“Youngjae!” Daehyun shouted as he leapt from his seat.

In less than a moment, Junhong was snapping latex gloves from his hands and slamming his palm against a red button on the wall, causing the constant whirring of the extractor fans to intensify. He rushed to the doctor's side and pressed his fingers to the side of his neck.

“Call an ambulance!” He said first, then glanced up to the window, “I need someone to come in here and help me carry him to the lift, but make absolute sure you put on a mask first, and don't touch anything.”

Himchan hadn't waited for Junhong to finish his sentence by the time he was rushing from the office and through the lab to the scrub in room, though Jongup saw Yongguk release a sigh of relief that the detective was wearing a mask when he made it finally into the theatre. Together he and the doctor lifted Youngjae from the floor, their strong arms supporting his weight carefully as they lead him back across the cutting room towards the showers and the elevator beyond.

With his phone pressed to his ear, Daehyun rushed through Junhong's lab with Jongup and Yongguk not far behind him and they made it back to the rickety elevator just in time to see a grey faced Youngjae blinking his eyes slowly open. Junhong and Himchan each had an arm around his middle, and the psych's head lulled as he slowly came to.

“You idiot, did you skip breakfast again?” Himchan grunted, pretending to be annoyed, though his relief was palpable, “I've told you before that it doesn't matter if you're hungry or not, you need to eat before work.”

Youngjae laughed weakly, “And I told you I hate eating before pm's.” He said, then promptly bent over forwards and vomited on the floor.

Daehyun made a face, “I think he ate.” He said.

Daehyun and Himchan followed Youngjae up and above ground to meet the ambulance that drove in sirens blearing, but Junhong was determined to keep working. He didn't let anyone assist this time, but Yongguk sat silent and observant on the worn red couch and watched Junhong search through her body for answers to the questions piling up. It took another hour for Youngjae to be cleared by the paramedics, then an extra four on top of that for Junhong to complete the post mortem, but eventually they were all dropping into seats around a vast conference table in the Unit's meeting room, facing aprojector screen. Daehyun sat next to Jongup with a soft smile, then Himchan and Youngjae sat opposite them while Yongguk waited by the open door.

Junhong had taken off his scrubs and hair net and pulled back on his lab coat, but his face mask had simply been pulled down to under his chin while he linked up his laptop to the projector, and Yongguk turned off the lights. A series of X-Rays lit up the screen and Junhong tapped at his keyboard, sending a wave of images flicking through. First was a series of the body at the site she'd been found, then close up images of her eyes, with the dreadful stitches still pulled through, her hair, until finally it settled on one of her right hand. Her fingers were curved delicately downwards, like a ballet dancer in the middle of a plié, not a corpse laying limp in a morgue.

“Jae-hyung, how are you feeling?” Junhong finally asked and used the tip of his index finger to pull his face mask off so he could discard it beside the computer.

Youngjae lifted his head from where he sat and smiled weakly. He was still pale, but the half empty bottle of water he nursed between his palms was a good sign, “I'm fine, I'm fine.” he said, then looked up at the screen again, “Did she give you anything?”

Slowly, Junhong nodded, “She gave me a lot, actually. There were no defensive wounds, no signs of a struggle. Her heart and lungs were clear, but I found something in her stomach.” He clipped at his keyboard again, and Himchan leant back in his seat while watching their doctor expectantly. The image flicked to the inside of a large plastic container holding-

“Oh my god Junnie is that her stomach contents?” Daehyun made a face and lifted his hand to obscure the screen from his vision. Junhong just rolled his eyes.

“I tested a sample of it, and another from her stomach lining and oesophagus.” He tapped the keyboard again, and the image went back to her hand, “And I found Hydrogen Cyanide.”

“Cyanide?” Youngjae asked, frowning and twisting his clear plastic bottle in his hands, “Is that what I was smelling?”

Junhong nodded, “It's colourless and tasteless, but the ability to smell it is hereditary, and from the looks of it that's a gene you have. The mask I was wearing must have stopped me from breathing in that much of it, but your nose and mouth weren't covered.”

“What does it smell like?” Daehyun glanced over towards Youngjae, who made a face.

“It was nutty, like almonds or walnuts. I also got a pretty strong whiff of stomach acid, though, so I don't know if that's thrown me.” He sounded unsure, but Junhong nodded his head again.

