Chapter 12

The youngest profiler in South Korea.

Whenever he heard it from other people’s mouths, it was nothing but a plausible-sounding line on a résumé. But to someone, it could also be a title that stirred curiosity.

“Muerte asked me to identify what he did. Who he is, why he did this. But I’m not a criminal psychology expert.”

“So you’re saying that from the start, the bastard wanted me to be involved?”

“It’s only a guess, but that’s what I think.”

“Couldn’t it be someone connected to a case you handled in the past?”

“At first I thought that might be it too, but it doesn’t feel like such a simple reason.”

Iheon tapped the table with the tip of his index finger.

If a killer sends an email confessing his crime and asks for someone to name that sin. And if the recipient of that email is the wife of a criminal psychologist.

It was too coincidental to dismiss as chance.

As Jei said, there was every possibility that the bastard had approached her with that in mind.

No wonder. From the moment he saw the email, it had felt strangely unpleasant. An uncomfortable sense of déjà vu was rarely wrong.

A killer intended to use him—a profiler—as a mere chess piece?

It was laughable confidence.

“This is better, actually.”

If he had to deal with the bastard anyway, he had not the slightest intention of letting Jei face him alone.

“I didn’t show you the email for this……”

“Don’t you think it’s too late to say that now?”

At Jei’s dark expression, Iheon let out a small laugh.

“Actually, if I’d tried to do it alone, it would have felt really daunting.”

Jei chose her words with an awkward smile.

“But since you said you’d gladly do it together, I shouldn’t be like this, but I feel incredibly reassured and relieved. I’m shameless and selfish. Right?”

Instead of answering, Iheon leaned his upper body back against the chair. It was not a question asked in expectation of an answer. But if he had to answer, she was irritatingly selfish.

At the moment she should have truly felt reassured, his wife had chosen to turn away. Hearing such words late was pointless.

And yet, the corner of his heart softened uselessly at those words, which was ridiculous.

“Instead, I’ll take one promise from you.”

Across the island table, their eyes met. In her clear eyes was a pure question.

“Whether it’s an email or a text, the moment the bastard contacts you, tell me immediately.”

He spoke firmly.

“The same goes for reporting. Even if you want to confirm something, never move alone. If you meet someone or receive materials, share everything without hiding anything.”

Jei blinked slowly, then realized his meaning and agreed.

“Yes. I will.”

“I’m telling you not to jump to conclusions on your own and treat me like someone you just notify.”

“I won’t do that anymore.”

“I still don’t trust you.”

“I have at least that much sense.”

“Then act so I can trust you.”

At Iheon’s rebuke, Jei’s eyes wavered for an instant, but she did not add anything.

As the conversation roughly wound down, Iheon turned his wrist and checked his watch. The long summer day had faded, and night had fallen long ago.

“Have you eaten?”

At the sudden question, Jei’s eyes went wide.

“If you’re thinking of eating, let’s eat together. If not, we can eat separately.”

“No! I don’t not want to! I’ll eat! I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday until now. I want to eat with you.”

Jei hurried up from her chair to prepare the meal. To her, Iheon indifferently said to clear the table at least, then indifferently turned away.

A short while later, two plates were set on the island table.

It was aglio e olio, made with thinly sliced garlic browned golden.

Iheon set a plate before each of them and sat down.

It was a night sunk in quiet darkness. In the yard where trumpet creeper bloomed fully, insects cried, and through the large living room window connected to the kitchen, low, cozy light flickered.

The last time they had sat facing each other and eaten like this had been before Jei left without a word—specifically, the evening before Iheon went to Jeju for a two-night, three-day schedule. So it had truly been a long time.

Compared to last night’s dinner, which had been no different from a catastrophe and a complete mess, even with only two plates, it was no different from a banquet.

“Wow……”

Jei looked down at the pasta plate with a mound twirled into a spiral, her face full of emotion.

The noodles tossed in olive oil carried a subtle sheen. The thinly sliced garlic had been cooked crisp at the edges, and finely crushed peperoncino was embedded like red dots, adding to the visual appeal.

Especially the savory smell of roasted garlic and warm olive oil. And tangled with the hunger of having fasted for a full day, it made her mouth water.

“Actually, when I was in the United States, there were times I wanted to eat this aglio e olio you made, Iheon.”

