Head officer Park Jimin tires solve an unsolved murders of serial killer who became the main topic in Seoul which frightened the entire country with the help of Doctor Min Yoongi who is the best and youngest surgeon in the country. Will they be abl...
Days passed with no new clues about the mysterious murders, leaving everyone involved in the investigation feeling frustrated and anxious. Up to this point, the total number of murders had reached twelve, each one more baffling than the last, with no clear pattern or motive.
Elsewhere, in a dimly lit, remote location, a man stood silently against a cold concrete wall. He was dressed in a black jacket with a hoodie pulled low over his face, his features obscured in shadow. The man reached out, placing his hand on what seemed like an ordinary brick.
He pressed it firmly, then twisted it to the right. A faint, almost imperceptible click echoed in the silence as a section of the wall slid open, revealing a hidden doorway that was seamlessly blended into the surroundings.
The door creaked open, revealing the first room—a dark, damp space reeking of raw earth and decaying wood. The floor was uneven and slick with mud, and the air was thick with the stench of rot. The walls were grimy, and the entire place felt like a scene from a nightmare, an eerie silence pervading the atmosphere. It was as if the room itself had been forgotten by time, left to fester and rot.
The man moved forward, his steps deliberate, as he navigated through the filth. He reached the far end of the room, where another door stood. This one was hidden behind a wall of seemingly rotted planks. With a swift motion, he pulled down a rusty lever disguised as a broken pipe, and the wall shifted, revealing a thick iron door.
The door was equipped with a complex locking mechanism, requiring the man to input a code using a hidden keypad. After entering the code, the door groaned open, revealing the next room.
This room was starkly different from the one before. It was cold, almost sterile, with a powerful air conditioning system humming softly in the background. The walls were pristine, a chilling contrast to the squalor outside.
A large server computer dominated one corner, its screen flickering with various data points, actively tracking a location. The hum of the technology filled the room with a low, steady noise, adding to the eerie ambiance.
On a metal table near the center of the room lay a variety of sharp instruments—scalpels, knives, and other cutting tools, each one meticulously arranged, gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lighting. Despite the nature of the tools, there was no sign of blood, no evidence of their intended use. Everything was immaculate, organized with a precision that hinted at a deeply disturbed mind.
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Against one wall, a massive spiderweb of photographs and documents spread out, interconnected by strings and lines, each one carefully placed. Faces were crossed out with thick red lines, and others were circled in black, marking them as targets. Among these was a photo of a man who appeared to be around 35 years old, his face marked with a red marker and labeled
"The Next!"
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Strangely, in one corner of the room, there were test tubes filled with dried flowers, as if the killer had some morbid fascination with them. The sight of the flowers, delicate and out of place in the otherwise sinister room, added a layer of mystery to the already disturbing setting.
This was the lair of the unknown killer, a place where darkness and death converged, hidden away from the world, yet always lurking just beneath the surface.
The man walked through this room with the ease of familiarity, his presence only deepening the malevolent aura of the space. He was still in the shadows, his identity hidden, but his intent was clear—he was planning his next move, and the city was far from safe.