“Bitter almonds is how it's usually described.” He said.

“Hydrogen Cyanide is a gas, it was originally a pesticide until it started being used by the Nazis and Americans... You're saying she was gassed?” Himchan turned the conversation back on route. As much as he enjoyed the discussion of fragrant stomachs, he'd gladly return to the topic at hand.

“Not necessarily. I couldn't find any trauma in her lungs, nor any trace of it in her nose or sinuses, but sodium cyanide salts, when ingested, are converted into hydrogen cyanide by stomach acid. In its solid form, it wouldn't change the smell of whatever she was eating, and the concentration needed to kill her wouldn't taste like much either if it was mixed in. It's the fastest moving poison we know. If she'd eaten it... It wouldn't have taken more than fifteen minutes for her to die.” Junhong flicked back to the photo of her last meal, “And from looking at the progression of digestion, she ate pretty soon before she died.”

“So she was poisoned.” Jongup said.

Junhong nodded grimly and pressed his knuckles into his palm, “She was poisoned.” He confirmed.

“Not to take us back to the stomach acid thing, but wouldn't she have vomited?” Daehyun said, then gestured towards the grey faced Youngjae in a manner that read something along the lines of here's one I prepared earlier.

The light in the room fluttered while Junhong flipped through the cycle of images again. Eerie shadows were cast across Junhong's face, while his teeth pressed into the inside of his cheek, and Himchan noted how much younger he looked in the dark. It was easy to forget how young he was sometimes, when the seven of them were engrossed in their work.

“She was cleaned.” The image set on a close up photo taken of her side, just beneath her left . Small red marks were pressed into the skin, faint and only a handful of them barely visible between patterns of livor mortis, but Junhong easily circled them with his finger like they were obvious, “It's an impression mark left by some kind of scrubbing brush, or steel wool. Everything was gone from under her nails, between her teeth, chin, neck, everywhere. I found trace evidence of bile in , though. She was sick somewhere.”

“What about an ID?” Himchan urged, “Was there anything that could help with that?”

“I've in put both her DNA profile and dental imaging into medical and police data bases, but right now all we can do is wait for them to come up with a match.” Junhong sighed, he wasn't used to not having answers. Usually things were easier than this.

“What can we do?” Daehyun asked, turning already towards Yongguk who hadn't moved from his place just inside the door.

“There's something else.” Junhong said, before anyone could race away and he reached down into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled out a small jar. The lid was screwed on tight, but through the clear sides they could all see the wilted shape of a purple flower. Its petals were curling in to protect its centre, while the green stem plucked clean of leaves curved downward into a raw, torn edge.

“A flower?” Junhong held the jar out to Daehyun, who took it and peered through the glass at the delicate form, “From her hair?”

“From .” Corrected Junhong, “I found it when I cut open the stitches on .”

“Why does everything have to be so in' weird, why can't we just deal with any straight up murders? Hit and runs, break ins, jealous business partners who are in love with each other's wives-” Daehyun listed. Youngjae must have kicked him under the table, because the detective jolted and cut himself off with a groan, then set the jar down on the table.

“Because then we'd just be cops.” Yongguk said, glancing between Daehyun, Himchan and Jongup, “You three, look through missing persons, local police reports, community online bulletin boards, anything that could be helpful in finding us an ID, and try and tell me more about that flower while you're at it. Someone somewhere must be missing her, and that wasn't put there for no reason.”

“Yes, sir.” Himchan said evenly with an emphatic salute, and rose from his seat with the contained flower in hand.

Yongguk nodded, “Youngjae, evidence will still be coming in from the crime scene until this evening while Uniform continue to scour the forest. You feel up to helping Jun keep things organised?”

“You know it.” The man said with a half-convincing smile, “Though I wouldn't mind having some time to set up a profile with what we have so far.”

Yongguk nodded his head, “Take all the time you need. Jun-”

“I'll keep working on the samples I have. I want to know more about the thread used for her lips, too.” The doctor said, and Yongguk just nodded again. He knew better than to argue with their doctor.

