A man in a dark suit stood at the railing of the low Jamsu Bridge. In normal conditions the bridge ran just a couple of metres above the water, but it was closed at the moment due to the higher level of the river that threatened to submerge it. That hadn’t stopped the man, and the river lapped at the toes of his shoes where he stood against the railing. The water jets that lined the Banpo Bridge running in double-decker fashion above his head were showering broad sprays of water illumined by colourful lights into the broad, glimmering blackness of the river Han. It was the last light show of the night, and it would soon be over. If the man was still alone when it ended, he would know the person he had come to meet was unable to attend tonight.

Across the road, Chen stood in the deep shadow of one of the thick concrete pillars that supported the upper tier of the bridge. Silent and unseen, he watched Park Jeongsu’s thin, suit-clad back. His handler was looking out at the river, hands in the pockets of his suit pants, shoulders slightly bowed. Despite the coldness of the night, he hadn’t moved for the last twenty minutes. Chen, too, was motionless. His eyes were fixed on the police chief silhouetted against the falling water, but his mind was anything but quiet. Eight years of work was crashing around him, and it centred on the man across the bridge. Jeongsu’s continued reluctance to catch Suho was sharp in his mind. He’d originally recruited Chen by promising him they’d catch Suho, who had provided drugs to his mother. His mission had grown into something far greater, but that was the baited hook, and his younger self had swallowed it. Was it all a lie? Had the one person in the world who knew everything about him, the one person he didn’t have to lie to, been lying to him all along?

The 20-minute light show ended. When it did, Chen was at Jeongsu’s shoulder, appearing out of the night like a ghost. Jeongsu didn’t flinch. He was used to Jongdae materialising in this way. For a moment, they stood together silently. The ripples in the dark water ahead of them caught the ambient gold of the streetlights.

"I didn't know, Jongdae." Jeongsu broke the silence. He turned to face Chen, though Chen still stared out across the water. “I had no idea the prosecution had anyone undercover. I was only a narcotics squad leader back then. I didn’t have access to that type of information.”

Chen felt his fists tighten at his sides. So it was true.

“He’s not a prosecutor anymore,” Jeongsu continued when Chen stayed silent. “He went rogue. That makes him just as bad as them. You know the things he’s done. He’s a drug dealer and a murderer. He would have killed you tonight, and Minseok too, if I hadn't sent Chanyeol in. You weren’t chasing an illusion, no matter where he started out.”

“You don’t understand,” Chen said. His voice sounded choked. “I’ve done things I’ll never be able to forget. I’ve hurt people. I've turned a blind eye to the most terrible things. I’ve helped men who I knew were murderers. I’ve distributed drugs so that I can keep my cover and rise in the ranks. They all think I’m Chen.” He turned anguished eyes to Jeongsu. “And aren't I, really? Aren’t I just as bad as Suho?”

“No.” Jeongsu stepped forward and gripped both his arms firmly. He stared into Chen’s face, and Chen stared back, searching desperately for truth in it. He desperately wanted to trust Jeongsu. If he couldn’t do that, then he was truly alone. “No. You’re not like him because you haven’t turned. Suho betrayed everything he stood for. He crossed the line. You’ve never done that. When we take this cartel down, everything will be worth it.”

“Will it?” Chen whispered. He thought of Xiumin, his best friend, trusting him with his life. He thought of Irene, doing her best to keep him safe no matter what he got himself involved in. He thought of Seungwan, and Luhan, and the others who worked for him. He had lied to every one of them. They trusted him, but the person they trusted was a lie. Chen would betray them all. And when it was finally over and the man they called Chen no longer existed, what would be left for Kim Jongdae? What would be left for him to live for?

“Remember why you are doing this,” Jeongsu said. “You told me you wanted to make the world a safer place for children to grow up in. You wanted to give them more of a chance than you had. And you’re doing that, Jongdae. You are doing that.”

