Paint Me Blue

IV. The Dark Avenger

*t/w: a brief mention of child sa (case related)

In the sub-bureau VAR(video analysis room), the tension was thick as Yin, Bonz, and War huddled around the video analyst. On the monitor, a grainy, pixelated figure moved across the screen. A man in a face mask, walking briskly away from Brother Marcus's villa at the estimated time of death. The poor quality of the footage only added to their frustration.

"Who has a property this vast and doesn't install a single security camera?" Yin muttered under his breath, skepticism etched on his face. It was clear the lack of surveillance only added fuel to his suspicions about the cult leader's shady dealings.

Bonz squinted at the screen, trying to make out any details. "He's just a blurry outline. Can't make out much of anything."

Then, breaking the silence, War spoke up with surprising calm. "I can draw him."

Bonz turned to him, eyebrows raised, echoing everyone's doubt. "Can you really? With just that?"

War didn't look away from the screen, his expression steady. "It's more than enough."

Yin folded his arms, observing War with a critical eye. "You mean to tell us that from this jumble of pixels, you can pull out a face?"

Without missing a beat, War replied, "Yes."

Bonz glanced between War and Yin, as if waiting for the captain's verdict.

Finally, Yin gave a short nod, gesturing toward the door. "Alright, 'genius.' Let's see if you can really work your artistic magic."

As War left the Video Analysis Room, Bonz couldn't resist turning to his captain. "Think he's really got it, or was he just putting on a show?" he asked, a smirk on his face.

Yin glanced at him, mirroring the question back. "What do you think?"

Bonz shrugged, letting out a soft laugh. "Total bluff, no way he's pulling it off."

Yin chuckled along with him, giving the impression he agreed. What Bonz didn't see is the turmoil inside Yin because deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that War might actually be serious about it.

Back in room 406, which War hadn't fully claimed as his own yet, he began making sketches from the screenshots he'd received from the VAR personnel. He drew every angle of the man wearing a face mask, as if piecing together a jigsaw puzzle of an abstract painting.

He was plastering the sketches all over the wall when a soft knock made him turn toward the door. The forensic pathologist, Kenji, was grinning as he leaned halfway into the room.

"Have you eaten, Mr. War?" he asked cheerfully, a wide grin on his face. For someone whose profession had him spending more time with corpses than with the living, War thought Kenji was a little too...vibrant.

"I haven't," War replied, returning to placing the sketches on the wall. He heard Kenji practically hopping into the room before stopping beside him.

"Whoa! Did you draw all this?" Kenji asked, his face lighting up with awe. War only nodded without saying a word.

"This is so cool of you!" Kenji continued to examine each sketch until he felt a pair of eyes watching him. He turned to see the artist himself observing him, as if he were some antique vase just discovered.

"Are you 178 cm tall?" War asked, his tone calm but his gaze sharp as he looked Kenji over.

Kenji hesitated, then answered with a drawn-out, "Ye...es. Why?"

There was something about the way War was studying him that sent a strange, fluttery sensation to the pit of Kenji's stomach.

War took a step back, his eyes still appraising. "And you weigh around 75 kg?"