Rule #2: The smallest details can paint a bigger picture 

Mark walked into the precinct the next morning, massaging the inside of his palm, when he noticed a crowd of people circling the middle of the office.

He knew what this meant.

"." He muttered before running over to the crowd, pushing through his fellow officers. Jackson was in the center of the crowd, on his knees, pulling the lid off with a grim expression, but Mark already knew what would be inside.

Everyone did.

There was only thing that would ever be inside that specific metal box wrapped in that specific shade of purple ribbon.

Jackson sighed and looked away with a little wince after he caught a glimpse of the contents.

"Is it…?"

"Yeah it is." Jackson said while putting the lid back on.

Mark closed his eyes and resisted the urge to slam his fist into the wall. "Everyone get back to work!"

The crowd dispersed in a second, not wanting to be caught in Mark's wrath, leaving only Jackson behind. "Call forensics up."

Jackson stood up while dusting his knees, "I already did. They're on their way."

"Okay, once we get an ID, we'll go over her la--"

"Mark." Jackson said sternly.

The detective's eye twitched as he turned to his partner, "What? We're wasting time."

"This is the third body this month alone. The Chief wants to see us in his office about the case. He's getting impatient."

Mark kicked the leg of his desk in aggravation, "What does the old man want, now?"

"Answers, probably. It's not looking good that we're getting more bodies than we are evidence." Jackson said as the two men walked towards their Chief's office.

"Maybe if he spent more time actually providing us with resources than he did kissing every bureaucratic he could find, we might actually get somewhere with this case." He growled.

Jackson pat him on the back, "One day he'll bite the dust and you can just do it yourself."

Mark gave Jackson an unamused looked before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

The dragon's den, as Mark so lovingly named it.

Everything was made out of the same shade of Mahogany wood with four ugly green couches all lined up in a square.

"You wanted to speak with us, sir?"

Chief Kwon nodded from behind his grand desk, "Both of you take a seat."

Mark looked at the gleaming gold name plate on the man's desk, "I'd prefer to stand."

The Chief looked up from behind his glasses at Mark whose face stayed blank. Jackson winced and stood behind Mark, knowing that his partner would find any reason to go up against their Chief.

"I heard about what happened in the precinct this morning."

Mark put his hands behind his back, "With all due respect sir, we are trying to s--"

Chief Kwon held his hand up to silence Mark, "It's been six years. Six years of minimal leads and more bodies at our doorstep."

"Sir, we are doing our best a--"

"Well it's clear that your best isn't enough. Your best isn't going to stop this sick from killing these girls. Your best isn't going to get him off the streets and behind bars." Chief Kwon let out a deep breath. "I put you in charge because I thought you would have results. Now I'm not so sure if that was the best idea."

Mark swallowed the lump down his throat and dug his finger nails into his palm. "Sir, I hardly think ta-"

"This is an embarrassment to our precinct and the Seoul police department. The amount of man hours and resources spent on trying to find one man is ridiculous and the faith that I have in you actually finding and arresting this man is dwindling at an exponential rate, Tuan." He said while taking his glasses off.

Mark didn't let his face twitch, "Sir, I think my arrest record shows that I am more than capable of arresting The Collector."

"Your arrest record only shows that you're presently not as skilled as you once were. You used to close cases on a daily basis, but ever since you took lead on The Collector, you haven't been investing yourself in other cases as much."

Mark wanted to scoff. "Well this isn't your regula--"

"Just give us one more chance to find a solid lead." Jackson said, cutting Mark off.

Mark closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He hated having to beg for anything, much less a case that he was already primary on.

"We'll do everything we can and use everything we've got. We've spent too much time to just give the case away now." Jackson pleaded.

Chief Kwon stared at the two men before sighing, "This case does not make our precinct look good. Bodies of the victims are hand delivered to our office and for 10 years we've never gotten closer than a few pseudonyms. The longer this takes, the worse it looks. These girls keep going missing and we keep coming up without any answers. The public is going to get angry. If I allow this, you two must be willing to pull out all the stops."

Mark opened his eyes and grit his teeth, "One more chance. Give us one more chance and if we can't come up with anything useful, we'll hand it off to someone else."

