I Became a Rookie Cop (4): The Breathing Cake Culprit
“Officer Kang.”
Even Raphael, the substation chief with his endlessly generous personality and infectious smile, couldn't keep a straight face this time.
“Mind the time and place. Just because I'm talking nicely doesn't mean this is some neighborhood uncle's hangout, right? A citizen's been robbed here, and you're in the mood for jokes?”
Raphael figured Kang Jin-ho was just messing around. A patrol officer—no, a rookie who'd barely finished onboarding today—claiming what? That this cake right here was the culprit? Was that even worth voicing?
Sure, Kang Jin-ho had been hailed as a genius back in police academy, but nailing the perp in a superpower-related case wasn't genius territory. That was superhuman domain. And as far as Raphael knew, Kang Jin-ho was powerless.
“Apologize now. We'll be seeing a lot of each other; I don't want bad blood on day one. We've got reports to file.”
Raphael scratched at his horn, letting out a quiet sigh. He'd had high hopes for the newbie, but this nonsense on the first day... the letdown stung.
“Hold on a sec.”
That's when Patrol Officer Park Eun-young chimed in smoothly.
“I don't think our Jin-ho would say something like that without reason. Let's hear him out first—it's not too late to judge after. Right, Jin-ho?”
“Y-Yes! Exactly!”
He had no idea why it was suddenly “our Jin-ho,” but Kang Jin-ho nodded anyway. He'd planned for this before blurting it out.
I've already got the culprit pegged.
This cake was definitely the perp. It was one of the cases he'd solved in Hero City Simulator—memorable for its clever trick.
But nailing the culprit wasn't the point. Convincing everyone how he'd figured it out—that was key. No way could he say, “Saw it in a game!” or “My secret superpower told me.”
He had to explain convincingly why this cake was guilty and how he'd spotted it. Superpower crimes weren't purely logical, but it needed to sound plausible enough for “Huh, that tracks.”
If the logic jumps too much... Eun-young might wanna crack open my skull to check.
And that wasn't hyperbole—it'd actually happened in the game. No wonder cold sweat trickled down his back.
Kang Jin-ho took a deep breath, steeling himself. From here on, I'm a genius. Scary-sharp insight, killer instincts—nailing the perp in one shot. The rookie who'll shock Raphael and terrify Eun-young!
“So, you can explain? Why this cake's the culprit?”
“Yes.”
At Eun-young's prod, Kang Jin-ho haughtily lifted his gaze and began.
“First, the counter table. Everyone remember it?”
One of the senior officers checked the scene photos they'd snapped earlier.
“Hmm... Broken cord aside, nothing stands out?”
“That's what struck me as odd.”
“Why?”
“If the owner wanted to hide the counter, she'd unplug it— not rip it out like this. And if she did it herself, what tool? But look at this cross-section.”
Kang Jin-ho pointed to the ragged cord end.
“It's torn like someone yanked it by hand. Impossible for a regular person, so I ruled out the owner.”
“...Yeah, that checks out.”
The other officers nodded unwittingly. No flaws in his reasoning.
“And seniors? CCTV shows no one but the owner from closing to morning, right?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“So two possibilities: Someone who dodges CCTV freely... or...”
“Or?”
Park Eun-young grinned, eyes twinkling with amusement.
“The culprit and counter never left the cafe to begin with.”
“Wait, hold up. You saying... the perp holed up inside? With the counter?”
Raphael couldn't wrap his head around the rookie's words.
“Ugh, headache. Can you sum it up clearer?”
“Yes. Oh—Officer Park Eun-young?”
“Yeah, Jin-ho?”
She replied warmly.
“I know some superpowers include shapeshifting. Right?”
“Yep, those exist.”
“When they shift, what about their clothes?”
“Sometimes they leave 'em and shift just the body... others shift with clothes.”
“If it's not clothes but a huge counter... could they shift with that? And wouldn't yanking the cord look just like this?”
“Yeah, makes sense to me.”
“!!!”
“!!!”
The watching officers' eyes went wide as Kang Jin-ho flashed his most genius-y smirk.
“My theory: The perp visited during peak hours, waited for a chance. When the owner slipped, shifted in a blind spot and hid.”
“Seniors checked CCTV from closing to morning, right? Check daytime too—you'll find someone who entered but never left.”
“One sec, checking... So... Ah! There! Masked guy!”
The senior rewound as Kang Jin-ho suggested and gasped. They'd only scrutinized nighttime for intruders, skipping busy hours.
“Yes. Exploiting blind spots. Perp knew the inside CCTV was busted, so targeted the counter post-closing.”
Contact made, shift into counter. Holed up through police visit. Plan: Shift back outside later.
Counter intact at 7 a.m.? Perp had all night anyway—why rush.
“Shift back, counter returns. Smash it for cash. Small-time—no heroes, no deep police dive.”
“...Rookie. One thing still bugs me.”
Raphael raised a hand tentatively.
“Your scenario works for stealing it... but escape? Shapeshifters can't move as objects. And shifting back inside means CCTV catches 'em exiting.”
Fair point. Exterior cams were fine—sudden guy hauling counter? Busted.
“That's why I think they shifted into this cake.”
Kang Jin-ho grinned, shaking the dented cake box.
“Not pristine—owner wouldn't serve it. Once police leave and she's stuck reopening, she'd toss defective cake.”
“!!!”
Cake form? No suspicion. Cafes have cakes. Owner bags it for trash—no CCTV there—shift and bolt.
“Dented cake in display screamed suspicious from the start. Watched close: it was breathing. Subtle rises.”
“...Makes sense. Totally tracks.”
“Impressive.”
Raphael nodded repeatedly in awe. Park Eun-young eyed him like a cat spotting fish, eyes gleaming.
Not airtight logic—big leaps between steps. But the rookie's words carried weird conviction, like he'd seen the answers.
Superpower crimes? Logic secondary to intuition anyway.
“You thought that from step one? I saw zilch...”
“Noticed the cord too, but... damn, plausible.”
The two seniors gawked, dumbfounded. They'd arrived first, yet rookie pieced a scenario from scraps in seconds.
Clap!
“Still just theory, though. Time to test?”
Park Eun-young clapped, beaming.
“Perfect if the cake shifts and confesses now... but quiet as any cake.”
“...”
She circled the table, humming.
“What to do~ How to make it talk~ Busted good...?”
“...”
“Or... hmm, poke it with this fork? Ahaha.”
She dangled the plastic fork playfully over the cake—but Kang Jin-ho caught the feral glint in her eyes.
“Hii, hiaaaak!!!”
No sooner said, the cake writhed and deformed. A man tumbled out, clutching the cafe's counter tight.
“Please, just spare my life...!!!”
“I'm a cop? Kill you? Please.”
“Mercy! Mercy...!!!”
“...”
Kang Jin-ho forced his gaze away.
“Shut it or you die?”
Park Eun-young's sweet smile was, frankly, terrifying.