I take a deep breath, forcing my racing heart to slow. Kim's eyes are wild, the knife in his hand trembling as he holds it against Min-joo's throat. The little girl whimpers, tears streaming down her face.
"Kim," I say, my voice low and steady. "Let's talk about this. You don't want to hurt Min-joo. I know you don't."
Kim's grip on the knife tightens. "Stay back! I'll do it, I swear!"
I take a small step forward, my hands raised in a non-threatening gesture. "I believe you care about your daughter, Kim. That's why you came for her, isn't it? To protect her?"
Confusion flickers across Kim's face. "You... you don't understand. They'll take her away from me!"
"No one's taking her, Kim," I say, inching closer. "We just want to make sure she's safe. You want that too, don't you?"
Kim's eyes dart around wildly. He presses the knife closer to Min-joo's skin, causing her to cry out. "Don't come any closer! I'll hurt her, I swear I will!"
I hear the sound of footsteps behind me - more officers arriving. Without taking my eyes off Kim, I raise a hand, signaling them to stop.
"It's okay," I say softly, addressing both Kim and the officers. "We're just talking here. No one needs to get hurt."
I take another step forward. Kim's breathing becomes more erratic. "I said stay back!" he shouts, his voice cracking.
"Dad," Min-joo sobs, "please... you're scaring me."
For a split second, Kim's eyes meet his daughter's. In that moment of distraction, I make my move.
I lunge forward, faster than Kim can react. My shoulder connects with his midsection, driving the air from his lungs. In his shock, Kim releases Min-joo and the knife clatters to the ground.
Kim stumbles backward, gasping for air. He turns to run, but I'm already on him. We crash to the floor, Kim struggling beneath me as I pin his arms behind his back.
"It's over, Kim," I pant, as the other officers rush in to assist. "It's over."
As Shon secures the handcuffs on Kim, I look up to see another officer comforting Min-joo. The little girl is shaken but unharmed.
I stand up, my heart still pounding from the adrenaline. As Kim is led away, his shoulders slumped in defeat, I can't help but feel a mix of relief and sadness. We've caught our suspect, but at what cost to this family?
I walk over to Min-joo, kneeling down to her level. "You're very brave," I tell her gently. "Everything's going to be okay now."
As I stand up, I catch Shon's eye.
As the chaos begins to settle, Shon approaches me, his face a mix of admiration and concern.
"That was a brave move," he says, his voice low. "But also incredibly risky. What if Kim had hurt his daughter?"
I nod, understanding his concern. "There was a risk," I admit, running a hand through my hair. "But I strongly believed it wasn't going to happen. Given what we know about Kim's psychology, his hesitation to harm children in previous cases, I was betting on his love for Min-joo outweighing his desperation."
Shon shakes his head, a bemused expression on his face. "I still don't get it. I wouldn't have been able to do that. The stakes were too high."
"Sometimes, understanding the suspect's mind is our best weapon," I reply, feeling the adrenaline finally starting to ebb.
Before Shon can respond, another officer approaches us, his face serious.
"Detective," he says, addressing me, "we've found Min-joo's aunt in the apartment. She was tied up and blindfolded, but otherwise unharmed. It seems Kim didn't hurt her."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. "Thank you," I say to the officer. "Make sure she gets medical attention, even if she seems fine. And keep her comfortable - we'll need to talk to her soon."
The officer nods and hurries off to carry out the instructions.
I turn back to Shon. "We should head to the station. There's still a lot of work to do."
Shon nods in agreement. As we walk towards the car, he speaks again, his tone thoughtful. "You know, I've been on the force for years, but I've never seen anyone read a situation quite like that. It's... impressive."
I offer a small smile, feeling the weight of the day settling on my shoulders. "It's not always a blessing, believe me. But today, it worked out."
I enter the interrogation room, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows across Kim's face. He looks smaller now, defeated, his hands cuffed to the table. As I sit down across from him, I can see the turmoil in his eyes.
"Kim," I begin, my voice calm but firm. "We need to talk about what happened. About everything that's happened."
He doesn't meet my gaze, his eyes fixed on his hands. "What's there to talk about? You've got me. It's over."
I lean forward slightly. "Not quite. There are still a lot of unanswered questions. A lot of families waiting for closure."
Kim's jaw clenches, but he remains silent.
"Listen," I say, softening my tone slightly. "I understand you care about Min-joo. That much is clear. And right now, you have a choice to make that will affect her future."
