The door was nicely shut in the front.  No look of struggle or forced entry from the front, which was good since it would buy me more time before any of this was discovered.  There didn’t seem to be any signs of forced entry anywhere on the property.  Whoever got inside and killed him seemed to know what they were doing obviously.

  I left my bike a black back so it wouldn’t seem too strange.  I’m not putting much to chance that anything could go wrong right now.  Going through the front just wasn’t going to work, not with the chance of anyone watching.  Finding nothing amiss in the front I made my way back down the street to go up from the back alley to gain access to the house.

  Jumping the fence surrounding the property from the back I looked around the small yard.  His car was still there unharmed, and no signs of struggle at all which still seemed rather strange.  Just how did these murders get into the house to kill him, because I know he isn’t dumb enough to just let anyone walk into his house.  And he never lets anyone in without reason.

  Breaking the back door lock I shoved the door open and made my way into his kitchen.  Drawers were open and their contents spilling out all over the place, every place I looked was left in a mess.  The whole house has been torn apart as it seems.

  I walked out of the kitchen and into the main hallway.  There by the front door, slumped against the wall was the body of Son Junsuk.  I walked over to him body and crouched down to get a good look at what happened to him.

  A single cut across his throat, cutting both major veins on either side of his neck.  It wouldn’t have taken him long to bleed out.  It was a fresh kill, no more than a few hours at least.  The blood around him was still wet and he was still slowly bleeding out, no chance at survival now since he was long past dead, but blood still dripped from the open wound.

  I pulled on a pair of black gloves before I touched anything; I already wiped down the back door before coming in.  Lifting his head I inspected the full damage done, but it wasn’t much different than what I already knew by just looking at him.  Checking his pockets for anything of use, I found nothing but a black ballpoint pen and a scrunched piece of paper.

  Unfolding the paper I tried to read the chicken scratch on it.  But with no luck, which I wasn’t all to surprised about.  I was never good at reading writing that wasn’t neat.  I made sure all the guys could write nicely and very readable; although they knew quite well if they didn’t want me to read something to write it messy.

  I would get them to figure out what it said later.  For now I have to see if I can find anything to give me a hint to who did this.  Starting in the living room I looked though everything, moved each thing on the ground, moved each book on the shelves and flipped through them individually.  But there was nothing.  Anything of any value was missing; the rest of it was thrown about.  I went through everything on the first floor but to no luck at all.  Nothing was here but a mess of personal thins that had no value.

  A soft thud came from the floor above me.  I know for a fact that I was the only one here right now, so unless someone has been hiding this whole time there is a new visitor here.  I even my breathing so it was impossible to pick up even from beside me, I wasn’t going to have them hear me.  With only a whisper of air I had my gun in my hands and finger on the trigger.

  Each of my steps was calculated and never made a sound, no squeak of the floorboards and no noise from a footfall.  I was a ghost that could move around as freely as I pleased.  I could hear the very faint falling of steps from above, confirming my belief that I wasn’t the only one in this house right now.

  Gun pointed in front of me along with a knife firmly held in my hand I made my way up the stairs silently