Chairs scraped against the linoleum floor as the six men filed back out into the wide expanse of the Unit's main room, and while Daehyun, Jongup and Himchan all dropped back into their seats, Junhong made a bee line towards the elevator with Youngjae following along behind leaving Yongguk to retreat to his office alone. The televisions lining the wall offered a low hum of sound as fingertips travelled over keyboards, and printers chugged paper through their feeding teeth. The police databases were coming up with nothing, and Jongup could see Daehyun was getting more and more agitated as message boards and media outlets were following suit. Junhong had sent them through an array of photos of her, both from the crime scene that morning and from the sterile metal slab where she still lay in the laboratory below their feet, and the longer they stared the harder it was to look away. Before too long, Yongguk emerged from behind closed doors and made for the lift, while Youngjae joined them again and took a seat at the last empty desk. He spread case files around himself, and alternated between flicking through their yellowing pages and tapping rhythmically on his laptop with his eyebrows furrowed deeply and his lips turned into a serious frown.

The end of Jongup's pen was pressed between his full lips as he skimmed across encyclopaedias of floral life, when Daehyun emitted a grunt of frustration.

“What I don't understand...” He started and Jongup looked up. He'd risen from his seat a while before and, with his laptop still held in his hand, had been pacing back and forth under the twisting vine canopy a few metres from the bank of desks, “Why would he steal her, only to dump her again? It's a waste of time, and an unnecessary risk.”

“Maybe they thought she'd be less likely to be found out there?” Youngjae suggested.

“He?” Jongup prompted Daehyun's assumption.

Daehyun set his computer back on his desk, but instead of sitting down he pressed his palms flat to the surface and twisted his back to stretch out his tired muscles, “Well it was a man you and Hyung chased through the woods, wasn't it? Statistically, a murdered woman is much more likely to have been killed by a man. Jealous or violent ex or current partner, some kind of honour killing by a family member, someone she rejected in a bar.” He listed, but Youngjae shook his head.

“They wouldn't poison her. Crimes like that are violent and hot blooded, not calculated, and if we are talking statistics, poison is a much more frequent MO for women.”

“Whoever it was wanted us to find the body.” Himchan said, and all eyes turned to him. He had a pair of glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and Jongup could see the reflection of his computer screen dancing in the lenses and obscuring his eyes, “If they didn't want us to, they wouldn't have posed her.”

“If they wanted us to find the body, why would they steal her?” Daehyun asked and Himchan leant back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest while his gaze shifted finally from the screen of his computer to focus instead on the framed photo of the beautiful woman that sat just to the right of it. For a moment, he thought, and his lips twisted while he on his teeth.

“To show us that they could.” Jongup pointed out, “It's like a carrot held in front of a horse's nose. They gave us the body, only to take her away again.”

“And you think whoever it was you chased through the woods was trying to steal her again?” Youngjae didn't quite look convinced, but Jongup shook his head.

“No, I don't. was sewn shut for a reason, and it was done in the twenty-four hours between her disappearance, and re-discovery. We have her because they wanted us to have her.” His fingers slipped around the glass jar holding the wilted purple flower and he held it up for everyone to see, “They wanted us to have this.”

A low buzzing came from where Himchan's phone was turned face down on the desk, and the detectives all turned to watch as he flipped it over and swiped his thumb over the screen.

“Kim.” He said, in lieu of a greeting and lifted his left hand to massage at his creased forehead with the tips of his fingers as he listened to the voice echoing down the line. The call only lasted for a minute, then he was rising to his feet and grabbing his coat from where it was slung over the back of his chair, “They've finished writing up all the witness statements from the scene. They should be sending them through to you now, Daehyun-ah.”

Daehyun frowned and watched Himchan tuck his phone, wallet and keys into the pockets of his coat once he had it on, “Where are you going?”

“Some new physical evidence has come in from uniform. I'm going to take a look, and get a breath of fresh air.” He said.

“I'll join you.” Youngjae said and grabbed his own coat and phone.

Himchan nodded and made for the stairs with Youngjae hot on his heels, and when the rickety elevator doors quivered open, they stepped inside together. Himchan had to press the button for street level three times before the elevator moved, then folded his arms and leant back against the dented metal walls.

“Jongup is good.” Youngjae started as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, his keen eyes watching as numbers illuminated up the screen above the doors. 6, 5, 4, and onwards ticking down as the elevator rose from below ground. To anyone standing outside the cabin, it would appear that the carriage was lowering from the sixth floor, rather than rising from under the street, a safety measure added in so the uniformed police officers stationed in that building would never truly know where the detectives worked. They'd been told, when the Unit moved into the building, that the Seoul police headquarters no longer had room for the entirety of their criminal investigation unit, and that they needed the real estate of the vacant top floor to move in one of their squads. Youngjae had rolled his eyes the first time he learned of the decoy office, but then again he knew he'd find it uniquely satisfying if anyone ever succeeded to break into the fortified level and found it empty after all. Like catching smoke, Yongguk had called it.

