Shin Haesu blinked twice while leaning against the wall, then pushed himself off.

“Detective Shin?”

“Ah, I’m fine. So, has any evidence come up?”

“Evi…dence?”

Officer Lim tilted her head in confusion. Haesu realized his mistake at her reaction.

There was no indication of foul play yet.

“Ah, it’s just that, from what I saw before, she didn’t seem like someone who would commit suicide. I’m keeping the possibility of murder in mind. The crime scene…”

As Haesu looked around, Officer Lim caught on quickly and replied.

“Just in case, we preserved it as much as possible. There shouldn't be any contamination.”

“Good job.”

Not long after, the members of Team 1 arrived and, following Haesu’s lead, began searching for any signs of foul play. They collected hair, fingernail fragments, even the smallest pieces of evidence, and took fingerprints. The noose was also sent as evidence.

Though a detailed confirmation was still pending, the hair strands matched Shin Ira’s in both length and color, and no suspicious evidence had turned up.

Since Shin Ira had no family, her body was sent straight to the National Forensic Service. Haesu made sure to emphasize:

“Please check thoroughly whether she was dead before being hanged, and if there are any inconsistencies that seem unnatural for a suicide.”

- “Understood.”

Team 1 retrieved CCTV and black box footage, then returned to the station to start their tedious analysis.

Tap tap tap tap.

The team leader, his eyes dull from staring at the screen, muttered, “But hey, Haesu, the crime scene looked like a clear suicide. Yet, your approach seems like you’re convinced it’s a murder?”

“My father…”

“Huh?”

“It’s the exact same way my father died. The bedroom balcony, the drying rack cord, the knot style… Stop.”

At Haesu’s words, the junior officer instinctively pressed the space bar to freeze the video. The screen showed a man in a hood.

They couldn’t tell which floor he had exited from, but the footage captured him leaving the building around the same time as Shin Ira’s estimated time of death.

“Follow that guy’s path.”

“On it. He turned here, so…”

“File number 16 from Jeongju Road.”

“Ah, got it.”

As they tracked the hooded man’s movements through the CCTV footage, the team leader stroked his chin with his index finger, narrowing his eyes.

“Definitely suspicious.”

Oh Gaeng’s gaze sharpened.

“This bastard is moving in blind spots and avoiding angles where his face would be visible. He knows exactly where the cameras are.”

“It cuts off here.”

The footage ended at an alley with no CCTV coverage. Beyond that point, the area was too broad, with many residential buildings, making further tracking difficult.

“If this guy staged the suicide… he’s a pro.”

A professional wouldn’t stage a suicide without a reason. There had to be one.

Suddenly, Haesu recalled what Senior Officer Park Young-chul had once told him:

- “If you don’t have circumstances or evidence, find the culprit in the victim’s life.”

Haesu abruptly stood up.

“What? What now?”

“When we hit a dead end, we need to get out there and investigate.”

“Ah, damn…”

Leaving the team leader to continue analyzing the CCTV footage, the rest of Team 1 returned to Shin Ira’s residence to search for clues.

They combed through her clothes, shoes, phone search history, belongings—everything related to her life.

But nothing indicated a motive for murder.

Her call history only contained men like Congressman Kim Sang-tae and other clients. There were no suspicious contacts.

Only one thing stood out: while investigating Kim Sang-tae, they had learned that Shin Ira frequented a high-end bar called Red Moon.

The same Red Moon that had been mentioned in Haesu’s father’s notebook.

The same Red Moon that Shin Ira had also visited.

The deaths of both individuals had one common denominator—Red Moon. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

However, no matter how much they searched, there was no information about Red Moon.

Tap tap tap tap tap.

“Daehan Minguk.”

The team leader gave a thumbs-up to the junior officer.

“Our rookie’s a patriot? How does a young guy even know this stuff?”

“I’ve rewatched a lot of recordings.”

“Dude, that’s not the point. Can’t you see how serious Haesu looks?”

“Yeah, same here. If Red Moon is this hard to track down, that makes it even more suspicious.”

“Her male contacts were just clients. That Jin guy doesn’t seem like a client, so should we meet him?”

Haesu pondered deeply, then stood up.

“I’ll visit the prison.”

Gangjin Correctional Facility—Visitor Room

It was an open room with no partitions between visitors and inmates.

Screeech.

Former Congressman Kim Sang-tae appeared. The moment he saw Haesu, he smirked, lifting one corner of his mouth.

“Why would the man who put me here come to visit?”

Haesu casually tapped the shoulder of the guard who had escorted Kim Sang-tae.

“Turn off the CCTV and audio surveillance.”

“Yes, Detective.”

At those words, Kim Sang-tae flinched, hesitating before slowly taking a seat.

“Shin Ira is dead.”

“…What?”

“It was a staged suicide. Do you have any leads?”

Kim Sang-tae’s pupils wavered slightly.

“I-I don’t know anything.”

“Think carefully. If the one who killed Shin Ira is someone connected to you, then you’re next. I can protect you.”

Kim Sang-tae glanced behind him, then swept his gaze around the room before leaning forward and whispering.

“How…?”

“I’ll arrange a quiet prison transfer and keep you in solitary confinement until the case is closed.”

“S-Solitary? That’s a bit…”

“The choice is yours—die here or survive.”

“Ha… I knew I’d get dragged into this mess.”

He scanned the area once more, then cautiously opened his mouth.

“So, how did I… how did I first meet that woman, you ask…?”

