The Lone Left-Hander
Han Jaejeong and Kang Youngman returned from meeting the managers of the restaurant and the Production Zone, but they hadn't turned up anything substantial.
Every household had knives, sure, but no one could say exactly how many or when they'd last been used.
Moreover, the restaurant had no precise records or testimony on their stock of kitchen knives.
In other words, they'd just grabbed whatever was handy.
"Damn, people prepping food all morning in a restaurant, and they don't even know how many kitchen knives they've got? You think that makes any sense?"
Kang Youngman grumbled, having found no solid evidence.
"Still, it's not a total bust."
"In what way?"
"The only places to get a knife are the restaurant and the Production Zone. So the killer stole it from one of those spots. Which means it had to be someone who could move around there freely. Folks from the Boundary Zone would've had a hard time pulling that off. Just a week ago, the fences would've stopped them cold."
"Ah! Right you are! That narrows it down nicely."
Kang Youngman clapped in admiration.
"Even if it fits the theory so far, it might not be the whole truth. A soldier out on patrol could've snagged a knife easy enough."
"True enough. And it's definitely not a combat knife. Wrong thickness, wrong size."
"That's what I think too."
The two were chatting back and forth as they left the Production Zone and headed for the barracks.
"Officer!"
Someone came running from afar, calling out to Jaejeong.
It was none other than the Work Leader.
He'd already rounded up the suspects, it seemed.
"Officer, whew, I need to get some exercise. Thought I was gonna drop running over here."
"Done already?"
"Yes, sir. Just like you said."
"Where are they?"
"Got 'em in the auditorium. Let's head there now."
Jaejeong followed the Work Leader to the school auditorium.
Youngman peeled off midway, vanishing down another path.
Inside the auditorium, it looked like a group assembly—people spaced one seat apart, chatting away busily.
The place was a chaotic buzz because of it.
The Work Leader stepped onto the stage and clapped sharply.
"Alright, alright! Quiet down. The officer's here, so let's cooperate fully. Sooner we wrap this up, the better, right?"
He forced a grin and yielded the stage to Jaejeong.
Jaejeong climbed up and scanned the crowd, staring each face down intently.
Is the killer in here?
The expressions looking back were all the same: curious, not anxious or fidgety.
They had no clue why they'd been gathered.
After eyeing them silently for a moment, Jaejeong spoke slowly.
"Thanks for coming out despite the hassle. Let's get started. Everyone here... raise your hand if you're right-handed."
Some shot their hands up right away, others glanced around before raising theirs, and a few grumbled in conversation before reluctantly complying. Reactions varied.
"You can sit if you're going back down."
The murmurs grew louder.
No surprise—out of the hundred-plus people assembled, only one was left-handed.
The lone man not raising his hand started to look increasingly uneasy.
He knew whatever this was about, he was the only one left behind.
He was the guy who'd gotten beaten down by First in the park not long ago.
Naturally, his crew stayed seated with him, refusing to budge.
And they weren't quiet about their objections.
"Come on, how many lefties are there even? Should've just brought the left-handers from the start."
"Shouldn't you explain why we're doing this first?"
Jaejeong waved them off with a tired look.
"Too complicated to explain here. Just a few quick questions and we're done, so bear with me. Head out for now."
They grumbled but had no choice with Jaejeong's firm tone.
One by one, they filed out of the auditorium.
Then Jaejeong's gaze casually swept over and landed on the Work Leader.
"You too. Go sit."
"Huh?"
"Sit down. You're left-handed too."
"No... I already did mine earlier. And aren't we on the same side?"
The Work Leader looked aggrieved at Jaejeong's sudden shift.
"Yeah, we are. But we do what needs doing. How's it look leaving that guy up here alone? You're just gonna stand there with your ass planted?"
"Even so, I've got my pride..."
"Got it."
Jaejeong's face hardened, smile gone.
Finally reading the room, the Work Leader swallowed hard and hustled down to the stage, sitting beside the man to await further instructions.
"Listen up."
As the last stragglers left, Jaejeong turned to the man with a curt edge.
"Everything you say from now on can be used against you later, so choose your words carefully. And it all better be the truth. If it turns out you're lying, that's on you."
The man's face drained to ashen at Jaejeong's words and sudden intensity.
"What? What's this all about?"
"Ahem."
Jaejeong tilted his head, staring down at him.
Locking eyes with the man's desperate innocence, he said:
"We found a body. By the river."
"So? Why tell me?"
The man's eyes darted nervously.
Am I being fingered as the killer?
"Quick autopsy turned up that the killer's left-handed."
"And?"
"You're left-handed. Only one with motive connected to the victim."
"That's ridiculous..."
