I Can Hear a Serial Killer's Voice in My Head

Hours pass in a blur of activity, the team working tirelessly to piece together Mi-sook's movements and identify any possible leads. We've been poring over CCTV footage from the surrounding areas, interviewing potential witnesses, and coordinating with other units, but frustration mounts as each potential lead turns into another dead end.

The atmosphere in the makeshift command center is tense, fatigue and disappointment etched on every face. I'm staring at a map of the area, trying to spot any pattern we might have missed, when Ko's phone suddenly rings.

She answers, her voice terse. As she listens, her expression shifts from weariness to alertness. "Everyone, listen up," she says as she ends the call. "We've got something."

The room falls silent, all eyes on Ko.

"That was one of our Yakuza contacts," she explains. "Apparently, one of their street vendor operations was visited a few weeks ago by someone claiming to be a police officer. The vendor found it suspicious and reported it to his superiors."

I straighten up, feeling a surge of adrenaline. "That could be our guy. He might have been scouting the area, testing his police impersonation."

Detective Kim chimes in, "Or looking for potential victims. Street vendors see a lot, know the regulars in an area. He could have been gathering intel."

Ko nods. "Exactly. It's not much, but it's the best lead we've had all night. I want a team to check it out immediately."

"I'll go," I volunteer, already reaching for my jacket.

"Me too," Sergeant Yoon says, standing up.

Ko considers for a moment, then nods. "Alright. Take Officer Lee with you as well. The rest of us will continue working the other angles here. And remember, if this is our guy, he's dangerous and increasingly bold. Be careful."

In the car, Sergeant Yoon briefs us on the location of the street vendor. It's in a busy area, not far from where Mi-sook was last seen. As we drive through the night-time streets of Gwangju, I can't help but feel we're getting closer. Our killer is out there somewhere, possibly with Mi-sook, and this vendor might just be the key to finding them.

"What do you think we'll find?" Officer Lee asks from the back seat, his voice betraying a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I don't know," I admit. "But whatever it is, it's more than we had an hour ago. And right now, any lead is a good lead."

As we pull up to the street vendor's location, the scene is tense. Several Yakuza members are milling about, their postures stiffening as they spot our unmarked police car. Their eyes follow us warily as we exit the vehicle and approach.

One of the men, a heavily tattooed individual with a scar across his left cheek, steps forward. "What do you want?" he growls, his tone hostile.

Before I can respond, the low rumble of an expensive engine cuts through the night air. A sleek, black luxury sedan pulls up, its tinted windows reflecting the streetlights. The Yakuza members immediately straighten up, their demeanor shifting from aggressive to respectful.

A large man emerges from the back seat, his tailored suit barely containing his muscular frame. He surveys the scene with sharp eyes before focusing on us. The other Yakuza members bow deeply as he approaches.

"My apologies for the rudeness of my associates," he says, his voice smooth but carrying an undercurrent of authority. "They can be... overzealous in their duties."

I nod, acknowledging his attempt at diplomacy. "We understand. We're here about the incident with the man claiming to be a police officer."

The man's expression becomes serious. "Of course. Please, let's discuss this matter." He gestures to a quieter area away from the main group.

As we move to the side, he begins to recount the incident. "It happened about two weeks ago. A man showed up, flashed a badge, and said he was conducting a random check. He claimed our vendor was unregistered."

Sergeant Yoon interjects, "How did your operator respond?"

"At first, he protested," the Yakuza manager continues. "But this 'officer' was persistent. He threatened to arrest our man and report his behavior to our higher-ups. That's when our operator started to worry."

I lean in, intrigued. "Did the man do anything else to intimidate your operator?"

The manager nods grimly. "He threatened to handcuff him. In fact, at one point, he actually did handcuff our man. It was a show of power, you understand."

Officer Lee jots down notes furiously as I process this information. Our impersonator is becoming bolder, more hands-on in his approach.

"What happened next?" I prompt.

