For Seo-young, tailing Anthony with John st night flipped everything upside down for her. She found out Magic was real. Breathing magic had crashed into her world, a first she couldn’t unsee. Anthony’s shadow loomed darker, prime suspect almost confirmed. And John’s razor-sharp instincts shone through, undeniable. If he hadn’t insisted on wearing masks and caps to shroud their faces in that hilltop perch, they’d be burned, identities spshed wide open.

  But the kicker, the real gut-punch: John had torched her little bedroom fun with Min-jun, and she couldn’t shake it.

  After parting ways with John, buzz was still humming under her skin. She’d stumbled back to her apartment with Min-jun, wired and restless. His questions hit her like static, “Where were you tonight?”, but she brushed them off, barely hearing. Maybe it was his chiseled jaw, or that tall, broad frame towering over her—she didn’t know—but her pussy was gushing. A restless itch was fring hot inside her. For once, she threw her usual caution out and turned to him, voice bold, eyes glinting: “Fuck me hard now, Oppa.” Min-jun blinked, and didn’t hesitate, diving into their familiar dance, a quick spark of their usual fun. It flowed at first, smooth, natural. But then it dulled quickly. Min-jun seemed to give it his all. He seemed focused, fierce, sweat beading, but his eyes stayed cool, ft, missing that raw, hungry edge.

  Not like John’s.

  John’s gaze, even when he’d been scanning the two goons outside the car, or muttering their bluffing pn under his breath. Those eyes just couldn't lie. They bzed, molten, scorching, every gnce searing her skin, setting her alight. His hands weren’t rough, no. His sucks and squeezes on her tits were almost careful, but they carried a weight, a greed that screamed he’d devour her whole if she let him. His breath, heavy, ragged, hitched with every gulp he swallowed, throat working loud. He’s a man unhinged, craving her down to the bone.

  Fucking pig, she thought, that bel sticking firm, but she’d seen it: he’d fought it, reined it in, damn near gentlemanly in his leash. A pig and a gent? What a ridiculous mess of a man.

  Seo-young was still drifting, lost in that swirl of John’s fire. But then Min-jun’s voice cut through, smooth but probing.

  “Babe, why your nipples smell like smoke?”

  The question yanked her back, hard, fshing to John’s lips on her nipples, sucking hard, smoke and heat clinging to her skin. She blinked at Min-jun, still gorgeous, fwless, his hair still perfect even after their wild tumble, sweat barely breaking his polish. A wave of disappointment crashed over her, deep, bitter, tempting her to snatch her phone, shove that “accidental” video in his face, and scream, “This is why, you dipshit. watch and learn how to suck tits!”

  But she bit it back, swallowing the urge whole. She couldn’t do that to him. Min-jun hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. From day one, he’d hooked her, perfect jaw, that rugged charm, a face too handsome to be fair, and above all, that fierce drive to accomplish something with his life. With a perfect man like that, what right did she have to compin?

  So she lied, voice steady, eyes flicking away. “Met some informants at a bar today, you know, the guy you heard talking. He smokes like crazy, and kept blowing it my way. So I smell like smoke, head to toe.” Min-jun paused, searching her for a beat, and then just nodded. He didn’t press, and kept moving, hands steady, rhythm unbroken, like nothing had shifted.

  When he finished, Seo-young felt miles from satisfied. She watched Min-jun peel off the condom, fingers deft, casual. She hesitated a bit, and fumbled out a plea: “Could you… uh… go again, Oppa? If you don’t wanna take the pill, you… uh… can just use your hands.”

  He didn’t even gnce her way, eyes fixed ahead, tone clipped. “No, babe. Got an early start tomorrow. Commissioner Miller’s handing me a big job.” With that, he rolled off, heading for the shower. Seo-young’s gut churned, irritation fring hot, snuffed out by his cold brush-off. Pissed, she yanked the bnket up, cocooning herself in a sulky huff, and burrowed down to sleep it off.

  So when Seo-young saw John this morning for their pre-arranged meet-up, she didn’t hesitate: fist flew, smacking his chest hard.