"I'll decide if it is."
"I swear, I'm innocent. I couldn't hurt a fly."
Jaejeong stepped down from the stage, closing in right on him with a relaxed expression.
"I get it, I do. Just answer the questions. You know Yong Tattoo?"
"...Yeah."
"You're here 'cause you crossed paths with him. Spill. Work Leader'll confirm if it's true."
"Got it."
The man glanced between Jaejeong and the Work Leader, then spoke.
"We fought. Not a light scuffle—got ugly."
"Why?"
"That bastard openly hit on my girlfriend."
"So you beat him?"
"Nah. He jumped me first."
He was one of the guys who'd tangled with Beom-sik's brothers recently.
The one First had stomped and spat on.
He recounted the humiliation in detail, trembling with rage.
The shame still burned fresh.
"And then?"
"And then... what?"
"What happened next."
"Told my brother, we all met up and fought. Work Leader showed up and broke it off."
"That right?"
Jaejeong turned to the Work Leader.
"Yes. Spot on."
"When was this?"
Back to the man.
"About a week ago. Oh, yeah—the blackout. That night."
"The blackout."
Something clicked in Jaejeong's mind, half-formed.
A puzzle piece slotting in, then slipping away.
A week lined up with the estimated time of death.
If it was five days max, that left two days unaccounted for.
And per Yong Tattoo's brothers via Youngman, the victim had vanished the day after the blackout.
He pressed on.
"Where were you that night?"
"Don't remember exactly. Home, obviously. Who recalls every detail from a week ago? Come on."
"Did you step out at all? Even for a piss or water?"
"No... Our building's toilet's outside. Guys don't go together."
The man looked plaintive.
But Jaejeong had no leeway.
No solid alibi, and he checked too many boxes.
"Next day?"
"None of us left the house after that. Soldiers said we were in the wrong too, kept us locked down."
"Who can vouch?"
The man glanced at the Work Leader beside him.
"Yes. I enforced it. Afraid they'd clash again."
"You watch him all day?"
"Soldiers were guarding. No way out."
"Hm..."
The statements held water for now.
No reason for the Work Leader to lie, even without the man.
Jaejeong crouched to meet the man's eyes level.
"Listen. Putting it all together—your situation, your story—you're the prime suspect."
"No, I swear!"
"Prime suspect doesn't mean guilty. Just that you fit the profile perfectly. Good news is, it's been less than a day, and there's no hard evidence yet."
"So I can go?"
"No."
"You said no evidence! I'm innocent!"
The man shouted, agitated.
"Circumstantial evidence. Your timeline overlaps the crime perfectly. Motive's solid. So until this is solved, you're in isolation."
"Fuck! I didn't do it!"
"Even isolated, without proof or confession, we can't touch you. Think of it as precaution. We'll do this by the book, so don't sweat it."
"By the book? This is arrest! Fuck the law—who's signing the warrant?"
"Come in."
At Jaejeong's call, the auditorium door swung open.
Kang Youngman entered, with Kim Chan-yeol and Choi Hoon behind him.
Rifles slung, they waited at the entrance for orders.
Jaejeong eyed the man once more.
"We'll keep you fed and comfortable. You might be guilty, might not. Evidence will tell. Few days at most. Take him."
Kim Chan-yeol and Choi Hoon flanked him, hauling him out.
He bellowed his innocence the whole way.
Watching him go, Jaejeong let out a long sigh and pulled a cigarette.
Youngman lit it for him.
"You really think that's our guy?"
"Dunno. Gut says no. But we can't go by feelings. Too little to verify, so we push the suspects."
"Fair. Doesn't strike me as a killer either."
"Can't judge by looks. Death row's full of pretty faces. Hey, Work Leader. Go tell his housemates—no one moves a muscle. And at dawn, bring his girlfriend and both brothers."
The Work Leader bowed hastily and bolted.
"I know this won't help right now, but that Work Leader..."
Youngman said, watching him go.
"Gives me the creeps."
"Yeah. Eyes rub me wrong."
"Your instincts are spot on, as always. What's next? If he's not the guy, it gets messier."
"Maybe."
Like Youngman said, the man might be innocent.
So Jaejeong planned to focus on him and his circle, but keep all doors open.
If it hit a dead end, announcing it safe-zone-wide wasn't a bad call.
Might draw out witnesses.
That was the upside of going public.
The virus had claimed countless lives, but the safe zone fixated on this one death.
The end was the same—death.
But the process mattered.
Monsters or virus killing was one thing; man killing man, another entirely.
Fail to sort this, and the safe zone would crumble from within.
Jaejeong shared some of Park Yi-hyun-seok's mindset there.
Infected People