Checkmate | Seongjoong

IV (Edited)

Chapter Four

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Seonghwa manoeuvred his sleek black Mercedes to a stop near the Seoul Olympic Hall. Exiting the vehicle, the trio found themselves amidst a flurry of activity—police cars and black vans formed a protective barrier around the perimeter of the building.

As they stepped out, clutching their briefcases, a tall man detached from a group of officers, his voice cutting through the commotion. "Seonghwa, you're here. Good." The man, Director Kim, stood tall in a black turtleneck and trench coat, his hair hinting at a distinguished touch of grey.

"Good morning Director Kim. We got here as soon as we could." Seonghwa greeted with a nod, his teammates following suit.

"Good thing you did. This can't be delayed any further." the director emphasised, leading them toward the hall's entrance. Handing Seonghwa a file, he explained the urgency of assessing a police report and delivering a comprehensive analysis by week's end.

"What's the situation?" Seonghwa inquired, skimming the contents of the file. Inside the main hall, tension hung thick in the air, police officers vigilant at every turn, caution tape marking off areas, and draped sheets shielding the stage.

"Last night's event resulted in the attack on a staff member who likely remained after hours. Autopsy's underway, no signs of struggle, yet an abundance of scratch and strangulation marks—all topped with the signature vampire bite," Director Kim briefed, stressing the urgency while planning further fieldwork.

Fully comprehending the gravity of the case, Seonghwa assured, "We'll rise to the occasion, sir."

"Better not falter. This is a critical investigation," the director concluded before disappearing into the corridor.

Frustration etched on Seonghwa's face as he ruffled his hair, contemplating their next move. "We should split up," he proposed, turning to his team, who nodded in unison.

"I'll stay here," Yeosang volunteered, his voice firm with determination. Seonghwa acknowledged his decision and turned to Mingi.

"I'll scout the back, gather intel from the officers stationed there," Mingi suggested casually.

"Perfect. I'll cover the front," Seonghwa confirmed, receiving affirmations. "Keep in touch if anything surfaces. We're on watch until four."

With a nod, the trio dispersed. Yeosang remained in the hall, engaging in discussions with officers, meticulously jotting down notes, and focusing his attention on the blood-stained walls near the stage, documenting every intricate detail with his phone.

On the building's exterior, Mingi traversed the perimeter, conversing with patrolling officers and methodically documenting his observations. Perched on a ledge, he scrutinised the surroundings, diligently piecing together information in his file.

The Olympic Hall sprawled expansively, an intricate labyrinth of corridors and rooms. Three sets of eyes and minds weren't enough to thoroughly scour every nook and cranny. They relied on unwavering trust and synchronisation, their unity paramount in uncovering the assailant's trail.

As they navigated through the labyrinthine structure, shadows danced, casting eerie silhouettes against the walls. The air felt charged with an unspoken tension, the mystery of the attack enveloping every corridor, every corner. The trio's senses heightened, adrenaline coursing through their veins as they sought any hint, any clue that might lead them to the perpetrator.

Each step echoed through the halls, a cacophony of hushed conversations, the occasional shuffle of footsteps, and the faint buzzing of walkie-talkies creating an eerie symphony. Yeosang remained in deep conversation with officers, probing for the faintest threads of information, while Mingi meticulously recorded every detail, immersing himself in the investigation.

Seonghwa, stationed at the front, exchanged words with patrolling officers, his eyes scanning every face, every nook for any semblance of a clue. His phone buzzed intermittently, his teammates updating him on their progress.

The clock ticked away, each passing minute intensifying the urgency of their mission. Time was their nemesis, the deadline pressing upon them like a relentless force.