"The 'officer' said he could overlook the situation... for a price," the manager says, his disgust evident. "Our operator, fearing for his business and his standing with us, paid him about $200. After that, the man left."

I exchange glances with Sergeant Yoon. This fits with our killer's evolving pattern - testing his disguise, pushing boundaries, seeing how far he can go.

"Did your operator notice anything distinctive about this man? Any physical characteristics, the way he spoke, anything at all?" I ask, hoping for a breakthrough.

The manager shakes his head. "Nothing out of the ordinary, from what I've been told. Average height, dark hair, spoke like a local. The only thing that stood out was his confidence. He carried himself like a real cop."

This encounter with the street vendor was likely a dry run, a test of his disguise and tactics. And now, emboldened by his success, he's escalated to abducting Mi-sook.

I turn back to the Yakuza manager, a thought occurring to me. "One more thing - does your vendor remember how exactly the man handcuffed him? The technique he used?"

The manager confers briefly with one of his subordinates before responding. "He says it wasn't anything special. The guy just grabbed his wrist and slapped the cuffs on."

I nod, my suspicions confirmed. A properly trained police officer would have a specific technique for handcuffing, prioritizing control and safety. This sounded more like something you'd see in a TV drama - all show, no substance.

Before I can delve further, my phone rings. It's Ko.

"Any news?" I ask, stepping away from the group.

Ko's voice is tense. "Nothing on Mi-sook yet. We're still searching. What about you? Any leads?"

I sigh, feeling the weight of our lack of progress. "Not much. The impersonator was here about two weeks ago, likely practicing his routine. But nothing concrete that points to where he might be now."

"Alright," Ko replies, the disappointment evident in her voice. "Come back to the station. We need to regroup and plan our next move."

As we drive back to headquarters, the mood in the car is somber. We're all acutely aware that with each passing hour, the chances of finding Mi-sook alive diminish.

Upon arriving at the station, we're immediately struck by an atmosphere of heightened tension. As we walk through the bullpen, I can hear Ko's voice, urgent and strained, coming from her office.

"Yes, I understand. We're mobilizing units now. Keep trying to reach her," Ko is saying into her phone, her free hand pressed against her other ear to block out the noise of the busy station.

As we approach, Ko looks up, her face pale with worry. She quickly ends her call and turns to us.

"We've got another situation," she says, her voice tight. "I just got off the phone with our Yakuza contacts. Another of their women went out on a call less than two hours ago. She managed to contact them briefly, saying she was being kidnapped. Then the call cut off. We've lost all contact with her."

The implications hit us all at once. Our killer has struck again, and this time, we might have a chance to catch him in the act.

"Do we have a location?" I ask, already reaching for my coat. Enjoy reading at m v le_mp-yr

Ko nods, grabbing her own jacket. "Last known location was in the Sangmu district. I'm coordinating with local units now. We need to move fast."

This is our best chance yet to catch our killer and potentially save two lives. But the pressure is immense - if we make one wrong move, both Mi-sook and this new victim could pay the ultimate price.

As we screech to a halt in the Sangmu district, the scene is already bustling with activity. Our Yakuza contact is there, his face etched with worry. Beside him stands a man I don't recognize - tall, impeccably dressed, with an air of authority that suggests he's high up in the organization.

Ko approaches them, her stride purposeful. "What's the situation?" she demands.

The Yakuza contact gestures to the man beside him. "This is Mr. Choi. He... he has some information for you."

Mr. Choi steps forward, his expression grave. "Detective, I need to speak with you and your colleague privately. It's urgent."

Ko exchanges a glance with me before nodding. "Alright. Let's step aside."

We move to a quieter spot, away from the bustle of officers and onlookers. Mr. Choi takes a deep breath, seeming to steel himself.

"What I'm about to tell you... it's not easy," he begins, his voice low. "The truth is, there's more to this situation than we initially revealed."

I feel my stomach tighten, sensing we're about to hear something significant.

Mr. Choi continues, his words coming out in a rush now. "It's not just the two women you know about. There are... there are three others who have gone missing over the past month."