Yuna stepped into HQ earlier than usual. The corridors were quieter, the familiar scent of coffee and printer ink hanging faintly in the air. She sipped her coffee slowly, the warmth grounding her, even as her mind replayed last night — the awkward exchange of macarons, Joon's half-damp hair, his surprisingly casual pajamas.
Before she could reach her desk, a familiar voice called out.
"Yuna."
She turned to see Jae approaching her, a folder in his hand and urgency in his steps.
"You're early," she said, straightening her coat.
"So are you,"
he replied, handing her the file.
"But good thing. We've got something."
Yuna's eyes narrowed as she opened the folder. Inside were printouts of lab analysis results and digital screenshots.
"That badge you found,"
Jae continued,
"the one with fresh blood—CSU lifted a partial fingerprint. At first, it didn't match any known suspect or staff in the system."
"But?"
Yuna asked, flipping through the pages.
"But it got a hit on something else."
Jae pulled out a separate sheet and tapped a name circled in red.
"Private contractor. Park Tae-jin. Former forensic technician—worked with external agencies, sometimes lent out to police departments on cold case reviews."
Yuna's brows furrowed.
"Why would a former forensic tech's print be on a Black Fang badge… hidden in a restricted HQ room?"
"Exactly," Jae muttered. "And there's more. Room 8's security footage is gone for the past three days. Erased."
Yuna's eyes widened.
"So someone covered it up. From inside."
Jae nodded grimly.
"Looks like the mole list you found might be more accurate than we thought."
Yuna clutched the file tighter. The walls of the HQ suddenly felt less safe — like someone was always watching. The deeper they dug, the more rot they uncovered.
She didn't say it aloud, but one thought echoed loud in her mind:
They're closer than we think. And they know we're looking.
Just as Yuna processed the implications, the door to the analysis room opened.
"Any progress?"
The deep, composed voice belonged to none other than Kang Joon-seok.
Yuna straightened instinctively, while Jae turned and handed him the folder.
"Room 8's badge had a partial print. CSU traced it to Park Tae-jin, a former forensic tech with a questionable contract history."
Joon's eyes scanned the file. His jaw clenched slightly. "And the CCTV footage?"
"Erased," Yuna replied.
"Wiped clean for three days."
Silence fell. Joon's eyes lifted from the file, now locked on Yuna.
"You were right about Room 8. Someone is definitely using it as a dump zone. And this... this confirms inside help."
He looked at Jae. "Run a trace on Tae-jin. Find out his last known location. Who he worked for. Anyone he was in contact with."
Then his gaze settled on Yuna again.
"You're coming with me."
Yuna blinked.
"W-where?"
"Cold case archives,"
Joon replied, turning to leave.
"If Tae-jin was assigned to old evidence reviews, he may have hidden more than just a badge."
Yuna exchanged a quick glance with Jae and hurried after him. Their footsteps echoed down the corridor, tension thick between them. It wasn't just the case anymore. It was the reality that Black Fang wasn't operating from the shadows.
They were already inside the walls.
The Cold Case Archive was tucked away on the lower floors of the HQ — quiet, dust-laced, and bathed in dim lighting. Files older than ten years were shelved here, stacked in towering rows like silent witnesses of forgotten crimes.
Joon scanned his access card, the glass doors sliding open with a soft hiss.
As they stepped inside, Yuna could feel the air shift — heavier, colder. The smell of aged paper and sealed evidence bags filled her nose.
"This place is… eerie," she muttered, hugging her coat closer.
Joon didn't reply. His sharp eyes swept across the room before he moved to a terminal.
"We'll start with Tae-jin's case assignments,"
he said, fingers flying over the keyboard. "Look for anything he marked for transfer, review, or discard in the last two years."
Yuna nodded and began pulling boxes with dates matching the search range. She went through old crime scene logs, broken evidence chains, damaged exhibits. Nothing stood out — until she opened a box labeled CASE 492 — CLOSURE: UNKNOWN.
"Sir,"
she said, her voice low but alert.
"This one doesn't have a sign-off sheet."
Joon looked up.
Yuna carefully pulled out a sealed bag. Inside was a small knife, bloodstained but rusting. There was also a photo — blurry, night-time surveillance — of a man running through an alley. In the corner of the image was something chillingly familiar.
A tattoo — theBlack Fang emblem.
Joon's brows furrowed.
"That symbol... this case isn't unrelated."
He picked up the photo, eyes narrowing.
"This was dismissed as a gang-related incident. But look," he pointed.
"Date stamped: two days after the last known sighting of Chairman Seo — the man who went missing during the internal investigation of the gang eight years ago."
Yuna's breath caught.
"You think Tae-jin hid this to cover it up?"
"Or someone ordered him to,"
Joon replied, grim.
"We need to find out who had access to this file and why it was buried."
He turned toward her, voice sharper now.
"If Black Fang's roots go back eight years... we're dealing with something far deeper."
Yuna nodded slowly, determination settling into her bones.
"Then we dig it all up."
Scene shifts to an Unknown Location
A dimly lit room flickered with blue light from a dozen surveillance monitors. A man sat in the shadows, one leg crossed casually over the other. The monitors displayed various views — Seoul's bustling streets, a dim corridor in the HQ, and two very specific frames:
One showed Yuna in the cold case archive, flipping through evidence files.
The other, Joon, analyzing the photo with sharp focus.
A small smirk formed on the man's lips.
"They're getting close."
A woman leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed. Her eyes were sharp, calculating.
"I warned you about letting that rookie walk around unchecked."
"She's only starting to scratch the surface," the man said lazily.
"Let her dig."
He reached for a cigarette, lit it slowly, and exhaled.
"The deeper she goes, the harder it'll be to breathe."
The woman didn't respond, but the tension between them was undeniable.
"She has something," she finally said.
"A reason to keep pushing."
"Let her,"
the man replied, watching the screen where Yuna now stared at the emblem in her hand.
"The more reasons she has, the easier it'll be to break her later."
His eyes darkened.
"Tell our friends at HQ… it's time to clean up loose ends."
[ End of chapter 7 ]