  “Ouch, what’s that for?” he yelped, wincing, her punch smming the brakes on the steamy Catherine daydreams that’d been looping since he’d bolted from home. His focus snapped back, zeroed in on Seo-young. Her face was a storm cloud, radiating heat and bite. Last night flickered up, those tangled, messy moments, and a tiny little bit of guilt tugged at him, sheepish as he ventured, “Why’re you mad, Seo-young?”

  Asking a pissed-off woman “why’re you mad” is one of the dumbest things a man can do. You think they’d crack open their skull, y out a neat little list? Nah, cssic trap. They’d either snap “I’m not mad” through gritted teeth, or hit you with “you should fucking know.” Rabbit hole, box of worms. Never go there.

  Seo-young didn’t stray from the script. She shot him a gre that could’ve melted steel, then shouted, “I’m fine!” John got it now. It was because of st night, no doubt, and something to do with her boyfriend Min-jun too. So he zipped his lips, letting her steer the rest of the conversation.

  She was a cop, a very professional one after all. Silence hung a beat, and then she pivoted to the case. “How’d you know it was all magic from the start?” John flinched inside. His past was a freakshow he wasn’t ready to unpack, at least not for now. Tell the true story, and she’d just write him off as unhinged.

  “Well, it’s complicated. All I can say is I’ve been around, seen shit, okay?” he dodged the question. Seo-young didn’t push, as she knew that apart from his sexual appetite, he’s almost decent, at least that’s what she saw for herself. She had trust for him, so she let the dodge slide, and leaned in with another question instead. “Then tell me what you got so far. How much do you know about this killer now?”

  John didn’t hold back his findings, and he id them all out. “From what we’ve seen so far, I’m sure he’s got [Charm], [Sound Barrier], [Eagle Vision], [Arcane Manifestation]. These four skills? Locked in. He used [Charm] on multiple victims, but none of them engaged in any sexual activity with him, none that we’ve found. So looks like he was testing the spell rather than using it. No action with them? Probably he thinks willing women are dull.” John rubbed his nose, and added, “Also, there was no new victim of [Charm] after Mina, meaning he’s getting bored of the spell, and not intending to use it again, at least not for sex.”

  Seo-young listened, her pen scratching quick notes, eyes narrowed, soaking it in. And John continued his inference, voice steady: “I think what excites he is the rape, the violence, those pure psycho shit. And for that to work smoothly for him, I’d bet he’s got [Body Boost] too, makes him stronger, faster, easier to dominate.” John then fished a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, took two slow drags, before his further analysis. “He’s not dumb, not at all, maybe not genius, but twisted enough. His way of using [Sound Barrier] is way beyond normal. It’s built for secret talks, confidential meetings. Inside, you chat fine, and outside noise is blocked, no leaks. But for this sick fuck? He flips it. He uses it to muffle screams so no one hears, but keeps it all inside, while blocking all the noises outside the barrier, so he can savor every shriek, undisturbed.”

  Seo-young’s spine iced, chill creeping up as his words sank in. “You’re saying… he likes the cries for help?” John dragged another puff, nodded slowly. As much as he hated it, he had to admit there were lots of sick fucks out there, and sometimes he’d doubt if he himself was one of them.

  But the interesting thing is, he saw that today, she didn’t flinch or try to fan away the smoke between them. She just sat there, listening to John carefully.

  “So, he’s very powerful. Then how do we even catch him?” Seo-young pressed with this crucial question.

  John shook his head, slow and heavy, a hint of resignation tugging his mouth. “We probably won’t catch him. My suggestion? Take him out before he can lift a finger to cast any spells. SWAT, military, mercenaries, whoever you can think of, whoever you can call. Round them up, and make a serious pn. That’s what I would do.” He paused, exhaled a thin stream of smoke, and then tacked on, “Trust me, I’d rather he didn’t go down this easy. A bullet to the head? So not my thing. Fucker like him needs to suffer, and then beg for death. I’ve got two buddies he hasn’t met yet, and I’d love to give him to them. But that’s just way too risky. Gotta py it safe.” The two buddies John was talking about were of course Tyler and Liam.

  Then their talk shifted. Very naturally, they turned to talk about Anthony, the number one suspect now. Last night, he’d slipped into that shack, and minutes ter, a body got chucked out, stiff, lifeless. He looked every inch like the dockside goon-boss, who’s managing their god-knows-what “business”.

