The restaurant had emptied out around them, the late-night crowd thinning until only Team Zero remained at their table. Dae-hyun had paid the bill while they were still laughing about the sparring match, and now they stood on the sidewalk, the night air cool against their faces.
"I'll see you all tomorrow," Dae-hyun said. "Seven sharp. We've got a case to break."
Min-jun raised an eyebrow. "You're not going home?"
Dae-hyun didn't answer. He simply walked toward his SUV, parked at the curb, and got in. The engine started, and he pulled away without looking back.
Soo-ah watched him go. "Does he always do that?"
Min-jun sighed. "He always does that. Come on, let's get home. Tomorrow's going to be a long day."
They scattered in different directions—Min-jun toward the subway, Jin-young into a waiting taxi, Shi-eok on foot toward his apartment, Hae-rin to her car, Soo-ah to her bus stop. Yoon Seo-ah stood alone for a moment, watching the taillights of Dae-hyun's SUV disappear around a corner. Then she, too, walked away into the night.
---
Dae-hyun parked in his usual spot at the Yongsan station and let himself in through the side entrance. The building was quiet at this hour, the uniformed officers on the lower floors working their night shifts, but up here, on the third floor, there was only silence.
He walked into the bullpen and stopped in front of the whiteboard.
The case stared back at him. Park Jae-won's face, copied from an old mugshot. Park Ji-hoon's name, circled in red. The timeline of the robbery. The witness statements. The traffic camera data. The mysterious vase that shouldn't have been missing from the crime scene photos.
Something was there. He could feel it.
He pulled off his jacket, draped it over his chair, and started working.
The hours passed in that strange, timeless way they always did when he was deep in a case. He read through every file again—the original investigation reports, the witness statements, the forensic analysis. He cross-referenced names, dates, locations. He studied Park Jae-won's criminal history, his known associates, his patterns.
At two in the morning, he pulled up Park Jae-won's prison records. Not the visitor logs this time—the inmate records. Cell assignments. Work details. Disciplinary actions.
And there it was.
A name jumped out at him. Not Park Ji-hoon. Someone else. Someone who had shared a cell with Park Jae-won for eighteen months, four years ago. Someone whose release date coincided perfectly with the first of the unsolved robberies in Commissioner Hwang's folder.
Dae-hyun sat back in his chair, staring at the name on his screen.
Kang Min-suk. Age 41. Served six years for robbery. Released eighteen months ago. No current address on file. No known employment. No nothing.
But the timing. The method. The connection to Park Jae-won.
Dae-hyun pulled up Kang Min-suk's old file. The man had been a small-time criminal before prison—petty theft, breaking and entering, nothing special. But after his release? Nothing. A ghost.
Except ghosts didn't commit robberies.
He spent another hour digging, connecting dots, building a timeline. The startup that employed Park Ji-hoon—the one Jin-young had flagged—had been registered three months after Kang Min-suk's release. The founder was a woman with no criminal record, but her address was the same building where Kang Min-suk's mother lived.
It was all circumstantial. All guesswork. But it fit.
Dae-hyun leaned back in his chair, his eyes burning from the screen, his body heavy with exhaustion. He looked at the clock on his computer. Four thirty-seven in the morning.
He could go home. Sleep for two hours, maybe three. Come back and—
No. He was here. The answers were here. He rested his head on his folded arms, just for a moment. Just to close his eyes.
---
Min-jun found him like that at six forty-five.
The older detective stopped in the doorway of the bullpen, coffee in hand, and stared at the scene before him. Dae-hyun was sprawled in his chair, head down on the desk, fast asleep. The whiteboard behind him was covered in new notes, new connections, new names. Empty coffee cups surrounded him like fallen soldiers.
Min-jun shook his head and walked over. He set his coffee down and put a hand on Dae-hyun's shoulder.
"Captain."
Dae-hyun didn't move.
"Captain." A little louder.
Still nothing.
Min-jun shook him gently. "Dae-hyun."
Dae-hyun's eyes snapped open. For one terrifying second, his hand shot out and grabbed Min-jun's wrist with enough force to bruise. Then recognition flooded his face, and he released him.
"Sorry." His voice was rough with sleep.
Min-jun rubbed his wrist. "Remind me never to wake you gently." He nodded at the desk, at the whiteboard. "You slept here again."
Dae-hyun straightened slowly, his neck cracking. He looked around at the evidence of his all-nighter—the files, the notes, the empty cups. "I found something."
"I can see that. But you also need to sleep in an actual bed sometime."
Dae-hyun stood, stretching. "You know me, Min."
"Yeah, I know you." Min-jun's voice softened slightly. "I've known you for ten years. I know you have no one at home. I know you find comfort in this." He gestured at the chaos. "But even machines need to shut down occasionally."
Dae-hyun said nothing for a moment. Then, quietly: "I find it comforting. Deep in the night, alone with the case. Just me and the answers, waiting to be found."
Min-jun studied him. "And did you find them?"
A small smile crossed Dae-hyun's face. "I solved it. The case. The robbery, at least. Maybe more." He moved toward the door. "I need a shower. There's a locker room on the second floor. When everyone gets here, gather them. I'll tell you all at once."
Min-jun's eyebrows rose. "You solved it?"
"Wait for the others." Dae-hyun disappeared through the door.
Min-jun stood alone in the bullpen, looking at the whiteboard, at the new connections, at the name circled in red that hadn't been there yesterday. Kang Min-suk.
He smiled to himself. "Son of a bitch actually did it."
---
By seven-fifteen, they had all arrived. Soo-ah came in at seven sharp, bright-eyed and ready. Jin-young stumbled in at seven-oh-five, yawning. Shi-eok arrived at seven-ten, quiet as always. Hae-rin came at seven-twelve, calm and composed. Yoon Seo-ah arrived at seven-fifteen, her uniform immaculate, her face unreadable.
They gathered in the bullpen, eyeing the whiteboard, the new notes, the fresh connections.
"Where's the captain?" Soo-ah asked.
Min-jun jerked his thumb toward the hallway. "Shower. He was here all night."
Jin-young whistled. "All night?"
"All night." Min-jun nodded at the board. "And apparently, he solved it."
They stared at the board with new respect. The name Kang Min-suk circled in red. Lines connecting him to Park Jae-won, to the startup, to the robbery. Notes in Dae-hyun's sharp handwriting filling every empty space.
Hae-rin moved closer, studying the connections. "Kang Min-suk. Park Jae-won's cellmate."
"For eighteen months," Min-jun confirmed. "Released right before the first robbery in the Commissioner's file."
Soo-ah's eyes widened. "So Jae-won taught him?"
"Looks that way."
The door opened, and Dae-hyun walked in. His hair was still damp from the shower, and he'd changed into a fresh uniform he must have kept in his office. He looked tired but alert, his eyes sharp as they swept across his team.
"Good. You're all here." He moved to the front of the bullpen and stood before the whiteboard. "I found him. The man behind the robbery."
He pointed to the name circled in red.
"Kang Min-suk. Forty-one years old. Served six years for robbery, released eighteen months ago. He shared a cell with Park Jae-won for a year and a half." Dae-hyun's voice was calm, certain. "Jae-won taught him everything. His methods, his techniques, his MO. And when Kang Min-suk got out, he used those lessons."
Jin-young leaned forward. "But the startup—Park Ji-hoon—"
"Is connected." Dae-hyun moved to another section of the board. "The startup was founded by a woman named Choi Eun-young. She has no criminal record. But her mother lives in the same building as Kang Min-suk's mother. They're neighbors. Friends. Choi Eun-young is Kang Min-suk's girlfriend."
Soo-ah gasped softly.
Dae-hyun continued. "The startup is a front. They take in stolen goods—jewelry, electronics, whatever—and sell them through legitimate channels. The company handles the transactions, pays taxes on some of it, launders the rest. It's brilliant, really. They've been doing it for over a year, and no one noticed."
He pulled up a document on the screen behind him. "I cross-referenced the startup's business records with the dates of the robberies in the Commissioner's file. Every single time—every single robbery—there's a spike in inventory receipts at the startup within forty-eight hours. Gold, silver, gems. All purchased from vague sources, all documented just enough to satisfy tax laws."
Min-jun stood up slowly. "So Kang Min-suk runs the crews, and the startup moves the product."
"Yes." Dae-hyun turned back to the board. "He has a crew. Four men, all with minor records, all connected to Kang Min-suk from his prison days or before. I have names." He pointed to a list on the board. "Park Doo-sik, Lee Jae-ho, Choi Min-woo, and Kim Sung-tae."
He faced them, his eyes hard. "These are the men who hit the jewelry store. These are the men behind at least four of the robberies in the Commissioner's file. And Kang Min-suk is the one who planned them all."
The bullpen was silent.
Then Min-jun grinned. "So we go get them."
"We go get them." Dae-hyun nodded. "But we do it right. Jin-young, I need current locations for all five men. Kang Min-suk first. Find me where he sleeps, where he eats, where he breathes."
Jin-young was already typing. "On it."
"Min-jun, you and Shi-eok will lead the arrest team for Kang Min-suk. Hae-rin, you'll coordinate from here—keep us updated on the others. Soo-ah, you're with me on the startup. We're bringing in Choi Eun-young for questioning."
Soo-ah straightened. "Yes, Captain!"
Dae-hyun looked at Yoon Seo-ah. For a moment, he said nothing. Then: "You're with Min-jun and Shi-eok. Watch, learn, stay out of the way unless needed."
Yoon Seo-ah nodded once. No argument, no attitude. Just acceptance.
Jin-young's voice cut through the moment. "Got him. Kang Min-suk. He's at an apartment in Nowon-gu. Third floor. No indication he's moving."
Dae-hyun moved toward the door. "Then let's not keep him waiting. Gear up, everyone. We move in thirty minutes."
They scattered to their preparations, the bullpen suddenly alive with purpose. Min-jun was already on his phone, coordinating with uniformed officers. Shi-eok checked his equipment with methodical precision. Jin-young fed data to everyone's phones. Soo-ah bounced on her heels, ready to go. Hae-rin settled in at her desk, screens ready.
And Yoon Seo-ah stood at the edge of the chaos, watching it all, learning.
Dae-hyun paused at the door and looked back at his team. Five people he'd chosen. One he hadn't. All of them ready to move.
"Thirty minutes," he repeated. "Don't be late."
He walked out, and behind him, Team Zero came alive.