Holding a spoon in her left hand and a fork in her right, Jei twirled a suitable amount of noodles and spoke.

“I went to a restaurant that was supposed to be in the Michelin guide, but it wasn’t as good as what you made.”

She had wasted money for nothing. Jei pushed a forkful of neatly twirled noodles into her mouth. A moment later, she hummed as she savored the taste and curved her eyes into crescents.

“Is it because I haven’t eaten it in so long? It’s so good. No, is it too long to say ‘in so long’? You remember too, right? Back at the officetel, you often made food for me.”

She swallowed without even chewing a few times, then admired in a somewhat exaggerated voice.

Iheon simply emptied his own plate like a machine.

“Even then, you fried the garlic crisp like this.”

Recalling an old memory, Jei speared a piece of garlic stuck to the edge of the plate with the tip of her fork.

“Did you know? I was really surprised back then. I never imagined you would cook for me. I thought you were the kind of person who only made coffee……. And it was even good.”

She chattered alone and laughed alone. The man gave no answer at all, and his attitude was enough to make her feel awkward, yet Jei diligently kept the words coming.

“I tried making it alone in the United States too. Aglio e olio looks easy, with few ingredients. Garlic, olive oil, noodles, peperoncino.”

Unlike Jei, who did not stop chattering, Iheon silently devoted himself to eating. As if he were a person who could not hear her voice, he did not give her a single glance.

Still, Jei stubbornly continued.

“But strangely, it didn’t taste like yours. The garlic burned black, the noodles got soggy, and the oil was too thick and sticky. In the end, I tried about two more times and gave up.”

“…….”

“I’m decent at Korean food, but I really have no knack for Western—”

“Jei.”

He, who had been continuing only his own meal while she chattered, suddenly cut her off.

When she looked at him wondering if he had something to say, Iheon swallowed a sigh and pointed at her plate.

“Stop talking and just eat.”

“Huh?”

“Rather than chattering about anything because the awkwardness bothers you, it’s more efficient to put something in your mouth and chew.”

“Ah……”

Jei stared blankly at Iheon for a moment.

Her lips moved as if searching for something to reply, but in the end she said nothing, lowered her head, and twirled noodles around her fork.

The table quickly fell quiet. The place her voice had been diligently filling until moments ago felt empty. Instead, the small sounds of silverware scraping plates filled it.

Iheon, who had emptied his plate first, set down his fork and picked up his water glass. As he cleared the taste and aroma left in his mouth, he checked his wife’s plate.

She had not even eaten half.

Compared to the person who had sparkled her eyes moments ago saying she was hungry, her eating pace was slow.

Even after setting down the water glass, Iheon did not rise from his seat. It was not exactly that he was waiting for her. It was simply that if he got up, she seemed likely to leave her food and follow him.

He did not want to see the woman who had said she had not eaten anything since yesterday fail to even finish the half plate of pasta before her.

That was all.

It was not as if she had lost her spirit from a single word. Was her stomach upset? Should he have made something other than pasta? Should he have boiled porridge or something easier to eat?

When his thoughts reached that point, Iheon found himself ridiculous and let out a short sigh.

Bullshit. Porridge, my ass.

He looked down at the empty plate before him, then picked up the water glass again. Water droplets on the clear glass smeared coldly on his fingertips.

“If you can’t eat it, leave it.”

Jei paused in the middle of twirling noodles around her fork, then soon spun it round and round again.

“If you’re tired, go in first and rest. I’ll finish this and clean up.”

Iheon knew she was making an effort.

That she chattered about anything because the silence was uncomfortable, and that she exaggerated how delicious it was to change the mood at the table.

While such effort was desperately needed between them now, at the same time he felt a petty irritation: if you were going to do this, why did you do that?

“Do you have something to say?”

Feeling Iheon’s obvious gaze, Jei swallowed the pasta in her mouth and asked.

“Sleep in the bed.”

“Can I?”

“Sleeping curled up on the sofa looks like a protest, and it bothers me to see it.”

“I thought you might be uncomfortable—”

“If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll endure it as discomfort, so you endure it too.”

Jei nodded silently.

In truth, it was that sleeping separately bothered him, yet he had said useless nonsense.

Ha…… Was I this pathetic?

Feeling skeptical of himself, Iheon raised his glass to wet his throat, then realized it had already been empty and quietly swallowed a sigh.