Faceless Killer (3)
It felt like sand was lodged in his throat. His voice cracked.
"This is a murder case. To be precise, it started as a suicide, but it ended in homicide."
"What do you mean by that?"
He carefully lifted the hand of the high school girl, now stiffening with rigor mortis.
"Take a close look at the back of her hand."
"Th-this is!"
The back of the corpse's hand was bruised purple, with burst capillaries.
The last scene recorded in the girl's eyes flashed before him. It wasn't crystal clear, but the progression was vivid enough—a gray-tinted video etched in memory.
"And check this out over here!"
The door knob that controlled the internal locks inside the vehicle. It was snapped clean off.
"Then... n-no way!"
Lee Gyu-cheol's eyes widened in horror as he finally pieced together the sequence of events.
"That's right. We don't know yet where or how these three met. But the ones who decided on death lit a thunderbolt flare inside the car and planned to meet their end there."
The girl's slender eyelashes trembled faintly in the breeze. A message reached him.
We're on our last road now—let's go easy.
Someone might have suggested it. Or maybe she just didn't want others to see her dying.
And so the three met their ends in separate seats. The lighter in the driver's hand clicked. It lit on the first try, almost disappointingly easy. White smoke seeped from the thunderbolt flare. The driver's head lolled weakly. Then the young man in the second row slumped sideways. The girl's eyes shook. This is death. Terror finally crashed in. I want to live!
Snap! He opened his eyes.
The girl's scream still echoed in his ears. Ten years in violent crimes sometimes brought voices of the dead like this. A gift he could never take lightly—one that came with the duty to resolve their grudges.
"This girl changed her mind. She wanted to live. The moment she tried to open the door and escape, someone forced her back inside. That's how she got the injury on her hand, and these bloodstains came from that struggle."
Faint droplets of blood dotted the third-row door where his gaze landed.
"And see these footprints? The rain yesterday blurred them, but someone was definitely there."
Centered around the back seat where the girl had been, the prints were visible. By size, an adult male.
"He shoved the girl back in and broke the door knob so she couldn't open it from inside. She thrashed desperately to escape. Her broken nails prove it."
"So you're saying there was a third party watching their deaths...?"
Gyu-cheol's reddened eyes turned to the girl.
"And that third party drove the girl—who wanted to live—into death too! Right? What the hell...!"
The young man's shoulders shook violently. Veins bulged blue over his clenched fists.
"Let's start with canvassing the victims' associates. We'll catch this bastard."
He got into the car with Gyu-cheol. A strange sense of déjà vu kept nagging at him. The characters and setting differed from the case he remembered. But this vicious malice felt familiar somewhere.
Same stench, different shape.
* * *
"I understand your grief. But have you really never seen these people before?"
"How many times do I have to say it?! Yeji never met anyone like them!"
He showed photos of the two men who died with the girl, but all he got was fierce denial. The mother's throat bobbed violently. She hadn't accepted her child's death yet. Her knees trembled faintly, as if she'd collapse any second.
"I fully understand how Yeji’s mother feels right now. But without your help, her death will remain a mystery forever. We won’t be able to clear her name."
"What are you saying? Does that mean Yeji didn't kill herself?"
The mother's eyes widened.
"We're keeping all possibilities open for now. But by any chance..."
He trailed off.
"...has Yeji acted or said anything unusual lately? Even something small."
Her eyes flickered, then she broke into sobs, unable to hold back.
"Actually, I think she was being bullied at school. She kept losing her clothes and bag. Her uniform had dirt on it sometimes. I should have noticed... It's all my fault."
* * *
"Hyungnim, does this even make sense? Three people die together in the same place at the same time. And none of them knew each other?!"
Gyu-cheol gripped the wheel tightly as he spoke in a heated tone. Street trees whipped past the window.
Kim Chang-sik, 51. Hyeong Min-gyu, 32. And Yoon Yeji, 18, whose guardian they'd just interviewed. The three had met for the first time on the day they died. No shared residence, hobbies, or age. Their only common thread: lives so hard they dreamed of death.
Kim Chang-sik had been a goose dad for 15 years. Stocks started to cover rising education costs turned to trash, and he got a resignation nudge from work.
