"So they're not the same?" Minjae asked suddenly, confusion knitting his brows as he watched Rihan study the photos spread across the table. Six victims, all killed in similar, brutal ways.
It had already been announced that the death of the stripper wasn't linked to the bartender's case, and even Rihan had agreed with that conclusion. Still, Minjae couldn't make sense of it.
"I mean... the Grim Reaper didn't kill those people? There's another... killer?" He asked.
"Yeah," Rihan muttered, pulling his cigarette from his lips and tapping off the ash.
Minjae stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Isn't that strange?"
"It is," Rihan admitted flatly, his eyes still fixed on the photos. "But the chief said not to stray from the main investigation, so focus, Minjae." His tone sharpened, and Minjae frowned, discomfort flickering across his face.
"Fine." He sighed and looked down at the pictures again photos taken before the victims were cremated. Even though he was used to Rihan handling evidence like this, he still wasn't used to how Rihan handled it so curiously.
Rihan bit the inside of his lower lip. "All of them were killed the same way outside their workplaces, throats slit. Same type of environment, same backgrounds... orphans. The similarities are too much. There's got to be more."
Minjae nodded thoughtfully. "I've questioned all their colleagues and bosses. They all said the same thing.. that the victims were orphans who needed quick cash just to get by. That rules out debts."
Rihan sighed, rubbing his jaw. "That's right."
Just then, Minjae's phone buzzed. He answered quickly, and his eyes brightened. "Got it. We're on our way."
He shoved the phone back into his pocket, and Rihan looked up. "Who?"
"The second one! the omega, Joon-oh. His boss is ready to talk. The manager," Minjae said, a note of excitement in his voice.
Rihan nodded, grabbing his coat. "Let's go."
They both left the station, slipping into Rihan's car, which took them all the way to a five-star hotel.
Inside, the marble floors gleamed, and soft music floated through the air as they made their way to the restaurant which was filled with wealthy patrons dining without a care in the world.
Soon, a middle-aged Beta, probably in his fifties, approached them with a nervous smile. "Detectives. You came…"
Minjae returned the smile, but Rihan went straight to the point. "Are you going to tell us something new this time?"
The Beta blinked, caught off guard, then forced another smile clearly intimidated by Rihan's sharp tone. Minjae sighed, clearly giving up on trying to soften the mood.
The manager led them past the counter and into the kitchen, where chefs moved efficiently between sizzling pans and steaming pots. He glanced around nervously before clearing his throat. His wrinkled face carried a type of fear that Rihan noticed immediately.
"I… I apologize for not telling the police sooner," he stammered. "But I have to protect myself. I've been receiving death threats." His voice shook.
Minjae frowned. "What happened?"
Rihan's voice was cold. "Explain."
The man swallowed hard. "Joon-oh… he was a good lad. A great cook. I hired him without knowing much about his past. But two weeks before he was killed, he came to work bruised and terrified. When I tried to talk to him, he finally told me the truth."
He took a shaky breath. "He used to be a sex worker at a brothel called Lantern House. It's been closed for a year now ever since the police raided the place. But he said the man who sold him into that life never left him alone after he escaped. He told me he was sure that man was going to kill him."
At that point, Rihan's jaw tightened. He grabbed the man by the throat and slammed him against the wall. The Beta's face turned red as he gasped for air, but Rihan didn't flinch.
"Why didn't you speak sooner?!" he snarled. "Why were you quiet?!"
"P-please…" the man choked out, his eyes wide in panic.
Something cold and cruel flickered in Rihan's hazel eyes as the man begged. He wasn't just angry, he was furious that this Beta could've gone to the police earlier, saving them weeks of dead ends.
"Sir! Rihan!" Minjae's voice cut through the tension. He grabbed at Rihan's arm, trying to pry his hand off the man's neck. The other chefs stood frozen, panic flooding the room.
"Damn it." Rihan suddenly released the man as if nothing had happened, his expression unreadable. The Beta collapsed, coughing hard and pounding his chest for air.
"Let me guess," Rihan said flatly, his tone a low growl. "He didn't tell you the man's name or what he looks like."
The man nodded frantically, too terrified to speak.
Rihan exhaled sharply, a frustrated sound deep in his throat. He cast a quick glance at Minjae, who was helping the Beta steady his breathing, then turned and walked out of the kitchen.
Out of the hotel.
Once outside, he pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and pressed it to his ear. His voice, when he finally spoke, was calm again.
"Are you at your place?"
"I'm always at my place, handsome," came a female gruff, sultry voice on the other end.
Rihan's lips curved into a wild smile. Without another word, he shoved the phone into his pocket and headed for his car.
"Rihan!" Minjae's voice called from behind. Rihan stopped and turned, his tall frame looming as the Beta jogged up to him.
"What the hell was that? I've never seen you lash out like that before." Minjae's voice carried a mix of anger and concern.
Rihan shrugged, unbothered. "It was nothing."
He moved to the driver's side, got in, and shut the door. Minjae came around and tried the passenger handle. It didn't budge.
"Hey! It's locked!" he yelled, frowning.
Rihan lowered the window just enough to meet his partner's gaze. "How long have we been partners, Minjae?"
Minjae blinked, confused. "Uh… one year, one month."
Rihan nodded slowly. "Sit this one out, Minjae."
Then, without another glance, he rolled the window back up and started the engine. The car roared to life, tires screeching lightly as he pulled away, leaving Minjae standing there baffled, frustrated, and staring after him.