Himchan didn't respond to Youngjae's comment, and the psychologist turned his head to watch the man staring at his own clouded reflection in the gunmetal grey of the doors.

“Don't you think so?” He prompted, Himchan made a noncommittal sound. “I like the way he thinks, he's smart. Attractive, too.”

“You should ask him out.” The detective stated in a deadpan.

“Very funny.” Youngjae shook his head and rolled his eyes. The doors rolled open and Himchan moved past the front desk and towards the building's main entrance. It had rained again, and the sun had already long since retired for the night, leaving the slender laneway out the front of the building illuminated only by colourful neon signs hanging from the façades of the surrounding buildings. Himchan tightened his coat at his front and puffed out a cloud of breath as he and Youngjae descended down the steps.

“I haven't put much thought into whether he'd be into that, though.” Himchan commented and Youngjae quirked an eyebrow.

“Into guys?” He asked.

“Into shrinks.” Himchan replied, with the corner of his lips twitching upwards into an amused half-smile.

Youngjae rolled his eyes for the second time, “I wasn't mentioning it for my benefit. I'm just curious, Hyung. He's smart, definitely attractive, driven.” Youngjae waved his hand as he spoke, and Himchan had to reach out and grab his wrist to make him stop.

“And?” He questioned.

“You've been single a while...”

“Are you this transparent in your psycho analysis of your patients, or is it just your friends?” Cold water splashed out from beneath Himchan's boots. They were still caked with mud from when they'd been out in the field that morning, though he'd managed to change his clothes since. God, that felt like an age ago. He ran his palm down his face and barely smothered the urge to yawn.

“I know it's weird to not work with Dae, but Jongup's good at what he does.” Youngjae's tone was more serious this time, his brows furrowed.

“You know that for a fact, do you?” Himchan sighed and stopped to turn and look at Youngjae head on.

“I know for a fact that he wouldn't be here if he wasn't.” The doctor pointed out, “Yongguk trusts him.”

“Yongguk doesn't trust anyone.” Himchan dismissed, but Youngjae shook his head.

“He trusts you.”

For a long moment, Himchan just looked at Youngjae. He'd been young when they first met, not that much older than Junhong was now, but he'd been quick to weasel his way right into Himchan's soft spot, just like all the dongsaeng's had. His expression softened and he reached out to gently rub his fingers through the younger's hair affectionately.

“Are you feeling better?” He changed the subject. Some colour was returning to Youngjae's cheeks, and the tip of his nose flushed a soft pink in the cold.

“Yeah, I'm fine. No need to worry about me.” Youngjae rolled his eyes, but Himchan knew he liked the fact that he cared.

“Come on, lets go get some food to bring back for the others. Hyung's treat.”

*

After Himchan and Youngjae left, the wide open room went quiet again. Jongup's dark eyes glued to the screen of his laptop as he flicked between botanical encyclopaedias and local newspapers. It just couldn't be possible that no one had reported their victim missing. A yawn pulled at his chest, and he lifted a hand to smother it, while his eyes skimmed across lines of printed and scanned text. A local farmer in a small town in Gyeonggi-do had managed to harvest unseasonably large root vegetables, and a photo of her smiling toothily was printed below the article, while a school teacher in Jeolla had lead his year five students to a swimming competition victory at a local gala, and boasted how they would be ready to have safe fun in the local rivers and lakes once summer eventually arrived. It seemed like the peninsula had been slow on news in the preceding weeks, a missing woman would certainly have made headlines.

“On this historic day, we watch as President Moon Jaein meets with North Korean leader, Kim Jongeun in a summit for peace that re-shapes the future across the Korean peninsula.” The volume rose on one of the television sets, and Jongup drew his eyes away from his laptop screen. He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision, and watched as two men whose faces he knew too well greeted one another like old friends and held hands as they stepped from one Korea to the next.

“I forgot this was happening today.” Daehyun said from where he leant back against Himchan's desk, remote in hand and Jongup rubbed his forehead.

