Code Zero

The Target Location Search allowed at Level 1 came with a restriction: it only worked within my search range.

Since leveling up, I had arrested a total of fifteen wanted fugitives, expanding my search radius to 105 kilometers.

If I drove around for just half a day, the entire country of South Korea, excluding a few islands, would fall within my range.

This alone made me invincible.

However, I currently had no way of knowing whether the person I located was the actual culprit or not.

It was nothing more than a navigation system that pointed me toward the information I needed.

Would this issue be resolved once my level got higher?

"It's not certain yet."

That was the answer to my question about whether Nam Junghmo had been framed.

Sergeant Hyeon Jubaek, who had been stonewalling me under the guise of security, was finally backing down.

One of the bolts had finally slid open.

"So you're saying he's at least not the culprit who raided the armory?"

"Searching the hermitage should make things clearer."

"And if nothing turns up there?"

"..."

"He had a gun, yet he resisted the detective who came to arrest him with a knife? Does that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠make any sense to you?"

"That is why we need to verify."

"How many firearms and rounds went missing?"

"I cannot tell you. It is classified."

Sergeant Hyeon locked the bolt right back up.

Should I try guessing again?

"It was probably one or two firearms, and the ammunition must have been far more than the number of victims. The number of bullets in a single magazine..."

"Please do not speculate blindly. Someone's life is on the line here!"

Whose life was on the line?

Sergeant Hyeon himself? Or Nam Junghmo, who was locked up in a holding cell under a false accusation?

Two years had already passed since the incident.

Sergeant Hyeon must have been obsessing over this case for the past two years.

His mental fatigue had to be immense.

Pushing him any further would just be harassment.

"Understood. The mountain is quite steep, so you should eat up. Please, help yourself."

As if by unspoken agreement, the three of us focused entirely on our food.

Once Private First Class Choi finished eating, Sergeant Hyeon sent him back to the parking lot.

"Go down first, refuel the vehicle, and wait in the parking lot."

"Yes, Sergeant."

"Shall we head up now?"

"Let's do that."

I took the lead, and Sergeant Hyeon followed behind.

We walked in silence until we reached Nam Junghmo's hideout.

After about an hour of hiking, we finally arrived at the hermitage.

The desolate place contained nothing but some cooking utensils used for meals and a few changes of clothes.

My guess was correct once again.

"One K2 rifle and two magazines went missing."

Sergeant Hyeon finally answered the question I had asked earlier, now that Private Choi was far out of earshot.

"Two magazines...?"

"Twenty live rounds per magazine. A total of forty rounds of ammunition were lost."

"I heard five shell casings were found at the murder scene. That means thirty-five rounds are still unaccounted for. We can't easily assume they were discarded, can we?"

"Yes."

"If Nam Junghmo didn't do it, who took them?"

"I don't know who, but it must have been the real killer."

"Who was the one who testified that Nam Junghmo stole the weapons?"

"...It was me."

Sergeant Hyeon hung his head.

"At the time, there was no room for doubt. A weapon theft had occurred at the unit Nam Junghmo served in, and immediately after, his ex-girlfriend, her family, and his current lover were murdered one by one."

"So you rushed the announcement?"

Sergeant Hyeon nodded silently.

Having resolved to reveal everything, he began spilling details I hadn't even asked about.

"Nam Junghmo's alibi came to light too late. We secured a statement from a fishing boat captain who gave Nam Junghmo a ride to a rocky shore off Daecheon on the very day the rifle and ammunition were stolen."

"Then you should reveal the truth now, shouldn't you?"

"...It's not as easy as it sounds."

"Why?"

"It's highly unlikely our Special Task Force Commander will approve it. It would mean he'd have to contradict the very announcement he made himself two years ago."

If there was any organization more conservative than the police, it was the military. When a superior tried to cover up the truth, subordinates had only two choices.

Obedience or disobedience.

"Don't worry. I will make a whistleblowing statement to set things right. Even if it means I have to take off this uniform."

When he said someone's life was on the line, he had been referring to himself.

"Let's go. I'll drive you back to the station."

"Ah, yes."

On the drive back, a silence so heavy it felt dangerous to break filled the car.

I returned to Seongam Police Station with five minutes left before my shift ended.

As soon as I arrived, I went straight to the Chief's office.

"Loyalty! I have returned, sir."

"Ah, good work. Do you want some coffee?"

