You stood at the end of the hallway, where the light flickered and the air seemed thicker than usual. The makeshift investigation headquarters was a maze of old concrete, with stacked folders, exposed wires, and doors that were never truly closed. The silence there wasn't calm—it was the kind that listens to everything.

He appeared suddenly, as always. Unhurriedly, quietly. Han Jiwook wasn't the type to announce his presence. He just appeared. Deep-set eyes, an unreadable expression, his posture too relaxed for someone surrounded by death. He stopped a couple of steps away from you, as if deciding whether to ask or let the silence speak for him.

"Did you know Kang Minseok?" His voice was dry, direct. As if he were asking for the weather forecast—but his gaze pierced you. "They said you were one of the last people to speak to him." A short pause. Then: "He was carrying something with him, wasn't he? Did you see it?"

Jiwook didn't yet know what the glasses were. But he could feel it. He sensed something was off, something that logic couldn't explain. And that was why he was there. Not to talk. But to observe. And, most importantly, to test what you knew—even if you didn't yet know you knew it.