Chief Kwon narrowed his eyes before bobbing head, "Fine. One more chance and remember, you're walking on thin ice here. I know you have your pride, Tuan, but you're going to have to it up and beg on your knees if it gets us closer to closing this case."

"I understand, sir."

The Chief looked at Mark and then Jackson before nodding, "Dismissed."

-----

"Tell me you got something useful?" Mark pleaded when he saw Hwasa, the middle age medical examiner walking passed the Chief's office.

She winced as the three of them walked out together, "Sorry, sugar. I've got nothing on The Collector, spotless as ever, but I've got some info on our girl."

"What can you tell us about her?" Jackson asked as he came up behind her.

Hwasa pushed her glasses up her nose and flipped through the notes on her clipboard. "Based on the colouration on her skin, estimated time of death is around 9:30 PM last night. Everything is the same as per The Collector's usual pattern. He strangled her, mutilated her and then packed her up and sent her over. There's no DNA on her ribbon…collar."

"Do you have her name?" Jackson asked.

Hwasa's eyes lit up, "Actually, I do. Her name is Hyo Min Ah and she's 23. Her last known address is n Daegu but I don't know how relevant that is."

"How did you find that out?" Mark asked while grabbing his jacket off his chair.

Hwasa grabbed his arm before he tried to slip out the door, "Her name got a hit on CODIS. She's been charged before for solicitation. She's a e. Just like all the others. He's not breaking pattern."

Mark glanced over at Jackson, "What do we do?"

"It's time to hang with the civilians."

-----

Saera rubbed her eyes when she came out of her room the next morning. Every time she used sleeping pills, she ended up feeling more tired in the morning.

She noticed a dirty dish in the sink and Youngjae's shoes were missing so she figured her brother was already on his way to school.

She lifted the mail off of the counter and started leafing through them, tossing away the junk mail and opening the important ones.

"Oh ." Saera mumbled when she noticed the small stack of bills. She was behind on a lot of her payments. She barely managed to cover rent and now she had chose between water or heat.

She hissed and slammed the bills onto the counter. This was just another thing to add onto her growing list of Things That are Wrong With Choi Saera's Life.

Saera groaned and stood up, working at the bakery always calmed her down. Just as she was about to make her way downstairs, something on her coffee table caught her eyes.

A glittery purse.

Bile began to form in the back of the girl's throat as images of last night filled her head. She slowly walked towards it before picking it up. The sequins dug into her palm as she felt her stomach churn.

She could almost smell the cheap vanilla perfume that belonged to the owner of the purse. The recently deceased owner of the purse.

She gulped down her spit and snapped the purse open. She closed her eyes and stuck her hand in, feeling around for a wallet. Her fingers grazed a small leather bound square and pulled it out.

Saera flipped the wallet open and stared at the student ID in the window of the wallet. The picture was of a thin, blonde haired woman with thick black roots bleeding from the top of her head.

felt dry, like two pieces of sand paper scratching against each other.

Hyo Min Ah

23

Saera closed her eyes and let out a breath. The girl was only 23 years old. Someone's daughter. Someone's friend. A girl who sat beside someone in university.

And she's dead.

Saera rubbed her temples. She didn't have the time or the energy to grieve about a girl she didn't know.

She shoved the wallet back into the purse before throwing it back on the coffee table. She'll have to deal with this at night because she just couldn't wrap her head around this now.

She did not want to think about a girl whose murder she witnessed.

Saera grabbed her things and slammed the door behind her before walking down the stairs, to the bakery.

They were 15 minutes to opening and there was still prep work that needed to be done.

"You live upstairs, how are you still late to work?" Mireu call out over her shoulder while stirring something in a bowl.

Saera slapped on her charming smile, "It's the artistic process of a psychic. I work my mind so hard that I need my special psychic sleep. My brain is my money maker, you know."

"That logic doesn't work when you're not a real psychic." Mireu snickered.

Saera chuckled while tying her hair up, "Morning darling."

"Morning. Oh hey! Did Youngjae make it home alright?"

Saera froze before she cleared . She grabbed a tray of cupcakes and started arranging them in the showcase.  "Yup! He came almost right after you left."

"That's good. He's a