Chapter – 12
Through the in-ear communicator came the frantic voice of Sesame.
[What the hell? Are you insane? You said you needed help—so why did you cut the line?]
Yusin couldn’t find a good answer to Sesame’s question.
Because the meerkat was asleep didn’t exactly fit the situation, so he subtly changed the subject.
“Don’t worry about it.”
[Nothing serious happened, right?]
“Yeah. More importantly—”
Yusin’s gaze, which had been scanning the room, stopped on a neatly organized stack of promotional materials.
“Our bug got compromised.”
As he moved toward the trash can, his hand closed around an empty bottle of tonic.
“Looks like the meerkat drank it. If you try tapping in now, can you hear anything?”
[Why would a meerkat drink that? If it really swallowed it… it’s probably broken. Or—wait. If it hasn’t been long, you might hear something like a heartbeat.]
“Really?”
Yusin rotated the label on the bottle and checked the serial number.
“Channel 41. Try connecting it.”
[Who the hell is this ‘meerkat’ anyway?]
“Who else? A cop from the Jungbu Precinct. I kept her in my room so she wouldn’t go snooping around the hospital, and she pulled a pretty cute stunt.”
Yusin leaned back on the sofa and pushed the in-ear piece in a little deeper.
From the channel Sesame connected, the rapid, clear sound of Cheong-ah’s pounding heart echoed steadily.
A dark hallway.
Cheong-ah’s footsteps were hurried, moving in the exact opposite direction from where Yusin had just gone.
Cold sweat drenched her body. She couldn’t remember how she’d managed to escape Yusin’s lab—her mind was a complete blank.
She sprinted down the stairs and squeezed herself into the janitors’ break room.
Crouched deep inside a cabinet where no one could see her, Cheong-ah covered her mouth, gasping for breath, before finally letting out a long sigh.
“…I’ve lost my mind, Kim Cheong-ah. I really have.”
Slap.
She struck her own cheek.
The image of Min Yusin’s naked body, moving right in front of her eyes, kept flashing back.
No—wait.
No?
Why were my eyes open? Am I crazy?
Do I… have voyeuristic tendencies…?
She pressed her forehead and stared at the floor for a long moment, then tried to make excuses for herself.
“A—ah. Right. Yeah. Merchants from the Cheonghwa faction have tattoos, right? They hide secret markings there… yeah. That’s it. That’s why I looked. Right?”
What followed was crushing self-loathing.
No matter what excuse she made, the truth was that she’d squinted her eyes open because she was curious about his solid lats and massive chest.
The final blow to her shame was the memory of blurting nonsense in front of Yusin—then running away.
“What the hell was I thinking? I’m screwed.”
She punched the wall again and again.
“Damn it! Idiot! Why does his body have to be that good for no reason? Shit—this is bad.”
Her heart kept racing mercilessly, even though it felt like tears might spill at any moment.
Cheong-ah didn’t sleep a wink that night.
Only when she received In-gyu’s message saying he’d arrived at the hospital’s back entrance did she finally drag herself out of the break room.
The sunlight was warm, the breeze refreshing—but her face was heavy with shadow.
After a sleepless night, her face was pale and drained of color.
Across the two-lane road in front of the hospital’s back gate, she spotted Seong-min’s car.
“Hey.”
Leaning against the car and smoking, Seong-min waved at her. Cheong-ah let out a deep sigh and bowed slightly.
The driver’s door flew open, and Park In-gyu rushed out. He hurried across the crosswalk and handed her a large paper bag.
Inside were pink heart-patterned socks, a phone charger, several pain-relief patches, and snacks.
“Hey—what is this? I told you I don’t need socks.”
“They’re 100% cotton. If you wear weird nylon socks, you’ll get athlete’s foot. Like Senior Seong-min.”
“…I’m touched. Truly.”
Cheong-ah frowned deeply as she spoke. In-gyu chuckled and handed her the work log tucked under his arm.
“You missed a few days, so the logs piled up.”
“Can’t you just write them for me? I’m exhausted—physically and mentally, hyung.”
Sighing heavily, Cheong-ah took the log. But the moment she did, her expression shifted.
“What’s this?”
She felt an unfamiliar texture beneath the log. In-gyu replied casually.
“What do you think? Inspector In Yeon-hee from HQ contacted me. Told me to pass it to you quietly. I didn’t even tell Senior Seong-min.”
Cheong-ah neither nodded nor replied. She immediately started filling out the work log.
As she wrote, she swiftly crumpled the envelope tucked behind it and shoved it into her pocket.
“Hyung.”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
Watching Cheong-ah with her head buried in the log, In-gyu awkwardly rubbed the tip of his ear.
“Hey… but I don’t get it. Does that really have to be kept secret?”
“Maybe our Yeon-hee unnie wanted to make a secret confession.”
“……”
Click.
The fingers holding the aluminum blinds fell away. Arms folded, Yusin replayed the faces he’d seen through the window.
Oh Seong-min and Park In-gyu…
The internal data on Jungbu Precinct’s Violent Crimes Unit 2, which Sesame had sent him days ago, overlaid in his mind.
The people making contact with Kim Cheong-ah matched the composite sketches perfectly.
Yusin scoffed.
“Hm… did you bring the entire Violent Crimes team with you?”
He turned back to his desk, leaned into his chair, and closed his eyes, replaying the scene.
Kim Cheong-ah, head lowered, diligently writing something—
most likely her work log, delayed from staying late at the hospital for days.
The way she quickly stuffed something she’d received from Park In-gyu into her pocket.
Park In-gyu, scratching his ear awkwardly as he watched her.
Yusin lifted a coffee cup containing nothing but melted ice and swallowed it in one go, crunching loudly.
“The Jungbu cops moving this seriously… that’s a problem.”
He pulled out his phone and immediately called Viper.
At the same time, Cheong-ah crossed the hospital lobby, clutching her racing heart.
It had been a long time since she’d received a secret message from Yeon-hee—ever since the drug investigation task force was disbanded.
Her pulse was pounding, adrenaline flooding her system.
Still, there was no need to look around nervously. No reason to show others how tense she was.
She walked briskly, pretending nothing was wrong.
Her destination was a corner stall inside the men’s restroom on the fifth floor, currently used as a cleaning supply closet.
She let out a brief, humorless laugh at her own choice.
I think I’ve become a janitor down to my soul…
Since when did a bathroom feel this cozy?
She dragged a cleaning cart over and sat on top of it.
Taking the note from her pocket, she used her foot to wedge the door shut, making sure no one could enter.
. .-. . .–. ..- .- -.
It’s been a while since the 5th—haven’t eaten snakehead fish in ages. Two face masks left.
.-. .– .- -.. … .- -.
4 turned into a blue bird.
. – .- -. .-. -. -.. -.–
Eight pink boxes.
-. .- .. …. …
Seven twins.
-.. –.- .- .. —
It’s been a while.
Just like In-gyu said, it was a hard-to-understand message. Cheong-ah narrowed her eyes at the note.
This was a cipher she and Yeon-hee had created back when the drug task force was formed.
To outsiders, it looked like meaningless numbers, nonsense words, and strange Morse code—but Cheong-ah understood it perfectly.
Today was Friday, the 18th.
That meant 5 indicated surveillance.
Mentioning snakehead fish meant the observer’s identity was unknown.
Her expression hardened as she followed the cipher.
What? I was being bugged?
Her face drained of color as she quickly checked the next part.
Contact me quickly. Not your personal phone?
At first, the cipher had been half a joke.
But as their joint investigation deepened, the need for secrecy grew—and so did the complexity of their code.
Before she knew it, it had evolved into the structured system it was now.
Cheong-ah let out a heavy sigh.
She never expected it to be this useful.
But… why would anyone bug me? I’ve been kicked out of HQ for almost a year now…
She shook her head and focused again on decoding the Morse—
“Ma’am! This is the men’s restroom! How long are you planning to stay in there? I’m seriously about to burst!”
A loud, irritated voice echoed toward her.
