A Detective's Hunch
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Bong Jun-man, the violent crimes detective from Jinglebell Police Station's major crimes division, had been reassigned to the National Investigation Headquarters' Major Crimes Investigation Task Force. It was all because of the special circumstances surrounding the Leon Mask case.
However, the looks he got within the task force weren't exactly friendly. They'd gone over a month without so much as a lead on the perp, let alone an arrest, and the pressure from above was no joke.
Of course, the bold Jun-man brushed off those stares without a care. This wasn't his first rodeo. He figured he was lucky to be in major crimes—a spot most avoided. Otherwise, an outsider like him would've been sidelined to a desk job ages ago.
"Central HQ making moves? This is some serious shit, huh."
His subordinate detective, An Geun-sik, muttered in an exhausted voice. Jun-man shot him a glare and fired back.
"You investigating this case and you don't even grasp how bad it is?"
"I get it, sure. But honestly, wouldn't it be better for Korea if we just... didn't catch Leon Mask?"
"You fucking psycho."
With that, he tore open a bag of red bean buns. The two were staking out in front of a villa. It was day two of pulling all-nighters in the cramped car.
"Who the hell are we even waiting for, anyway?"
"Some punk with bleach-blond hair lives in that villa. He's looking real suspicious, y'know?"
"Suspicious how? Got any evidence?"
"Yeah. My gut. Fuck, that's better than any evidence. You know what a detective's instinct is? Nah, a green rookie like you wouldn't."
"That's why the boss keeps going off half-cocked with no basis, and now everyone's talking shit upstairs. I'm the one eating all the side-eye because of it. Sigh~ At home, the wife treats me like dirt. At work, the higher-ups chew me out. My life's a real tragedy."
"You little shit—ain't a detective's gut reason enough? You got any idea how many perps I nab a year on this instinct?"
"How many?"
"Hell if I know, kid."
Jun-man spat it out bitterly and smacked Geun-sik on the back of the head.
"Ow! Why'd you hit me?!"
"To knock some sense into you, dumbass. Now keep eyes on that entrance."
Jun-man pointed at the villa entrance.
"That punk's definitely shady. Spotted him lurking near the crime scene last time—been feeling it ever since. But this is day two and the bastard hasn't come home?"
Just as Jun-man reached for his milk, a flashy tanned blond guy rounded the corner.
"There—the fucker."
He set down his milk and hopped out of the car. No hard evidence meant it was time to get physical. That was par for the course in major crimes. And as routine as it was, Jun-man's moves were smooth as silk.
"Boss! What're you doing?!"
"Spot check. Guy looks suspicious as hell."
He approached the man and flashed his badge.
"Bong Jun-man, team leader of Jinglebell Police Station Major Crimes Division Team 1. Investigating the ongoing Leon Mask incidents. Mind if I ask a few questions?"
"Nope."
The man brushed past casually. Jun-man stared at his back in disbelief.
"That guy's no ordinary punk."
Without catching him red-handed, no warrant meant no forced stop. Jun-man watched him enter the villa. The sheer ballsiness only fueled his suspicions.
'Playing it cocky, huh?'
"That the guy?"
Back home, I checked the window outside. That cop had to be the one Park Il-pyo mentioned. Come to think of it, I remembered his face.
'But how'd he peg me as Leon Mask?'
No memory of slipping up. And that detective wasn't some side character from the original anime with special powers or anything.
Cops like him never showed up in the original or even the crossover Soul Community stuff. So yeah, pure gut instinct on his part.
Letting a sharp-nosed bastard like that live long ain't smart. Guys who run on instinct over logic turn into wild cards outta nowhere. Better nip threats in the bud.
'Time to bury him.'
I sealed the detective's fate right then.
Fired up the computer, hit the net—news feeds crammed with Leon Mask stories. Netizens playing armchair Conan, deducing his identity left and right, but nothing pointed at me.
'Everything's going smooth. Perfect.'
Life's got momentum: good snowballs good, bad snowballs bad. I'm riding the positive wave now.
Cleaning up the underworld with Leon Mask gigs while swaying public opinion my way. Slowly folding legit corps into my pocket. Then Korea. Then the world.
Sounds like kid stuff to outsiders, but I've got the juice for it. Gotta watch the magical girls and special types in Soul Community, though.
