The courtroom was abuzz with murmurs, the weight of corporate greed and injustice saturating the air. Kang Bitna sat at her podium, her expression cold and unreadable as ever.

The case of CEO Choi Wonjoong had attracted public outrage, a brewing storm of protests outside the courthouse. Inside, the temperature was no less suffocating, with journalists and legal analysts packed into every available corner, hanging on every word.

Daon leaned against the wooden barrier separating the gallery from the judge's dais, his sharp eyes fixed on Bitna. His jaw was set, anger simmering just below the surface.

"She shouldn't even be presiding over this case," he muttered to Detective Kim Soyeong, who stood at his side.

Soyeong gave him a sidelong glance.

"You think this is about her past rulings? Or is it something more personal?"

Daon didn't answer, his gaze flickering briefly to Aera, seated on the opposite side of the room. Her face was stoic, but the glint in her eyes was unmistakable—a silent warning to him.

It was the first time they had seen each other since the alley incident, where Daon had discovered her secret. She wasn't just Justitia's sister; she was a demon, an agent of chaos hiding behind a mask of enigmatic grace.

Bitna's voice rang out, silencing the courtroom.

"Order! Let the prosecution present their evidence."

The prosecutor, a wiry man with glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose, stood and began laying out the damning case against Wonjoong.

The voice recording from Mr. Won's final moments was played for the courtroom—a chilling account of the CEO's sadistic cruelty.

The room was gripped in horrified silence as the sound of golf balls striking flesh echoed through the speakers. Bitna's face remained impassive, but her fingers tapped rhythmically against the edge of her podium.

Daon watched her closely, searching for any crack in her icy facade. If she ruled leniently again, she'd have blood on her hands—more than she already did.

When the audio finished, the courtroom erupted in whispers. Soyeong shot Daon a pointed look.

"That should be enough to nail him."

"Should be," Daon muttered darkly. His attention shifted back to Aera, whose expression betrayed nothing.

Was she here to ensure the law took its course, or to manipulate the outcome in favor of her sister? The question gnawed at him.

Later that evening, Daon found himself in the precinct, poring over case files with Soyeong. The fluorescent lights above flickered, casting a harsh glow over the desk.

The files told a grim story—Wonjoong had left a trail of bodies in his wake, employees discarded like trash whenever they posed a problem.

"This is more than corporate greed," Daon said, his voice low.

"This is sociopathic." Soyeong nodded.

"And Bitna's going to be the one to decide his fate."

"She won't deliver justice," Daon spat.

"Not real justice."

Soyeong placed a hand on his shoulder, her tone softening.

"We have to trust the system, Daon."

He shook her off, frustration boiling over.

"The system is broken, and you know it."

Before she could respond, the precinct doors swung open, and Aera stepped inside. Her entrance was as commanding as ever, her presence like a shadow that refused to be ignored. Daon tensed immediately, his body coiled like a spring.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, standing up. Aera's lips curled into a faint smirk.

"Relax, Detective. I'm not here for you." Her tone was laced with condescension, a deliberate barb.

Soyeong stepped between them, her hand resting on Daon's arm.

"What's your business, Ms. Aera?"

"I'm here on behalf of Judge Bitna," Aera replied smoothly.

"She wanted me to retrieve some documents." Her gaze shifted to Daon, her smirk widening.

"Unless the detective has objections?"

Daon's fists clenched at his sides.

"You think you're untouchable, don't you?" Aera tilted her head, feigning innocence.

"Why, Detective, whatever do you mean?"

The tension between them crackled like a live wire, drawing curious glances from other officers in the precinct. Soyeong cleared her throat, breaking the moment.

"Let's stay professional," she said firmly.

"Ms. Aera, the documents are in conference room three."

Aera gave her a curt nod before sauntering off, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. Daon watched her go, his mind racing. She was playing a dangerous game, one he was determined to win.

The next day in court, the trial took an unexpected turn. Wonjoong's defense team presented a motion to dismiss the audio recording as inadmissible evidence, claiming it was obtained unlawfully. The judge's chambers buzzed with heated debate as both sides argued their points.

When the court reconvened, all eyes were on Bitna. Her ruling would determine the case's trajectory, and the stakes couldn't be higher. She stood, her gaze sweeping over the room before settling on Wonjoong.

"The evidence is admissible," she declared, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

"This court will not allow technicalities to shield the guilty."

A murmur of approval rippled through the gallery, but Daon remained skeptical. Bitna was unpredictable; she could still find a way to let the CEO walk free.

As the day wore on, the evidence mounted against Wonjoong. Witnesses testified to his abusive behavior, painting a picture of a man consumed by power and devoid of empathy. Despite this, his demeanor remained defiant, his confidence unshaken.

When court adjourned for the day, Daon lingered outside, waiting for Aera. He caught her as she was leaving the courthouse, her expression guarded.

"You're playing a dangerous game," he said, stepping in her path. Aera arched an eyebrow.

"And you're not?"

"This isn't about me," Daon snapped.

"It's about justice. Something you and your sister seem to have a very loose definition of."

Aera's eyes narrowed, her usual composure slipping for a fraction of a second.

"Careful, Detective. You're treading on thin ice."

Their eyes locked, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. For a moment, it felt as if the entire world had narrowed to this one confrontation, this clash of wills.

"You can't hide forever," Daon said, his voice trembling with anger and something else—determination.

"I'll find out the truth."

Aera's expression softened, almost imperceptibly.

"And what will you do when you do? Destroy me? Or yourself?"

Before he could respond, she turned and walked away, her figure disappearing into the crowd. Daon stood there, his mind racing. The truth felt closer than ever, but it was a truth he wasn't sure he was ready to face.