“Same. I didn't even think about it.” He replied and pushed himself up to round the desk and lean back against it beside Daehyun.

“Apparently there's been celebrations on the streets across the country. I bet my mum is crying somewhere.” He laughed and showed his straight, white teeth and his eyes crinkled. It was hard not to smile, too, at the sight of it.

“Where is she?” Jongup asked, but turned back to watch the footage playing across the screen.

“Busan, with my dad and brother. My grandma always used to talk about the war when we were kids. Man, if she was alive to see this she'd be beside herself.” Daehyun laughed, “What about you? You from Seoul?”

Jongup shook his head, “Just outside. Near where the body was found, actually.”

“Damn. Not the best reason to return home, huh.” Daehyun commented with a sigh and Jongup shrugged.

“There's not always such thing as a good reason.” He replied.

“I love my family, but sometimes I'm glad they're a long way away. It's easier to keep secrets from them if I don't see them, I guess.” Daehyun half smiled sadly and pushed himself off the desk, “Anyway, I'm gonna make myself a coffee. Want one?”

Jongup saw the sad look in Daehyun's eyes, and he got it. The hardest part about the life they lived was the lying, and he tried never to think about that long enough to come to the conclusion that it's why he didn't go home anymore. “I'm fine. Thank you, though.”

Daehyun pushed himself off the desk and headed towards the room beside the meeting space they'd all been in that morning. He flicked on the light and stretched his arms over his head, then headed to the back of the room, where the small kitchenette was set up for long nights they kept working until late, just like that one. For a moment, Jongup looked at the tv screen again, watched images of men and women embracing, some crying as they heard the news that the war might finally be over. It had been a long time coming, but he didn't think it could ever come soon enough.

He turned around and spied the frame positioned neatly on Himchan's desk of the beautiful woman smiling, and instead of returning to his seat, Jongup reached out a hand and picked it up. He'd seen Himchan staring at it on and off since the meeting had broken up earlier in the day, as though the sight of her smile and the snow dusting her hair would be enough to give him some kind of answers. It was a beautiful image, Jongup thought, but the closer he looked, the more he noticed the way the colours looked so fluid across the glossy finish, sharp at the centre but fading along the right edge, while on the left the hem of black clothing was just inching below the frame.

With a glance upwards, Jongup noticed that Daehyun still had his back to him, and so in one quick movement, he flipped over the frame and carefully pulled the backing from its place to reveal another half of the image, folded and concealed. It didn't take him even a second to realise that the photo was of Himchan, but not a Himchan he knew. This one was young, with eyes crinkled as he grinned to reveal big teeth he hadn't quite grown into yet, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. Snow was dusting across his hair, too, while in the bottom right hand corner in vibrant orange letters the date was printed as 16.01.'02.

The coffee machine's buzz cut off, and Jongup hurried to fold the photo back and tuck it into the snug fit of its frame, then seal it in with the backing panel, but just as he was setting it back down onto the desk, Daehyun's voice called to him, “She's his sister.”

“What?” Jongup asked, and lifted his head. The Busan man was crossing the room towards him, with a steaming cup held tight in his hand and he quirked his brows and gestured towards the photo with his eyes.

“In the photo, she's his sister.” He said.

“She's beautiful.” Jongup commented, then straightened the frame on Himchan's desk to return it back to its approximate original location.

“She looked a lot like him, don't you think?” Daehyun took a sip of his drink and folded his arm over his chest.

Jongup glanced back down at the frame, and he could see it now. The way her lips curved upwards matched Himchan's almost perfectly, while she had a fullness to her cheeks and point to her nose that he didn't. Their eyes were the same, though, sharp and intelligent, and beautiful too, “Yeah... I guess she did.”

“They were really close, but she died when he was just about to finish up his service.” Jongup watched as Daehyun set his drink down on his desk, then dropped back into his seat.

“How?” He asked, but Daehyun shrugged.

“I don't know. He doesn't talk about it, and no one's ever wanted to ask. Yongguk probably knows, but he knows everything there is to know about everyone. He's pretty like that.” Then he smiled again, all teeth and lips and cheeks.

The elevator doors slid open with a ding, “Dinner!” Himchan called out as he and Youngjae carried a collection of plastic container filled bags between them.

Daehyun turned his head to watch the others descend down the stairs, while Jongup slipped from his side to drop back into his seat in front of the open lid of his laptop.