'Soul Community's a collab of four creations. Get cocky over brainwashing a few magical girls, and you're done.'
Stay vigilant, push forward hard. That's my MO for now.
'All this real-world stress melting away.'
I scanned the news society section. Time to pick Leon Mask's next target.
'Gotta toss the trash now and then to keep opinion on my side. This time... school bullies seem safe.'
Beating down iljins always lights up the net. Probably kids getting picked on venting online. Same everywhere. People are people.
"Sigh~ Red bean buns. Sick of 'em."
An Geun-sik, the rookie of Jinglebell Police Station's Major Crimes Team 1, tore open a bun bag with a wry chuckle. Red bean buns were stakeout staples—no smell in the car, easy to eat, ready to roll anytime.
But other foods fit the bill too. Truth was, his boss's outdated tastes locked him into red bean buns.
Since joining the force, he'd eaten more than in his whole life before. Now just the sight turned his stomach.
"Boss really thinks that guy's Leon Mask?"
He pictured Jun-man, who'd stepped out to the john. Deep down, he didn't buy this "detective's gut" crap. Catching crooks needed science and logic. If hunches worked, why bother with forensics?
Yet the old-timers swore by it. Geun-sik couldn't wrap his head around it. And unluckily, the old-timers ran the show.
"No wonder HQ's ripping us."
Muttering curses at his senior while eyeing the villa, the guy emerged. Geun-sik swallowed hard and grabbed the radio. Jun-man was still in the bathroom.
"Boss. Target's out."
"Ugh! Watch the filthy mouth."
"Got it."
Geun-sik slipped out of the stakeout car. Tail was his Achilles' heel, just like the boss said.
The guy strolled down the main road, boarded a village bus at the nearby stop. Geun-sik followed at a distance.
"Boss. He's on the bus."
"98."
"Yes, sir."
The bus was half-empty. Geun-sik took the back row—prime for observation.
The guy sat mid-bus. As it pulled out, he suddenly stood and headed Geun-sik's way.
Geun-sik panicked but kept a straight face. Cops don't sweat in front of suspects. Even if this guy wasn't confirmed guilty.
He tried calming down, but his body wouldn't cooperate. Jun-man's absence loomed large.
The guy plopped down right next to him. Without prompting, he spoke first.
"Detective?"
"Uh... yeah."
Geun-sik blurted it out dumbly. Police academy training? Blank. He cringed at his own rookie response.
The guy smirked at the naive reply, the twist mocking him. Rage bubbled, but words failed.
This guy's different.
Rookie or not, Geun-sik was major crimes. He'd faced plenty of perps, even murderers.
Hardcore criminals had this intangible pressure—unlike civilians. Like they were born looking down on people. Hard to pin down.
'Is this the "gut" the boss meant?'
The random thought hit.
No reply, so the guy spoke again.
"Some detective stopped me earlier for a pat-down. Leon Mask case, he said."
"Oh... yeah?"
"You with that crew?"
He emphasized "crew" like it stung. Accurate but insulting. Were cops a gang?
Then again, Jun-man fit the bill. Long-time major crimes vets blurred lines with thugs. They'd even recruit retiring gangsters.
"Can't say."
Geun-sik mustered that. Not perfect, but passable.
'Why do I feel overwhelmed by this guy...'
The seat felt like hot coals. Like being grilled by a prosecutor. Him, a detective, feeling this? Wild.
"No idea how much trouble Leon Mask's giving you cops that you're hassling an upstanding citizen like me."
The guy chuckled. Geun-sik shut his eyes, lips sealed.
Words clawed at his throat. Instinct screamed: don't say it. He bit his lip hard.
The bus TV droned the news. Eyes drifted to it—fittingly, Leon Mask. Lately, that's all the channels ran.
The guy smirked at the screen.
"Cops still spinning wheels, huh."
Sneering tone. Insulted? Or the guy's aura cracking him? Geun-sik slipped.
"Do we even need to catch him?"
"Pardon? What're you saying?"
Too late—Geun-sik doubled down.
"Leon Mask. Do we really gotta nab him...? Just a thought."
"Oh ho. Aren't you a detective?"
"Freedom of thought in Korea."
The guy looked delighted.