》-----❤️--}
On March 25th, the notorious art museum of Korea hosted an exhibition.
It is now June. Felix is seated in a black office chair that creaks at his every movement. In front of him, stacks of papers lay on the old desk- some even stained by coffee droplets. Another packed desk rests in the corner of the room. It is his colleague's seat, Changbin, who is currently absent. He had left a few hours prior- said he had an emergency. The only sound filling the emptiness is the clock's ticking and the officer's sighs.
If Lee Felix regrets something in this life, it is not attending that damned art exhibition.
He, now, is stuck here, between these four beige walls-chained to his chair by guilt. His head is pounding, and his spine feels shattered, but he pays no mind. He read the same files so often that he could recite line after line. Yet the dots don't connect.
He looks at the pictures on the wall, the red thread that used to connect them hanging loose. Is this a riddle with no answer? It feels like walking in a maze blindfolded. But determination burns in his chest.
Rapid steps echo along the hallway. Felix glances at the clock; it shows 7 pm when the door bursts open. Chan, his superior, stumbles in. The torrid, humid air suddenly feels unbearable as the blonde examines his colleague's demeanor. His grip seems too strong on the handle, and he's avoiding eye contact. The silence gets replaced by Officer Bang's staggered breaths while Felix feels his own cease.
The blonde leaps from his seat, almost as if there are no words needed to exchange. An idea already outlined in his mind.
"Another victim?" his deep voice comes out hoarser than usual. Chan nods, still keeping his gaze on the floor. Swiftly, he grabs a few things from the cabinet and storms past Bang. This has become a routine. Only this time, a big hand grabs his arm and prevents him from sprinting down the hall. Felix looks at Bang, frowning. Confusion is written all over his face, and the uneasiness spreads through him.
"This is not just another victim." he finally says, looking up at the younger who is taken aback upon seeing the tears welling in Chan's eyes. The surroundings started to spin and blur in Felix's vision.
"Changbin is dead, Felix."
~
Felix doesn't know how he got there. But he is standing beside his colleague's cold and pale body. The floor was dirty, covered in dust and stains, but there weren't any footprints. No witnesses, no cameras in this part of the town. Just a crime in an abandoned house.
Heavy, that's how Felix feels. He wishes to rip out his own hair, bang on the walls, scream until his throat burns. He doesn't. Instead, he pushes all the emotions aside, disguising them with a stoic expression.
Only a few more officers are present. It's Felix's request to be the first to investigate the crime scenes. He doesn't want clumsy officers to entangle the case.
The yellowish paint on the walls is faltering, and cobwebs flow from the ceiling. Felix's eyes dart around the room. He walks around the place in a strange pattern. You couldn't tell if he was an amateur trying to seem experienced or a genius with a brilliant idea. But Officer Han, who followed his moves with his gaze, knew better.
Felix's regard shifts so rapidly; up-down-left-right, again up and down and around. He crouches down, takes pictures, and writes in his notes.
He approaches a doorway and waves his hand. Han would've made a joke since Felix looks quite amusing. But their other colleague lays dead on the floor. It is not the time for his typical jokes. He wasn't close to Changbin, but Felix surely was. It was beyond Jisung's abilities to understand how could Felix be so calm at this moment.