“God damn I'm starving, I haven't eaten since breakfast. What'd you get?” Daehyun groaned as Himchan set one of the bags on his desk and started rifling through it to get the containers spread out over the surface.

“Chicken, rice, there's some beef somewhere too, and Youngjae insisted on vegetables.” He replied as he cracked open lids, “Jae-yah, can you please get the plates and stuff from the kitchen?” Youngjae dumped his bags beside Himchan's and headed for the room Daehyun had vacated only a moment before.

“ yes, Hyung, you really are the love of my life.” Daehyun was peeking over his Hyung's shoulder and watching him reveal more and more of the food he'd chosen.

Himchan ignored him, though, when he was distracted by the framed photo sitting upright just to the right hand side of his open laptop screen, and reached over to straighten its angle until it sat just right. Jongup made a point of keeping his eyes fixed on his laptop screen, but he saw the way Himchan glanced up at him out of the corner of his eye.

“I got us six plates, has anyone called Yongguk-hyung and Junnie yet?” Youngjae said as he came back into the room and set the stack of crockery down onto his desk just in time for Daehyun to swoop in and start serving himself some food.

“Not yet.” Himchan grabbed a small piece of meat between his index and middle fingers and ate it while watching Daehyun, though he turned to Jongup once he'd swallowed and fixed him with an even gaze, “Jongup-ah, come and eat something.”

Youngjae had joined Daehyun by the containers, though he was more tentative as he selected food to add onto his plate, no doubt worried that his sensitive stomach would revisit him from earlier. The smell of the food was making Jongup's mouth water, but when he stood up it wasn't to join the others, “Thanks, I will in a minute. I'm going to quickly run down to the lab and let Junhong know there's food, but I wanted to return this, in case he needed it.” He took the jarred flower in hand and held it up for Himchan to see.

“Alright, but don't take too long.” Himchan said, gesturing to the other two already devouring their plates of food. Jongup's lips twitched into a half smile and he nodded, and headed for the elevator to carry him down to the silent labs beneath.

Automatic doors slid open with a soft ding, but the lab was empty. Through the window, Jongup could see that the cutting room had been thoroughly cleaned since the last time he was down there, and the body returned to the refrigerated capsules built into the wall. Along the benches on either side of the long lab, small evidence bags were lined up and organised, soil and fabric samples, collections of leaves and sticks Jongup presumed had been pulled from her hair. Stationed against the wall about a third of the way along, a mass spectrometer whirred as it separated ions and read molecules to print out for Junhong to study later. Up ahead, Jongup could hear music coming from the open office door, something soft with piano and violins and he made towards it expecting to see Junhong stationed behind his desk, but the seat was empty, and across the monitor screen flickered countless faces of young women as his computer shot through the country's medical database at lightning speed. Jongup turned his head and saw instead the young doctor was laying on his side across the worn red couch, his eyes closed in sleep, and his hands tucked under his cheek to cushion it as he slept. Standing over him was Yongguk with his slender fingers curled into the soft fabric of a threadbare blanket that he was laying over the Doctor's body.

His eyes were soft, and unreadable as he looked at Junhong's face, though glanced up once Jongup entered the room, and the detective paused and averted his gaze like he'd interrupted something too intimate for him to see.

“I'm sorry, sir, I didn't realise you were in here.” He said and focused his eyes on the opposite wall instead of where Yongguk's fingers were slipping tenderly through Junhong's dark hair.

“It's alright. He worked hard today and he fell asleep at his desk, I was just helping him settle down.” Yongguk rose, and he gave Jongup a tired smile that helped the younger's shoulders relax.

“What time is it?” Jongup asked, as he realised he didn't even know.

“Almost ten. You were up early this morning, too, you must be tired.” The director rounded the couch and stopped not far in front of him.

As if on cue, Jongup yawned and smacked a hand over his mouth to stifle it, though not without managing a soft laugh, “I guess I am. Detective Kim and Doctor Yoo brought some food back, I came down to let Doctor Choi know.”

“You can use their names, you know.” Yongguk rubbed his hand across the back of his neck to massage aching muscle, “They wouldn't mind.”

Jongup considered this for a moment, but before he could reply a low beeping sounded from the desk and both men turned to look at it. On the screen of Junhong's computer was the familiar face of a woman, with red letters blinking beneath it. DNA Match found.

“Gotcha.” Yongguk said.