"No, thank you. I'll report on my progress first."

"Sit down first."

I wanted to wrap this up quickly and go home, but the Chief leisurely began brewing coffee.

"An acquaintance of mine just sent over some Colombian beans. He bragged so much about the exquisite flavor that I couldn't resist trying them."

The gentle aroma of coffee filled the Chief's office, but my insides were burning with anxiety.

It would take at least five hours to drive down to Imja Island in Sinan County.

Even if I was lucky enough to find the wanted fugitive, it would be a grueling ten-hour round trip. And I had to work again the next day.

I might die of overwork before I could even level up.

"So, did you achieve the desired results?"

"I found nothing, sir."

"I figured as much."

He figured as much? Does that mean he expected this?

The Chief pushed the freshly brewed coffee toward me.

"Drink up. You have to drink it while it's hot to truly appreciate the aroma."

"Thank you, sir."

I had come prepared to roll up my pants and take a beating, so what was with this unexpected kindness?

I was the one who had bypassed all my direct superiors to have a private meeting with the Commissioner General of the National Police Agency.

Just scold me already.

I was ready to take any cursing or yelling he threw at me, so why was he dragging this out?

"How is it? Good, right?"

What was with that good-natured smile?

Had the police performance evaluation system suddenly changed from top-down to bottom-up?

That was highly unlikely, but his attitude was enough to make me wonder.

"Do you know what Sergeant Hyeon is looking for?"

"I heard it's a K2 rifle and ammunition."

"Did he tell you that?"

"I made an educated guess, and Sergeant Hyeon admitted it."

"It couldn't have been easy for him to admit."

"He said he wanted to correct it himself since it resulted from his own mistake. He seemed to be feeling guilty."

"How does he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠plan to correct it?"

"He plans to report it to his superiors, resign, and make a public confession to the press. He also asked me to keep it a secret until he goes to the media."

"It's a secret, yet I already know about it?"

"I believed clearing the suspect's name was more important than Sergeant Hyeon's personal confession. Besides, you aren't an outsider, Chief."

"Heh. True."

As I answered the Chief's questions, I was inwardly impressed.

Perhaps because of his background in the intelligence division, his ability to coax answers out of me was a work of art.

I would have to stay on my toes around him.

The Chief naturally moved on to the next question.

"Did you say the K2 rifle and ammunition were the only weapons stolen from the military base?"

"Yes, sir. One rifle and two magazines. Excluding the five shell casings found at the crime scene, the remaining bullets are estimated to be thirty-five."

"It would be thirty-four."

"No, sir. It is thirty-five."

"Well, is it?"

The Chief picked up his coffee cup, a strange glint in his eyes.

I had heard directly from Sergeant Hyeon that thirty-five rounds remained.

My memory wasn't bad enough to confuse five and four.

Sorry, but you're wrong this time.

It was at that moment.

A siren blared loudly from the speakers installed on each floor.

It was an emergency dispatch order issued by the Gyeonggi Nambu Provincial Police Agency.

An eleven-year-old girl had been kidnapped.

The kidnapper's demand was two billion won.

The initial call had ended with a notification that they would call back in one hour.

The Gyeonggi Nambu Agency had declared a Code Zero across its entire jurisdiction.

"What are you doing? Get moving."

The Chief said, setting down his coffee cup.

The current time was 6:30 PM.

Now that a Code Zero had been issued, going home was out of the question.

"Loyalty! I'll head out, sir."

*At this rate, I won't be able to go to Imja Island today.*

Code Zero is the highest level of police dispatch order, primarily issued by the 112 Emergency Situation Room to respond to crimes against children or violent crimes in progress.

Kidnappings of young children have an extremely short golden window; without a swift response, the probability of it ending in death is very high.

"Inspector Choi, Detective Park, where is your assigned area?"

"We're assigned to the public phone inside Central Park."

"Don't forget to keep your radios on, and get moving."

"Yes, sir."

Team Leader Na Sangdo, who had already slung his bag over his shoulder to go home, was urging the team members forward.

Before I could even sit down after coming down from the Chief's office, he grabbed my arm and pulled me along.

"Oh, Detective Min is here too. You and the rookie get in my car."

"Are you coming too, Team Leader?"

"Why, am I not allowed to go?"

"It's not that, but didn't you say your knees hurt too much to chase criminals?"