Hyeong Min-gyu broke up recently after his fiancée dumped him. Colleagues said the hardworking guy had been missing work a lot. His ex was a suspect but had an alibi abroad on the day.
"For now, do a digital forensic on Yeji's phone and laptop. Kids that age leave their whole lives in their devices. Something's bound to turn up."
"Yes, sir!"
The fast scenery outside matched the spin in his head. He knew this case. If it had ended as a stranger pact suicide with no connections, it might've been just tabloid fodder. But the bastard revealed himself. That unique malice and persistence—no copycat could fake it.
His eyes narrowed at the passing view.
* * *
"Fuck!"
A harsh curse exploded from the penthouse top floor. Tchaikovsky's symphony, usually echoing softly, was gone. Only ragged breaths filled the vast room.
The plan went wrong.
He bit his lip. He'd gathered sufferers via his site. Pitiful worms craving death but lacking guts or know-how. Triggering them to off themselves was child's play.
As always, he rushed to the scene. People followed his script. Moths to flame, choosing death. Scenes more satisfying than any masterpiece film.
But! The script broke. Yoon Yeji, was it? She writhed to survive. A flaw in his perfect crime.
No choice. For the work's completion, he exposed himself for the first time.
What's the risk of variables from that exposure...?
His brain raced. Breathing steadied.
No CCTV at the scene. Rain erased footprints. No prints or DNA left. Only trace: Yeji's wounds. Not enough to ID him.
Still, better play it safe for a while.
He nodded quietly.
* * *
"Lieutenant Kang Cheol-gu, the autopsy results from the National Forensic Service are in. As you said, all three died of direct carbon monoxide poisoning. But Yoon Yeji had severe bruising on her hand right before death. And a broken nail fragment was found under the seat."
"Any traces from anyone else besides the victims?"
Officer Heo Seon-sil flipped through the file as she reported flatly.
"No. We checked footprints, but only that they were from an adult male, size 270, nothing more."
He nodded. As expected—no traces.
Then.
"Hyungnim, something's off!"
Detective Lee Gyu-cheol burst into the Violent Crimes Team 3 office. Dark circles hung heavy under his sleepless eyes.
"I checked Yeji's laptop and the other victims' computers. They all visited the same site recently!"
"Figured out what the site is?"
"Not yet. It's on the Dark Web."
"Dark Web?"
His eyebrow twitched. The bastard recruited and controlled victims there. Suspicion hardened to certainty. The killer in the fog showed his faint outline.
He closed his eyes quietly.
One year from now, 2014. A serial suicide spree rocked Korea. It started with a high school girl's plunge. No one knew it was the disaster's spark.
Suicides spread like a trend. After many deaths, police investigated and uncovered a shadow behind it all. A cult-leader type lurking in internet anonymity.
Media dubbed him the "Faceless Killer." They called him "Oppenheimer"—after the U.S. genius physicist who built the atomic bomb, and his online ID.
He had a year before starting... So why now?
Something triggered him early? Questions piled, but he shook his head.
A guy playing with lives? Fine if he played with that bastard's.
In his past life, police failed to catch him. The case went cold; cops faced media fire. And lives that could've been saved were lost.
"Can we trace it?"
"No. Connection process uses data encryption, so IP tracking's impossible."
Gyu-cheol shook his head, staring at the black monitor.
Yeah. Of course.
"Search keywords and data cipher with J.R.O, fire up Tor Browser and connect. If not, try every existing browser!"
"J.R.O? What's that...? Got it, sir."
His raised voice quickened Gyu-cheol's breaths. The guy's hands shook turning on the laptop.
J.R.O: Julius Robert Oppenheimer's full name. If the bastard was really Oppenheimer, and this his doing, he'd be there in the Dark Web. Like a ghost haunting the net.
Tense time dragged. Clack-clack-clack! Only Gyu-cheol's furious typing echoed in Team 3.
Team Leader Hwang and Detective Kim Gwang-il, drawn by news of a lead, watched in silence.
How much time passed? Gyu-cheol stood, exhaling long. His bloodshot eyes gleamed.
"Hyungnim, I found it!"