Baekhyun’s words. Baekhyun’s reason. Once, Chen had been doing this for Baekhyun. Now Baekhyun was gone, but Jongdae could still fulfil his dream. He hadn’t been able to save Baekhyun, or even Seungwan. But there were thousands more children like them. What did it matter if Jongdae broke doing it? What was one person’s life against theirs?

“You’re a good man, Kim Jongdae,” Jeongsu told him firmly. “I haven’t forgotten it. Don’t you forget it either.”

Slowly, Chen nodded, and when Jeongsu released his arms he turned away and leant his forearms on the bridge railing. He lowered his head and rubbed a hand across his face. Jeongsu stood beside him quietly until Chen was ready to speak again.

“I was given this at the scene by an officer called Do Kyungsoo,” he said. He took the business card out of his pocket and passed it to Jeongsu. “He told me he's working for the prosecution.” He watched Jeongsu’s eyebrows draw together as he read the name on the card.

“Why did he give you this?”

“According to officer Do, Park Seungjin wants Gwangju taken down, and he’s willing to work with Chen to do it. He said Park would turn a blind eye to my dealings in Seoul if I got Gwangju out of the political arena and took his place within the drug cartel. Though I'm sure this offer will come with a few stipulations to make sure I don't become the threat Gwangju did.”

Jeongsu was silent for a few beats. “You know who this is, don’t you?”

Chen nodded. “Park Chanyeol’s father.”

Jeongsu sighed heavily. “There’s been a top secret ongoing investigation into Park Seungjin, though it was focused on bribery and corruption, not connection with the drug trade.” He paused, then looked at Chen with something like regret in his eyes. “Jongdae, you know Baekhyun and Chanyeol were partners.”

It was all he needed to say. Chen clenched a fist. “Baekhyun was working the investigation, wasn’t he?”

Jeongsu nodded, and Chen cursed. He’d never found a motive for Baekhyun’s murder, but here was one. Baekhyun was investigating Park Seungjin. If the man had somehow found out he was being investigated and needed to put a stop to it, that was as good a motive as any.

“Baekhyun was sure Chanyeol wasn’t involved in any of his father's activities,” Jeongsu said. “But if Baekhyun's investigation was the motive for the shooting, somehow or other that information got to him. Chanyeol is connected to both Baekhyun and his father -”

Chen shook his head. “You must have seen Chanyeol since Baekhyun died. The man is an absolute wreck. He can’t be involved.”

Jeongsu looked grim. “I agree, but somehow or other that information got to him, and I have no other leads.”

“Did anyone else know Baekhyun was working on it?”

“Only my direct superiors. It was top secret.”

They were silent for a while. This was all speculation, not enough to go on. They needed more information.

“I’ll meet with Park Seungjin,” Chen said. “I’ll do as he wants and use his support to take down Gwangju. Meanwhile, you can use Baekhyun’s work to focus on taking down Seungjin. Maybe information about the shooting will come to light while we do it, but taking down the drug ring has always been our goal. If we play it right, we can finally catch the body of the lizard.”

“Agreed," Jeongsu said. "What’s your plan to get Gwangju? You haven’t managed to get into his circle and he just tried to have you killed.”

Jongdae looked back out across the water.

“I’ll think of something.”

---

Chanyeol spent most of the night going through the case. Baekhyun had been thorough, but Chanyeol could see why he hadn't presented it yet. The web his father was part of stretched a lot further than one corrupt prosecutor. If Baekhyun focused on Seungjin only, another prosecutor would just slip into his place. In addition, the case needed stronger evidence. With the Chief of Criminal Justice being the one accused, the prosecution were bound to pull any and every string they had. The embarrassment if he was indicted would be crippling. They'd slide the charges to a lower-level staff member, or state lack of evidence or illegally obtained evidence and get the case dropped.

When dawn broke he put the files down. He lay down on the floor, his head on one of the bright cushions scattered around, and his body was so exhausted that he fell asleep the second he closed his ey