"This punk is treating me like a retired old man."

"I'm just saying you shouldn't overexert yourself."

"I don't want to overexert myself either, but isn't this the first Code Zero situation for both you and Detective Jeong? I'm tag-teaming with you guys for educational purposes."

"You really don't have to tag along."

"Quiet. Get in. We don't have time to waste."

Since it was his car, Team Leader Na took the wheel.

"Please sit in the back, senior. I'll take the front."

Detective Jeong insisted on putting me in the back seat while he took the passenger seat.

"Sitting in the back is comfortable for me. Thanks."

The reason Jeong Uijeong insisted on sitting in the front was to ask Team Leader Na as many questions as he wanted.

"By the way, where are we heading right now?"

"The public phone in front of the post office. That's your assigned sector."

"Do kidnappers usually use public phones?"

"That's just human psychology. It's easier to reach for a public phone that guarantees anonymity rather than a cell phone. But these days, even that's changing. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry carries burner phones."

"If they call from a public phone, is it quick to trace the location?"

"It's possible if we have tracking equipment. But it takes time."

"Is that why they intentionally try to keep them on the line until the location is locked?"

"You've watched a lot of movies, haven't you?"

"Haha, yes, sir."

"Maybe because of movies, they rarely use public phones these days. The bastards already know their location will get blown instantly."

"Ah..."

"If ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we're lucky and the kidnapper does use a public phone, the stakeout will end quickly. The police dispatched all over Gyeonggi Province will be hiding and watching every single public phone booth."

"Ah, I see."

Jeong Uijeong's eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm.

Come to think of it, this was the first time I had brought Detective Jeong out to the field.

The rookie was beyond motivated; his eyes looked ready to shoot fire.

"We're here."

Had it been about ten minutes since we left?

Team Leader Na quietly pulled over across from the post office and turned off the engine.

"Rookie. See that phone booth over there? From now on, don't look away for even a second. Keep your eyes glued to it. If we get a radio call, you have to run over and grab them immediately."

"What if we don't get a radio call?"

"Then we wait until the situation is cleared. Why? Do you have plans?"

"No plans, but I think my grandmother might be waiting for me."

"If you think she'll worry, give her a call in advance."

"No, it's fine. If it looks like it's going to run late, I can call her then."

"Suit yourself."

Detective Jeong didn't take his eyes off the booth for a single second.

Leaving the surveillance to the rookie, Team Leader Na and I just stared at our phones.

Team Leader Na was exchanging text messages with his colleagues.

"Wow, they say the kidnapped kid is Jin Sarang, the daughter of Gukil Law Firm's representative."

Gukil Law Firm was one of the top three law firms in the country, led by representative Jin Jiman.

The head of a mammoth legal organization with over a thousand lawyers and a consecutive five-year revenue of one trillion won had lost his child.

And it was his only daughter, whom he had finally had well past the age of forty.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Jeong Uijeong showed interest and asked, "How did he lose her?"

"Apparently, her uncle took her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to an amusement park, and she went missing while he stepped away to the restroom for a moment."

"In times like this, shouldn't we suspect the closest person first?"

"Who, the uncle? Do you know what that uncle does for a living?"

"What does he do?"

"He's Jin Jongguk, the representative of Taepyeong Fisheries, a wholesaler specializing in importing lobsters from Russia and Australia. Some say half of the lobsters brought into the country are imported by him. Why would a guy like that kidnap his own niece?"

"Hmm. Both brothers are rich, then. I guess even rich people lose their kids."

"Who can stop it when someone targets you deliberately? Even if you have bodyguards attached to you twenty-four hours a day, you can't prevent it."

"But Team Leader, what is the golden window for a kidnapping case?"

"It varies depending on the age and situation of the kidnapped child, but for toddlers who are hard to control, it's short. As quick as two to three hours? For kids old enough to understand instructions, it's relatively longer."

"How old is Sarang?"

"She's in the fifth grade, so twelve?"

"If she's a twelve-year-old girl, the golden window is...?"

"Up to forty-eight hours, usually."

Staring at my phone, I muttered in response to Team Leader Na's words.

"...There's only one hour left."

"Huh? What is?"

"Once an hour passes, the child dies."

"What kind of nonsense is that? How are we going to find her in an hour? Detective Min, what are you looking at right now?"

I was looking at my phone.

Even at this very moment, the golden window was ticking down without pause.