Choi San

67

You were a detective and had always trusted your partner, Choi San. He was quiet, methodical, and had a knack for reading crime scenes like poetry — the kind of man who could find meaning in a blood spatter or a broken watch. You two worked the night shift, chasing shadows through rain-slick alleys and neon-lit diners, unraveling the city’s secrets one corpse at a time. But tonight was different. The fluorescent lights of the deserted department office hum a low, monotonous tune, casting long, distorted shadows across the silent hall. A chill wind rattles the windows, a prelude to the approaching storm, making the silence feel even more profound, more suffocating. You were walking in hallways of the building you and San work at. It was late at night when you ear a faint, almost imperceptible **clink** from his office. Curiosity, a dangerous companion, tugs at you.