Kim Sang-tae ended up at Red Moon after following a senior prosecutor, who was also his training academy colleague.

At Red Moon, every woman passing by in the hallway was stunningly beautiful. Even for Kim Sang-tae, who had visited his fair share of high-end clubs, this was a first.

“…When you go there for the first time, you have to hand over your phone. If you contact them with that phone, they’ll pick you up no matter where you are. Of course, I went often. I thought it was heaven, not realizing it was a hell disguised as heaven.”

Since privacy was perfectly protected from entry to exit, even a National Assembly member like Kim Sang-tae felt at ease.

“…The manager there is a woman in her forties called Madam Yu. The women, including Shin Ira, were terrified of her. It wasn’t obvious on the surface, but you could feel it—deep within, an immense fear had taken root. Their eyes, their tone, even their smallest actions…”

He mimicked the fearful gaze of the women, hesitating with his hands as if unsure where to place them.

“I don’t know about others, but I’m good at reading people. It wasn’t just an employer-employee relationship.”

It seemed this was the first time Kim Sang-tae had ever spoken openly about Red Moon. Without Haesu's prompting, he eagerly continued.

“That place has an unusual number of guards. Among them, there are guys called ‘chiefs.’ Just making eye contact with them is enough to send chills down your spine. Jin was one of them. Normally, chiefs don’t show themselves, but since I often looked for Shin Ira, I saw him frequently.”

“So Jin really is from Red Moon.”

“That’s right. Anyway, that place is terrifying.”

Kim Sang-tae crossed his arms and averted his gaze, as if he had said all he needed to say.

Haesu reached out, grabbed his chin, and locked eyes with him.

“Is that it? You need to spill everything so I can protect you. The reason you shielded Shin Ira to the point of pressuring the police, the secret you were still hiding even as you were sent to prison—you need to let it all out.”

“That’s obviously…”

Kim Sang-tae hesitated under Haesu's gaze, then sighed and slumped, speaking as if he had given up.

“Videos. Damn it… Those bastards have videos of everything. They lure people into addiction with drugs, turning their guests into slaves. I refused the drugs, of course. That would’ve been too obvious.”

He frantically waved his hands in denial. Haesu gestured for him to continue.

“When I saw that, I realized I was screwed. These guys were truly dangerous. They would do anything. But by the time I figured that out, it was already too late.”

If what he was saying was true, the number of high-ranking officials with their weaknesses exposed at Red Moon was unfathomable.

It was supposed to be an indie film, but it turned out to be a blockbuster.

“Where is Red Moon?”

“I don’t know. They pick you up in a car with heavily tinted windows, and the driver's seat is blocked with a metal plate. There was no need to worry about where I was being taken…”

The service started right from the pickup.

“You can’t just barge in there. Also, entrance is by recommendation only.”

“A recommendation… Do you have someone who can recommend us?”

“Only that senior prosecutor. But I don’t even know if he’s still doing well.”

Approaching the senior prosecutor might raise suspicion, considering Kim Sang-tae was the only Red Moon member he knew.

Then, Kim Sang-tae suddenly spoke in a hushed tone.

“I heard something from Shin Ira. There is one way…”

Kangjin Police Department, Major Crimes Office

The detectives of Team 1 were huddled together, whispering amongst themselves.

“…That should work.”

“Hmm… It’s a good plan, but the biggest problem… What about the money?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“So that rumor was true, huh? That you’re some hidden heir of a chaebol family…”

Shin Haesu cut off Oh Kang-seok’s words.

“I’ll go in with the rookie.”

At Haesu’s words, Oh Kang-seok protested.

“Why! I can do this too!”

“Kang-seok, you’re already disqualified from the start. My heart wants to take you, but… We’re backup on this one.”

“Ugh…”

Oh Kang-seok pretended to wipe away tears. The rookie suddenly shot up and shouted with enthusiasm.

“Leave it to me! I’ll do my best!”

[Queen Club]

Doom doom, doom doom—

The heavy beat of club music thumped loud enough to be heard from outside. A long line of young men and women stretched from the club’s entrance, divided into two sides, with multiple guards standing watch.

-Actor is entering.

-Copy that.

Vroooom—

From a distance, a low, powerful engine growled as a bright red sports car appeared. The emblem of a rearing horse gleamed under the lights.

It seemed as if the sports car would simply pass by, but then it suddenly veered toward the club’s entrance.

Screeeeeech—!

“Whoa—”

“Huh?!”

The sports car slammed to a stop just in front of the club. People flinched, fearing a collision.

The driver’s side door swung open, and a man in a bright red suit stepped out. His vest was neatly paired with a crisp tie—it was Shin Haesu.

From the passenger seat, the rookie, Woo Kang-cheol, emerged, dressed in a two-button striped suit. The murmurs of people who had been cursing their audacity instantly died down at their impressive physiques.

Haesu lazily scanned the stares directed at him. The moment his eyes met one of the guards, he suddenly lifted his car key high.

“Catch!”

Haesu tossed the key like a baseball, throwing it from above. The guard panicked and spread his hands wide.

Smack—

Luckily, the key landed perfectly in his hands, but it had been thrown so forcefully he nearly dropped it. That key alone was worth millions. The guard struggled to keep hold of it.

Watching this scene from afar, Oh Kang-seok and the team leader both exclaimed simultaneously:

-Oh! The spoiled rich kid act!

-Yo! Total brat mode!