It was late into the night. The sky stretched on endlessly above, cloudless and dark, as if the moon had never existed at all. Just a vast expanse of muted black, indifferent to the world it surrounded.
Ryul entered the far wing of the precinct, where the walls seemed narrower, the air colder. This part of the building was eerier than the rest, and deliberately so.
Here, things were stripped back: no chatter, no ringing phones, only the occasional scuff of shoes against concrete.
Detective Hojin stood waiting by the observation window, flanked by two other plainclothes officers whose expressions revealed little.
A brief handshake was exchanged, professional and wordless, before they turned their attention to the glass.
Beyond it, in the interrogation room, Taeoh sat alone.
