6 LETTERS OF YEVGENY VISSARIONOVICH BOGDANOV

SECOND LETTER

I had just finished reading the three pages aloud. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, tightening around us like a coiled spring, as if something long hidden was on the verge of revealing itself. There was a strange tension in the air, a weight of anticipation, though I couldn't yet grasp what it meant. I glanced over at Jeong Taeui, my brows furrowed in hopes of seeing a spark of realization on his face. But his expression was calm, focused on the task at hand as he began opening the second envelope. It seemed that Yevgeny had written these letters in a state of torment, battling the pain of losing not only his legs but his lover—someone who had, it appeared, been much more than just a lover.

And then, suddenly, the pieces began to fall into place.

"Taeui, didn't you mention something earlier about screams being heard late at night?" I asked, my voice rising slightly, a new urgency threading through my thoughts. He nodded absentmindedly, barely registering the significance of my question as he continued working at the second envelope. His casual demeanour clashed with the growing excitement thrumming inside me. I could feel that we were on the cusp of uncovering something far larger than either of us had expected. Though this case had not officially been assigned to me, I had become so deeply entrenched in it that turning back now was no longer an option.

"Taeui!" I said again, more forcefully this time, grabbing his arm and giving him a small shake to pull his attention back to me. He glanced up, startled. "What? What is it?"

"Screams. Late at night?" I repeated, my words coming out faster now, as if they might lead us somewhere if I just pushed hard enough.

"Yeah," he said with a slight frown, his voice still nonchalant. "But no one ever knew whose screams they were. And there were rumours—about men disappearing without a trace, their bodies never found. People started spinning ghost stories around it. You know how it is, adding fuel to the fire. Makes everything scarier."

He shrugged, but I wasn't buying it. There had to be more to the story than just rumours. Something about it gnawed at me. Yevgeny's agony, his desperate confession in the letter, the screams, the disappearances—it all started to come together in my mind like pieces of a puzzle. A dark, twisted puzzle.

"We need to search this mansion," I said suddenly, my eyes scanning the dimly lit room, taking in every shadow, every crevice where secrets might be buried. "I have a feeling Kwon Taekjoo's body is here somewhere."

Taeui stopped mid-motion, his hand freezing over the envelope. His eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?" he asked, his voice slow, as if he hadn't quite grasped what I was suggesting. "That doesn't make sense. Taekjoo ran away after the fire. That's what the stories say. He left Yevgeny behind. Why would his body be here?"

I shook my head, pacing the room now, trying to fit the pieces together. "Think about it. A man like Taekjoo, who stayed behind after his group left, who defied his people for the sake of love... You really think he would just leave Yevgeny like that? Abandon him completely?"

He looked skeptical, but I could see the wheels turning in his mind. "I don't know... maybe? But no one ever found his body, and no one heard from him again after the fire. It's always been assumed he fled."

"I don't believe it," I said, rubbing my chin as Yevgeny's words from the first letter echoed in my head. "Yevgeny's description of Taekjoo, the way he spoke of him—it wasn't the kind of love you just walk away from. He didn't run. He stayed, somehow. And those screams—those must have been linked to him. I can feel it."

Taeui sighed, still unsure, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes now. "Alright, but even if you're right, how does that explain the disappearances? The screams?"