Ambivalence

But to their horror, Emris hadn’t left the scene. He stood right behind them. Before they could react, he struck the inspector’s skull with a hammer. As Shang reached for his revolver, Emris swung his knife in a single lightning stroke, severing Shang’s arm. With the same blade, he decapitated the inspector.

Then he sprinted away into the darkness, laughing.

“Make that three stretchers!” His voice echoed eerily as he vanished.

His killing location was never fixed. No one knew when or where the next victim would appear. He was the devil of Seoul’s night—the monster who hunted beautiful girls with different-colored eyes. Those with pitch-black eyes were the only ones spared. His murders always took place in isolated, dark lanes. His identity was unknown to all of South Korea.

The entire country was trying to capture him.

Seventy-five girls were slaughtered in an American hostel.

On every mirror in that hostel, a single line was written:

“Aşkim, I will find you.”

No one knows who did this dreadful crime

His methods of killing were beyond brutal. Nobody knew his motive. . He never left a single trace behind.

People called him “The Blood Sucker.”

It was the name given by families whose daughters, sisters, and granddaughters were murdered.

Whether she was 7 years old or 52—it didn’t matter. Anyone could become his victim.

Nobody knew how he kidnapped them. Nobody knew where he murdered them.

But one thing was always the same:

He plucked their eyeballs out.

Every time.

Then there was Czar.

A killer who hunted those close to Emris.

He made sure the bodies of his victims were so mutilated that not a single piece could be recognized. He desperately wanted to find Emris. But whenever he reached a crime scene, Emris had already gone. For five years, he had been chasing him.

His IQ over 150 was unimaginable, yet he still couldn’t locate Emris.

He had killed Emris’s mother , grandparents so brutally that only their toenails were found. The rest of their bodies were shredded using various instruments—knife, hammer, nail cutter—everything.

Czar tossed their heads against walls twenty times.

Then stabbed their eyes seventy-five times.

On the third round, he electrocuted them ten times.

Then forced ten spoonfuls of pepper into their mouths, along with flesh-eating insects which devoured nearly everything.

His intelligence never allowed a cop to catch him.

He was a mastermind beyond comparison.

He wanted Emris, and only after finding him would he surrender.

Until then, he would continue to kill those who were close to Emris…

or those responsible for Lia’s death.

Czar ran as fast as he could toward the incident scene. By the time he arrived, people had gathered—police, detectives, everyone. They were inspecting for fingerprints or any trace of evidence that could lead them to the culprit. It was around 9 a.m.

Czar facepalmed himself.

“I slept too much last night.”

He cracked his knuckles and let his hands rest behind his head, visibly frustrated.

He looked around and sat on a bench near a small coffee shop. His head leaned back against the wall, and his thoughts spiraled.

“I could have caught him last night…” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. He sighed deeply.

Time passed.

The clock hit 12 p.m., and he was still sitting on that same bench, wondering if things would’ve been different had he not fallen asleep.

The area had now been fully restricted with yellow and white tape. Another day, another headline. Another murder.

“You idiot, Emris… I’ll find you and hunt you down,” he whispered angrily as he stood up.

Then his eyes caught a girl.

Her eyes—grey.
His heart skipped a beat.
The exact same shade as Lia’s.

His own eyes watered, but he quickly wiped them.

“Lia… I miss you,” he breathed.

The girl was selling flowers.

But Czar knew she was new. He had never seen her before, and his 150+ IQ with a photographic memory would never forget a single face that ever passed through these lanes. He could trace any route instantly, detect the shortest and longest paths, and nothing escaped his perception.

He walked toward her quietly.

She wore a floral-pattern skirt with black boots. There were faint scars on her bare arms. Her top was a simple floral tank. Her hair was neatly tied into a ponytail with a ribbon. Her pale complexion looked soft under the sunlight. Her almond-shaped eyes were captivating; her right eyebrow was pierced, and around her neck hung a necklace with the letter E.

Her hair was jet black. Her ears were pierced but she wore no earrings. Her lips held a perfect shade of red.

Czar quietly approached and cleared his throat just as the girl was adjusting flowers on the front table. It was a simple roadside stand—fresh flowers of every kind displayed neatly.

Elaya straightened her posture and looked at Czar.

She bowed slightly.

She picked up a paper, wrote something on it with a polite smile, and handed it to him: