The young officer led Sergeant Kim and Inspector Ray to the report room, where they encountered a distraught woman, crying uncontrollably. Her face was pale, her hands trembling as she explained the situation.
"It's been more than four hours since my husband left to pick up a few things for us, but he hasn't come home."
She sobbed, her voice breaking.
"I've called his phone a hundred times, but he never answers. I... I had to come to the police."
Sergeant Kim, trying to maintain his composure, nodded sympathetically.
"Do you have a picture of your husband?"
Without hesitation, the woman pulled out her phone and handed it to him. Both men leaned over to look at the screen. As their eyes locked on the image of the man, they exchanged a brief but intense glance, and then spoke in unison, the weight of the moment sinking in.
"Damn."
Their exclamation drew the attention of not only the woman but also several other officers in the room. The woman's panic escalated.
"Tell me… do you know something?"
She cried, her voice sharp with desperation.
"Please, tell me what's going on!"
Her anguish was palpable, and in her frustration, she lunged forward, nearly grabbing Sergeant Kim by the collar. Before she could fully close the distance, the young officer who had brought them there gently pulled her back, trying to calm her.
For a tense minute, there was only silence. Sergeant Kim and Inspector Ray stared hard at the photograph. It was the same man they had just seen in the video—the older man Snowflake had killed.
"Madam," Sergeant Kim began softly, "we need you to take us to your house. Please, we need to check a few things."
The woman, now sensing that something was horribly wrong, nodded mechanically. She didn't need to hear the words to know that something had happened her husband. The looks on the officers' faces told her all she needed to know.
"Boys, let's go,"
Sergeant Kim ordered sharply.
"We don't have time to waste."
As the officers hurried to prepare, Inspector Ray barked his own command.
"Send word to headquarters. Tell them we need a convoy of elite anti-criminal squad. We're raiding the city tonight. Snowflake must be caught."
The team moved quickly, the urgency of the situation clear. As they rushed outside to their cars, Sergeant Kim leaned in close to Inspector Ray and whispered.
"What exactly are you doing?"
Ray shot him a puzzled glance, raising an eyebrow.
"Preparing to catch Snowflake, of course."
He replied, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
Kim didn't press the matter further, though something about Ray's eagerness made him uneasy. They sped through the night, the city's streets eerily quiet under the glow of streetlights. When they arrived at the woman's house, they were surprised to find that it was just a few steps away from the very street where the murder had occurred. The area was hauntingly familiar—exactly like the footage from the video.
Sergeant Kim questioned the woman about what her husband was doing out so late.
"He went to the pharmacy," She explained through fresh tears. "Our child was sick, and he went to get some medicine."
She answered a few more questions, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. Her trembling worsened as the reality of the situation dawned on her. When the officers began searching the area, they found the medicine bag her husband had bought lying in the alley. The moment the woman saw it, her knees gave out, and she collapsed onto the pavement, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Take her away,"
Sergeant Kim ordered one of the officers, his tone softer but resolute.
Despite their thorough search, they couldn't find the husband's body. The air around them grew colder, tension mounting with each passing second.
"Sir, we found something,"
A young officer called out.
Kim and Ray rushed over, following the officer to a small building nearby that appeared to have been broken into. As they entered, Inspector Ray commented.
"Now, what explanation do you have for this, I told you he was caught unaware, he never knew camera was there."
Inside the building, they found a small security office—where the footage from the street's CCTV camera was stored. The door had been forced open, and inside, the body of the worker lay sprawled on the floor, lifeless. A chilling symbol had been carved into his chest—a hammer crossing over a spanner.
Sergeant Kim froze, his eyes widening in horror. His hands shook as he pointed at the symbol.
"This… this is Snowflake."
Inspector Ray stifled a laugh, though the gravity of the situation wasn't lost on him.
"Now do you believe me?"
Ray said, his voice tinged with amusement.
"Snowflake didn't know the camera was there. He found out too late, and he killed this guy to erase the footage."
The younger officers in the room exchanged confused glances. They hadn't seen the video and didn't fully grasp what was happening. But for Sergeant Kim, everything clicked into place. The worker must have been the one who had sent the anonymous video, terrified for his life. But it hadn't saved him. Snowflake had realized too late that the camera was there and came back to clean up the evidence.
Rage flared within Kim.
"Spread the word," he barked. "Get the boys to search every corner of this area. Send another message to headquarters—we need a full squad. We're catching Snowflake tonight."
Inspector Ray chuckled again.
"I already told them."
---
Hours passed as officers swarmed the city, raiding every possible hideout. Still, they found no trace of Snowflake or Uche—who they now believed was Snowflake. It was morning by the time the sun began to rise, casting a mocking light on their fruitless search. Checkpoints had been set up at every major road in the city, stopping every car, every person passing by. Yet, despite their efforts, Snowflake remained elusive.
"You'll start complaining that the job failed because of my incompetence, now look who had failed us."
Inspector Ray said, frustrated, his vein bulging.
"How did I fail you, I gave the command that the city should be raided, so how is it my fault that we still never get him."
Sergeant Kim questioned, his blood boiling, also frustrated.
"You gave the command too late, if only you had done it immediately we saw the video."
"Look, our men are everywhere," A senior officer from headquarters tried to assure them, in an attempt to ease the tension between the two. "We haven't failed. He'll surface eventually."
But as if on cue, another officer rushed over, holding a phone in her hand.
"You'll want to see this, sirs."
She tapped the screen, and a video began to play. Bold text at the top read:
*Breaking News.*
A reporter, a young woman, stood in front of the camera, her face tense.
"Earlier this morning, a strange statue was discovered in the middle of a street, and authorities have yet to arrive at the scene. Residents are calling it the work of the Corpse Art Killer, though police have not yet confirmed anything."
The camera panned briefly to show the statue—a corpse, posed like art, rigid and lifeless.
As the video continued, Inspector Ray snatched the phone from the officer and, in a fit of frustration, hurled it to the ground, smashing it.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! This is getting on my nerves."
He roared, stomping his foot on the ground.
Sergeant Kim, staring blankly at the shattered phone, muttered.
"He's toying with us…"
Blood dripped from his nose again, but this time, no one dared to comment. The tension was too thick, the frustration too raw. The officers all looked away, unsure of what to say. Finally, Ray gave the command to gather a dozen men and head to the scene where the corpse statue had been found.
Minutes later, they arrived, securing the area and retrieving the body for examination. Snowflake's signature—his twisted, mocking artistry—was carved into the victim.