I Can Hear a Serial Killer's Voice in My Head

Ko's eyes widen. "Go on."

"We've been focusing on elderly victims, people our killer perceives as vulnerable," I explain. "But what the killer is attempting to switch the target while still targeting those society often overlooks?"

Understanding dawns in Ko's eyes. "The red light district," she breathes.

I nod grimly. "Sex workers, hostesses, people who might not be immediately missed or whose disappearance might not raise immediate alarms. It fits with our killer's pattern of targeting the vulnerable.

Ko's expression turns serious. "That's... a concerning possibility. And given the Yakuza's involvement in those areas, it could complicate our investigation significantly."

I take a deep breath, organizing my thoughts. "It's a combination of factors," I begin. "First, let's look at the pattern we've observed so far. Our killer has consistently targeted vulnerable individuals - the elderly, the disabled. People who are often overlooked or undervalued by society at large."

Ko nods, following my logic. "And you see sex workers fitting into this category?"

"Exactly," I confirm. "Sex workers, particularly in red light districts, are often marginalized and stigmatized. They're vulnerable in many ways - socially, economically, and physically. This aligns with our killer's preference for victims they perceive as weak or defenseless."

Ko listens intently to my theory, her brow furrowed in concentration. After a moment, she raises a valid concern. "I see your point, but there's something we need to consider," she says. "These districts are always well-guarded by the Yakuza. It would be extremely difficult for an outsider to sneak in and commit a murder without being noticed."

I nod, acknowledging her point. "You're right, and that's actually something I've been thinking about. In fact, I have an idea, but it's a bit unorthodox."

Ko raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you have in mind?"

"I'd like to speak with one of the Yakuza representatives," I say, watching her reaction carefully.

"They might have insights or information that could be crucial to our investigation."

To my surprise, Ko doesn't immediately dismiss the idea. Instead, she considers it for a moment before nodding. "That's... actually not a bad idea. It's not our usual protocol, but given the circumstances, it might be necessary. I can arrange a meeting with one of the Yakuza who came to report today."

Relieved by her openness to the suggestion, I follow Ko as we walk back into the main part of the station. The atmosphere is tense as we pass by officers who cast curious glances our way. Ko approaches a senior officer and has a brief, hushed conversation.

After a few minutes, she returns to me. "It's arranged. They're setting up a meeting room now. Are you sure about this?"

I nod firmly. "Yes, I think it's our best shot at getting ahead of the killer if my theory is correct."

As we wait, I can feel the weight of what we're about to do. Engaging directly with the Yakuza is a risky move, one that could have serious repercussions if not handled carefully. But if it helps us prevent another murder, it's a risk I'm willing to take.

Finally, an officer approaches us. "The meeting room is ready, and the Yakuza representative is waiting," he informs us.

Ko gives me one last look. "Ready?"

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. "Ready."

***

The tension in the meeting room is palpable as I sit across from the Yakuza representative, with Ko beside me. The man, dressed in an impeccable suit, shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

"I don't understand why I'm here," he protests, his voice a mix of irritation and barely concealed nervousness. "I've done nothing wrong. This isn't part of our arrangement."

I raise my hands in a placating gesture. "Please, calm down. You're not in any trouble. I just have some questions about your red light district operations."

The Yakuza's eyes narrow, and he turns to Ko. "This isn't what we agreed to. Our reporting doesn't cover these kinds of details."

Ko hesitates for a moment, then nods at me. "It's alright. Please, hear him out."

Taking a deep breath, I begin to lay out what I know about their red light zone business.

"You're facing numerous challenges, aren't you? Difficulty finding new workers, decreasing customer numbers, growing social stigma. Not to mention the hygiene and health concerns, and the new laws aimed at shutting down such operations."

The Yakuza's expression shifts from anger to surprise, then to grudging respect. He clearly wasn't expecting this level of insight.

"How do you know all this?" he asks, his tone a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

I ignore his question, pressing on. "This isn't about punishing you. We're conducting an investigation, and we need information. Tell me, have you adopted any... new business models recently?"

The man's face becomes a mask of confusion, but I can see the flicker of recognition in his eyes. "I don't know what you mean," he says, but his voice lacks conviction.

I lean forward, my voice low and insistent. "I think you do. Based on what I've seen in Seoul, many operations like yours are moving online. One-on-one matching services, using private hotels or even normal houses to avoid suspicion. Is that happening here in Gwangju too?"

The Yakuza representative falls silent, his internal struggle visible on his face. After what feels like an eternity, he sighs heavily. "Yes," he admits reluctantly. "We've had to adapt to survive."

I can see the moment when Ko realizes what I'm getting at. Her eyes widen slightly as the implications sink in.

"You're thinking our killer might target these women in private settings," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Without having to risk entering the red light district itself."

I nod grimly. "Exactly. It's a perfect opportunity for someone looking to prey on vulnerable victims without drawing immediate attention."

The Yakuza looks between us, a mix of confusion and concern on his face. "What killer? What are you talking about?"

I turn back to him, my expression serious. "We believe there's a serial killer targeting vulnerable individuals in Gwangju. And now, thanks to your information, we have a new angle to pursue."

As the gravity of the situation settles over the room, I can see the Yakuza representative's demeanor change. Whatever his other activities, it's clear he doesn't want to be associated with a serial killer targeting his workers.

"What do you need to know?" he asks, his voice now earnest and cooperative.

As the gravity of the situation sinks in, Ko and I engage in a tense but productive discussion with the Yakuza representative. We explain the urgency of the situation and the potential threat to the women working in their online operations.

"We need your cooperation to protect these women," I explain. "We'd like permission to track their movements, with help from your members."

The Yakuza representative shifts uncomfortably. "You understand this is a delicate situation. Legally speaking, we're in a grey area. The women could claim they're just looking for hookups."

Ko nods, her expression grim. "We're aware of the legal complexities. But right now, catching this killer has to be our priority. We're willing to... overlook certain aspects of your operation in the interest of public safety."

After a moment of consideration, the Yakuza rep nods slowly. "Alright. We'll cooperate. But I need assurances that this won't be used against us later."

"You have our word," Ko promises, her tone solemn. Join us on m-vl-em,py-r

As we begin to hash out the details of our unconventional collaboration, a familiar voice suddenly emerges in my mind.

"Well, well," Bundy's smooth tone echoes in my head. "I must say, I'm impressed. You've grown quite adept at this game, detective. Manipulating the system, bending the rules... you're becoming quite the officer."

I internally bristle at his words. "I don't need praise from you," I think back sharply, pushing his voice aside.

And then I realize something. These intrusions from him and the other killers have become less frequent lately. Is it possible that, as Bundy suggested, I've become a more capable detective? Do I no longer need their twisted insights as much as I once did?

The thought is both comforting and unsettling. Have I truly improved, or have I simply become more accustomed to thinking like them?

As I'm about to mentally retort to Bundy's unsettling praise, I notice the Yakuza representative's expression change dramatically. He's been on the phone with his colleagues, discussing the arrangements we've just made, but now his face has gone pale, his eyes wide with concern.

He slowly lowers the phone, his hand trembling slightly. Ko and I exchange a quick glance, immediately sensing that something is wrong.

"What is it?" Ko asks, her voice tense.

The Yakuza rep swallows hard before speaking, his voice laced with worry. "Something's come up. One of our women... she went out for a service call about five hours ago. She hasn't returned yet."

I feel my heart rate quicken as he continues.

"We've lost contact with her. She always checks in regularly, but she's gone completely silent. This isn't like her at all."