The stillness of dawn was broken as Gremory and Man-do entered the dimly lit library, their footsteps soft on the worn floors. Their faces were etched with the same blend of intrigue and determination. Bitna sat at her desk, her fingers tracing the edges of a file, eyes sharp and focused as the two approached.

Gremory placed a thick folder before her with a quiet thud. "We might have something for you," she said, her tone serious.

Bitna raised an eyebrow, the smallest hint of interest crossing her features.

"Do you now?" she replied, her voice smooth but tinged with exhaustion.

"A killer  from decades ago," Gremory continued, "Codename J. Took the lives of twelve innocent people, then vanished without a trace."

Bitna's gaze deepened, her brows knitting together as she set the folder aside. "And you're telling me this now because...?"

"There's a twist," Man-do chimed in, his voice hushed.

"The killer left behind a witness. A ten-year-old boy, back in 1999. If he's still alive, he'd be around thirty now."

Bitna's expression remained cold, but her mind clicked into gear. "One lead. That's it?"

Gremory met her eyes, a quiet challenge in her gaze. "It's enough if you know where to look."

She closed the file with a decisive snap, her mind already weaving a plan. "Fine. Let's see where this trail leads."

The world seemed quieter as a strange mailman approached Jiho, his figure cloaked in shadow. The young boy hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as the man handed him an envelope with a faint, almost knowing smile.

"This is from your father," the mailman said, his voice almost a whisper.

Jiho's breath caught in his throat. "M-My father? But he's..." His voice trailed off, uncertain.

"Some things transcend time and space," the mailman replied cryptically, stepping back into the shadows without another word.

Jiho stood frozen, staring at the envelope in his hands. Tears welled in his eyes, but before he could open it, a soft, delicate voice cut through his reverie.

"Don't be afraid, Jiho." Aera stepped into the dim light, her presence offering a strange comfort.

"Who are you?" Jiho murmured, his voice shaky.

"I am a friend of Judge Bitna." she replied while kneeling beside him, her gaze kind.

"Your father wanted you to know he's proud of you. He'll always be watching over you." Jiho sniffled, clutching the letter to his chest.

"Do you think he misses me?"

Aera's eyes softened. "More than words can say. But he knows you're strong. Strong enough to take care of yourself and your grandmother."

Jiho nodded solemnly, though the weight of his emotions lingered in his gaze. "I'll do my best."

The tension in the air was thick as Daon stood over the dimly lit crime scene, his jaw tight, thoughts racing in the silence. The chaos of Jiho's rescue had left behind a trail of scattered clues, but none were as damning—or oddly personal—as the coke can  he now held in his hand.

The same coke can Bitna had handed him hours earlier.

He stared at it, its cold aluminum surface pressing against his palm, as his thoughts spiraled. Could it be? No—Bitna wouldn't... would she?

A bitter rush of doubt crushed him, anger flaring. Why do I always find myself tangled in this mess? he thought bitterly. Tossing the can into an evidence bag, Daon's frustration reached a boiling point.

"She's hiding something," he muttered under his breath, staring at the discarded can. "They're all hiding something."

The faint sound of footsteps behind him pulled him from his thoughts. One of his coworkers called out to him, "You okay there, Daon?"

Daon gave a curt nod, quickly stuffing the evidence into his coat pocket. "Yeah. Let's head back." But as he turned to leave, the weight of the coke can seemed to press harder than anything else he'd carried that night.

Back at the apartment, the quiet was shattered when Bitna suddenly collapsed, crumpling to the floor without warning. Daon, rushing through the hallway, saw her fall, his heart stopping for a moment.

"Judge Bitna!" His voice cracked with panic as he hurried to her side.

He scooped her up in his arms, shaking her gently, desperate. "Judge Bitna, wake up. Damn it, you can't just collapse like this!" His breath came fast as he rushed to the hospital.

Doctors quickly surrounded them when they arrived at the hospital, their faces grim as they assessed Bitna's condition.

"It's extreme stress," the doctor explained after a moment, his voice steady but serious.

"Likely from overworking herself. She needs rest, but I'm concerned about the toll this could take if she doesn't slow down."

Daon's stomach tightened at the doctor's words. He stood by helplessly as Bitna was hooked up to an IV, her body limp and unresponsive. He couldn't suppress the feeling of dread that settled deep in his chest.

As the hours passed and Bitna remained unconscious, Daon wrestled with his thoughts. Was this my fault? Did I push her too hard? The question gnawed at him, leaving him restless and on edge. His mind wouldn't settle.

The door to her room opened, and Aera stepped inside. Her expression was unreadable, cold as ever. The room seemed to grow colder with her presence.

"You finally show up," Man-do muttered, his annoyance thinly veiled.

"I heard Justitia collapsed," Aera replied, her voice calm but edged with a subtle worry.

She ignored Man-do entirely, moving to Bitna's side. Her eyes softened as she placed a hand on Bitna's forehead, though for a brief moment, there was a flicker of something—compassion, maybe. It quickly vanished.

"You always carry the weight of the world, don't you?" Aera whispered, her voice softer than Daon had ever heard.

Bitna's eyes fluttered open then, her voice weak but laced with the sharpness Daon had come to know all too well.

"And you always show up when it's convenient."

Aera smirked, her eyes glinting with something like amusement.

"Someone has to keep you alive."

Daon's voice was harsher than he intended when he spoke, his emotions spilling over.

"What are you doing here?"

Aera's gaze hardened, her arms crossing.

"I heard she collapsed. Figured it was time for me to visit."

Daon stood, his anger rising. "You don't give a damn, do you? Judge Bitna's out there fighting for justice, and you—what, you just leave her to die?"

Aera's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a sneer.

"You don't know anything about me, Daon. I do what needs to be done."

"Yeah? Well, maybe it's time you feel something for once." Daon's voice cracked with frustration, the dam of his emotions finally breaking.

Aera stepped closer, her voice laced with venom. "Don't tell me how to feel. You don't get to."

Daon's anger flared as he took a step toward her. They were inches apart now, the tension thick between them. His voice dropped to a whisper.

"Then stop pretending you don't care."

For a fleeting moment, Aera's mask faltered. Something vulnerable flickered in her eyes before she turned away, her gaze hardening once more.

"You're pathetic," she spat, her tone sharp, before storming out.

Daon stood frozen, the words hanging in the air long after she left. His chest tightened as the anger slowly drained away, leaving behind something far more confusing—uncertainty.