“Even if I don’t kill my target, I’m still smart. I’m still the real Brain King.” -Kim Sunggyu

The department was cloaked in darkness. In fact, the entire building was unlit, with only the occasional bright exit sign or city light shining through the windows. Kim Sunggyu had not left his office since opening the plastic tube. He had been sitting in the same position and thinking the same thoughts, for far too long, and night had fallen.

Dongwoo. Jang Dongwoo was a suspect?

Overall, this fact unsettled Sunggyu more than the suspects’ fates. The elimination of someone who was doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing was routine in Sunggyu’s line of work. But if Dongwoo, out of all people, was a suspect, an issue had been raised. Perhaps Sunggyu ought to have been shocked at this new revelation about a member of his team. But instead, he was unsettled. No matter which angle he approached the issue from, it made no sense to him. No matter how he looked at it, the same question arose-- if Dongwoo was considered a suspect, how accurate was the list of suspects?

Once Sunggyu had begun to question the list’s accuracy, he came to the realization that had led him to remain in his office until sundown. If someone as unlikely as Dongwoo were on the list, who else might be on the list? Myungsoo, perhaps? Woohyun? Or himself?

Sunggyu could not fathom what about him might point to him as a suspect, but as ludicrous as it was, he knew that it was possible for him to be on the list as well. And that meant that someone might be trying to kill him. So, for lack of a better plan, he had stayed where he was, retracing his thoughts when he should have been retracing his footsteps.

Now he needed to move. Deeply uneasy about the security measures taking place yet aware of his current situation, Sunggyu stuffed the papers into his pocket and left his tube and office behind him.

Sunggyu paused for a moment in the corridor to listen for footsteps. But he heard none. Thus far, the building was eerily silent. He took this to mean that no one had died yet. Or that whoever had died so far had been killed by a well-trained expert.

They were all well-trained experts.

Sunggyu shivered.

Backing up against the wall, he took a moment to think over his approach. The weapons rooms were on lockdown, but there were multiple hiding places within the building for times when weapons were needed during a lockdown. It had been a long time since such a situation last arose, and he had never actually succeeded in finding any of the hiding places. But if he remembered correctly, the majority of the emergency weapons were concealed on the third floor.

Sunggyu had three options when it came to reaching the third floor. First, he could take the elevator, which was relatively silent but would tell anyone outside the elevator doors exactly what floor he was on, not to mention that they could bring the elevator to them by merely pressing a button. Second, he could take the stairs, which were much noisier and provided both the opportunity to escape possible pursuers as well as the opportunity to be cornered. Sunggyu’s third option involved breaking a window, setting the alarm off, and climbing to the third floor from the outside. It was the least appealing option.

A glance down the hall told Sunggyu that the elevator was not far. The route to the stairs was long and complicated. With quick steps, Sunggyu arrived at the elevator and pressed the button, continually looking over his shoulder while keeping an eye on the doors.

Fortunately, the elevator was empty when the doors slid open. Without further hesitation, Sunggyu stepped inside and pressed the button that would take him to the third floor.

It was, perhaps, the longest elevator ride of his life. The riskiest part of taking the elevator, he soon realized, was that when the doors opened, he had no control over what he might step into.

Sunggyu held his breath. He didn’t know where Dongwoo might have gone. After all, Dongwoo was rather unpredictable, and Sunggyu found himself in a situation in which it was nearly impossible to think like his target. Aside from that, a distinct feeling of unease remained with Sunggyu. He had not yet decided what he would do once he found Dongwoo. Merely the facts that Dongwoo was on the suspect list and that the list was so long were enough to convince Sunggyu that something was not to be trusted. For the first time in months, Sunggyu had bigger problems to worry about than The Chameleon.

When the metal doors finally gave way with a low, clanking rumble, Sunggyu pressed the button to hold them open and flattened himself against the control panel, carefully peering out. His heart began to thump in his chest when he saw someone a short distance away, doing something near a wall. It was likely that they had found a weapon.

Sunggyu reminded himself that he had not necessarily walked into a lion’s den; it was just that they were armed and he was not. With one last look at the raven-haired stranger, Sunggyu was struck by a sudden idea.

During lockdown, the elevators were still in working order. This meant that it was possible to be cornered or endangered in the elevator shaft during a lockdown. And Sunggyu knew that if this were the case, there would certainly be a hidden weapon inside the elevator.

He didn’t want to risk attracting the other man’s attention by letting the doors close, and he was grateful that the interior lights of the elevator shaft were disabled in lockdown mode, save the glowing buttons. The last thing he needed now was a spotlight announcing his presence.

After scanning the array of buttons, Sunggyu reasoned that any hidden compartments would not be near the control panel. If the elevator were being serviced, he highly doubted that management would want a blue-collar worker to find a secret weapons stash.

Sunggyu began his search in the back corner of the elevator, and something soon caught his eye. One of the floor tiles had a distinctive chip in it. Feeling certain that he had found a point of interest, he took care to lift the tile without any noise. He was met with a shiny panel and a screen, which promptly lit up. Sunggyu cursed silently. He didn’t want the other person to notice any light coming from the elevator shaft. The screen showed no template for a recognition scan, nor did it demand a passcode. In a halfhearted guess, Sunggyu his palm against the screen and held it there. The screen went black, and to Sunggyu’s relief, the panel slid open.

Sunggyu stared down into a case of guns.

At the same moment, he heard a noise from outside and knew that the stranger must be on the move. Grabbing a handgun, Sunggyu slid the panel closed, replaced the floor tile, and treaded lightly, peeking around the door again.

Sunggyu felt his stomach drop. There, outside the elevator, was the very last person he wished to see, aside from Dongwoo.

As it turned out, the raven-haired stranger was none other than Nam Woohyun.