This gets his attention. He looks up, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"
I take a deep breath. "If you confess to your crimes, tell us everything, there's a chance you'll be able to see Min-joo. Supervised visits, of course, but it's something. But if you don't cooperate, if you keep denying everything... I can't guarantee that'll be possible."
Kim's face contorts with a mix of anger and anguish. "You can't do that. You can't keep me from my daughter!"
"I'm not the one making that choice, Kim. You are," I reply steadily. "The truth is going to come out one way or another. The only question is whether you want to be the one to tell it."
For a long moment, Kim is silent, internal conflict playing across his features. Then, almost imperceptibly, something in him seems to break.
"Fine," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "Fine. What do you want to know?"
I feel a surge of anticipation, but keep my expression neutral. "Let's start from the beginning. The women in Gwangju. Were you responsible for their disappearances?"
Kim nods slowly, not meeting my eyes. "Yes. All of them."
"Why?" I ask, even as relief washes over me. We finally have our confession.
Kim's words come out in a rush, as if a dam has broken. He details each abduction, each murder, his voice devoid of emotion. As he speaks, the pieces of our investigation fall into place, confirming our suspicions and filling in the gaps.
I listen intently, asking questions when needed, guiding him through his confession. With each revelation, I can see the weight of his crimes settling on Kim's shoulders.
As he finishes, Kim looks up at me, his eyes hollow. "Will I... will I really be able to see Min-joo?"
I nod slowly. "I'll do everything in my power to make that happen, Kim. But you need to understand, it won't be easy. There's a long road ahead."
Kim nods, slumping back in his chair. "I know. I just... I need her to know I love her. Even after everything."
As I stand to leave the room, I feel a mix of emotions. Relief at finally closing this case, sadness for the victims and their families, and a complicated sympathy for Kim and Min-joo.
Outside, I lean against the wall, taking a deep breath. The case is solved, but the aftermath is just beginning. There will be trials, victim notifications, and a little girl's life forever changed.
But for now, I allow myself a moment of satisfaction. We did it. We caught him. And hopefully, we've brought some measure of justice to those who have suffered.
***
I push open the heavy door to the rooftop, the cool night air a welcome relief after hours in the stuffy interrogation room. The city lights of Busan stretch out before me, a tapestry of neon and shadows. I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head.
But even here, I'm not alone.
"I told you so," Bundy's voice echoes in my mind, smug as ever. "You didn't need my help after all."
I sigh, leaning against the railing. "If I don't need your help, why am I still hearing your voice?"
There's a pause, and when Bundy speaks again, his tone is unusually thoughtful. "Like always, I have no idea. There's some unknown power at work here. But as far as I understand, as long as I'm with you, there's a reason."
I mull over his words, the breeze ruffling my hair. "A reason," I mutter. "But what?"
As if triggered by the question, a memory surfaces - sharp, painful, and all too familiar. My parents' case.
It was the reason I became a detective in the first place. To reopen that case, to find the truth, to see justice done. But after all these years, it still feels impossibly far away.
"Is that it?" I wonder aloud. "Is that why you're here? To help me solve my parents' case?"
Bundy's voice is uncharacteristically gentle when he responds. "I don't have all the answers. But maybe that's part of it. You've got unfinished business, and I'm along for the ride."
I close my eyes, feeling the weight of that unsolved mystery pressing down on me. It's always there, lurking in the background, driving me forward even as it haunts me.
"It seems so impossible," I admit, more to myself than to Bundy. "After all this time, how can I hope to find the truth?"
"One step at a time," Bundy replies. "Isn't that what you always say? You solved this case. Maybe the next one will bring you closer to solving your own."
I open my eyes, looking out over the city once more. Somewhere out there, the answers I seek are waiting. And despite everything, despite dead ends and disappointments, I feel a flicker of hope.
"Maybe you're right," I say softly. "Maybe that's why you're here. To keep me going, to remind me why I started this journey in the first place."
As Bundy's presence fades, I stand a little straighter. The case we just closed is a victory, yes, but it's also a stepping stone. Each solved mystery, each criminal brought to justice, brings me one step closer to unraveling the mystery that's defined my life.
I turn back towards the door, ready to rejoin my team. There's still work to be done, loose ends to tie up. But beyond that, beyond this case and this city, my own unsolved mystery waits.