  “Should I get a search warrant for his pce?” Seo-young asked, pen hovering. John shook his head again. “We can’t lock it on him yet. Still could be someone else. Plus, one: if we do the search now, we’d spook the snake; two: I know his mom. She’s thorough. She would’ve torn their house apart already to search for anything reted to Anthony’s weird behavioral pattern tely. If there was anything of interest, she’d have tipped me off already, right before we tailed Anthony.” Upon hearing his connection to Anthony’s mom, Seo-young’s eyebrow arched, sharp, curious, She kind of wanted to ask about Anthony’s mom’s retionship with him. But then she just shrugged it off. Well he’s a horny pig, so not surprising he’s doing Anthony’s mom too. Vivan tells me Mommy is his thing. So she let it drop, too tired to dig into that mess.

  “DNA from the semen on the victims, does it match Anthony’s?” John didn’t clock Seo-young’s sidelong gnces and her little digs. He cut straight to what gnawed at him. A match would prove he’d overthought it, and Anthony was the serial rapist and killer, end of story. But his head was a mess, split down in the middle. If Anthony was the guy, it’d be clean. The case would close fast, no more anxious nights jumping at shadows for him anymore. But something else tugged, some weird trust in Anthony, despite everything. He loathed the bastard, a bully, thick as a brick, but John’s gut pegged him not a killer type. Anthony had girls falling over him, always had. He had no reason to harbor that kind of venom toward them. He’d break hearts for sure, shatter them to pieces, but physically hurt a woman? Not his game, at least not from John’s perspective. What he wouldn’t admit though was Selena’s voice that day, her steady eyes, lodged a quiet need in him: he felt that he owed her an answer about her son, a fair one.

  Seo-young broke the silence, giving out the answer John was looking for. “Don’t know yet. We ran it against every ex-con’s DNA, our full database. And there was no match. Searched ‘Anthony Vanderbilt’ in the database too. He has no crime records, nothing. So to confirm, we need his sample. Maybe you can…”

  She flicked her eyes to John, a tone of testing. “Maybe you can talk to his mom, get her to snag a hair or something?”

  But John snorted, sharp, dismissive, almost ughing at the absurdity. “No way. She’s a mother, Seo-young. Come on, if Anthony’s the killer, you’re asking her to hand over the key evidence to convict her kid. What would that do to her, you ever imagined? You don’t do that to a woman.”

  Huh? Did I hear that right? Seo-young’s brain screeched. This horny pig’s preaching about how to treat women right, now of all times?

  She shot him a look, pure what-the-fuck look, lips pursed. John caught it, and pressed on anyway, voice firming up. “Point is, we’re not at the stage of ‘convict him’ yet. Prosecution’s step two. First, we’ve gotta take him down. If he’s the guy, he’s got magic, and taking him down is the real problem. Once he’s down, dead or alive, you can grab whatever sample you want, charge him then.”

  Seo-young tilted her head, chewing what John said. And John finally threw his hands up, cigarette still smoldering between his fingers. “That’s all I’ve got, everything I know. Your turn, what’s new from you?”

  Seo-young’s lips twitched at his question, slowly curling into a smug, self-satisfied grin. John’s clever, sure, but he still needs me. The thought fred, cocky and bright, before a flush crept up her neck, embarrassment nipping quick. She coughed—ahem, ahem—shaking off the weird little spiral, then reached into her bag, pulling out a crisp file. “Got a tip from an informant,” she said, voice steadying. “The dock shipment’s tied to Nexis’s biggest gang, the Reapers. Word is, they’re the buyers, and they’re also the sole pipeline for every ounce of drugs in this city. So, Anthony could be running drugs. You want more leads? They’re your best shot.” She slid the file across, eyes locked on him, waiting for him to read.

  Drugs? John’s mind snagged, doubt cwing up. That loudmouth goon st night, yakking about “the goods,” throwing that hip-thrust move. This doesn’t make much sense. Did he mean drugging women?

  His brow furrowed, suspicious, but he cracked the file anyway. Pages rustled as he skimmed, silence stretching long. Then he finally caught it. He raised his head, and saw Seo-young’s grin, all squinted eyes and quiet triumph, watching him like a cat with a mouse. It all clicked, sharp, sudden. He leaned back, sighed before he spoke again.

  “So, you want me to go undercover, huh?”

  somerealnerd