security cameras. They caught the victim entering the alley followed by a hooded man, but the hooded man was never seen leaving again."

Detective Kim and Seo-jun are silent for a moment, processing this new information. Finally, Kim speaks, his voice laced with annoyance. "That means he went in another direction. Look for an alternate exit from this alley."

As the officers begin to search, Seo-jun and Kim exchange meaningful glances. "Our killer is smart," Kim mutters, a hint of frustration in his voice. "He knows how to cover his tracks."

Seo-jun looks at Mi-sook's body, his mind reeling with the implications. "Whoever it is, they have medical skills and access to insider information. We're dealing with someone dangerous, Detective Kim."

As the forensic team continues to process the scene, Seo-jun and Kim walk away to discuss their next move. The sun is already high in the sky, bathing the alley in a light that seems incongruously bright for the darkness of the crime they just witnessed.

"We need to investigate that beauty clinic," Seo-jun says, his mind already mapping out the next step. "If both Mi-sook and Park Sung-ho had connections there, it could be the nexus we're looking for."

Kim nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Good point. But we'll need to be discreet. If we alert the killer, he might disappear."

Seo-jun glances back at Mi-sook's body, now covered by a white sheet. "There's something else, Detective Kim. The way the killer operates… it's almost like he's performing surgery. The cuts are too precise, too controlled to be the work of an amateur."

"Are you suggesting our killer could be a surgeon?" "Kim asks, arching an eyebrow.

"I think so," Seo-jun nods. "Someone who knows exactly how to inflict pain without immediately killing the victim. Someone who knows human anatomy well enough to make that final cut with such precision."

Kim sighs heavily, running a hand through his graying hair. "This complicates things. The number of potential suspects just increased considerably."

"But it also gives us a clearer profile," Seo-jun argues. "We're looking for someone with medical skills and with access to insider information on the criminals."

"It seems so, rookie," Kim says with a sigh.

"What's our next step, Detective?" Seo-jun asks, eager to move forward with the investigation. Kim glances toward the scene, his eyes scanning the alley once more before answering. "We'll investigate the clinic first. Let's see what we find there." They both leave the scene.