Freen seemed to be writing something on top of her little notebook when Rebecca returned from a brief nap in the locker room—some member had left a thin futon there, so she uses it to taking a nap. After all, knowing that there was a hidden camera in her own house made her reluctant to go home and expose herself more—the long-haired woman looked very serious, judging by her folded face, and seems to ignore the people around her.

The meeting will begin in about an hour. So maybe Freen is jotting down some important stuff she needed to bring up later. Walking slowly while nodding her head at colleagues sitting at their desks and passing beside her, Rebecca stopped her steps not on her own desk but right beside Freen's desk.

The lieutenant noticed Rebecca's arrival, from above she could see Freen's head turning slightly to the side—perhaps noticing Rebecca's shoes—before looking up and looking at her with her piercing eyes. "Welcome back, sergeant. So you're not dead yet, huh?" Freen spoke, short and concise. She didn't say anything else and looked down again to write notes.

Rebecca shook her head in frustration. Just when she returned from her short break, she was greeted with unpleasant words from her new teammate. See, this is why she never liked new members being added to her team. Because of all the people who got on the team, almost nobody had a sane brain—all of them was crazy.

"Could you be a bit more polite to your leader?" Rebecca answered. She raised her right hand and placed it on the tabletop, using Freen's desk as a pedestal.

"I'm telling you, you're my junior."

To be honest, Rebecca would go mad if she continued to stand here and talk to this half-demon in front of her. Her problem itself is complicated enough and she was given a new problem in human form like this—of course Rebecca is getting fed up. She closed her eyes for a moment, turned her face the other way—to the clock on the wall—and held her breath for a few seconds.

But as if she didn't finish making Rebecca Armstrong's day worse, the next sentence Freen uttered seemed to resemble a sharp spear piercing her chest.

"I've read the investigation report and the autopsy report of the previous two bodies. And for the third, because the investigation report had not yet been provided by the field officers, I only read the autopsy report. And... I can only conclude that the way you work is quite interesting."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You only move when someone is dead. Alright, guessing the crazy killer's train of thought and investigating aimlessly like this is tough. But, hey, come on, you guys are educated cops."

BRUG

Rebecca suddenly crept forward, tugging at the collar of the black shirt Freen was wearing—forcing the woman to stand forcibly as if she was about to engage her in a one-on-one duel with her bare hands. The muscles in her hands twitched painfully as she tightened her grip, but that was nothing compared to the rage that was stifling her chest and heating up the top of her head.

Rebecca's face immediately turned bright red—she was angry, unable to contain her emotions anymore when she heard Freen's words spoken with an innocent face. With that close, Rebecca could see Freen's straight face. She didn't show any expression when provoked by Rebecca. She just stared straight at the sergeant's brown irises with pursed lips. She's breathing as usual as if nothing had happened.

Several personnel who were also in the room seemed to be trying to separate Rebecca from Freen. They succeeded, they did, but the next second Rebecca came back at Freen even harder than before. The taller woman nearly fell backwards, but luckily, she managed to keep her balance and let Rebecca grab her neck.

"I don't care about your rank, Sarocha. If you still can't watch your word, I won't hesitate to teach you a lesson on how to behave in this team."

Hearing Rebecca's threat, Freen smiled faintly. "Who hurt you, Sergeant Armstrong?"

"No," Rebecca growled. She pulled Freen's face closer and whispered, "On the other hand, who hurt you, Lieutenant Sarocha?"

"Me?" Freen started to raise her hand. She touched Rebecca's wrist, then up to touch Rebecca's fingers which were still wrapped around her neck. She stayed there for a moment, then suddenly, she pressed on Rebecca's wrist making her flinch. "No, no one."

With the small action taken by Freen, the situation that was originally tense turned even more heated. The tall woman with long hair starting to get angry. Marked by the grip of her hand on Rebecca's wrist that made the young sergeant wince in pain—but still stare intently at Freen.

If Heng had not arrived at that moment, Rebecca and Freen would have beaten each other in that place without anyone else daring to separate them. Everyone knew Chief Sergeant Rebecca had been in such a bad state for the last few months that someone making her this angry would be her own death.

"Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing there!"

Heng and Seng, who had just returned from the convenience store to buy some canned coffee and bread, immediately burst into the room and securing the two superiors and subordinates who were in an uncomfortable position. Luckily, Rebecca and Freen are no longer rebellious and want to be separated from each other.

The taller man dragged Rebecca back to her seat, taking a small glance at Freen who was tidying up her messy shirt and hair, Heng whispered to Rebecca, "What did you do to Lieutenant Chankimha? Hell, no one dared to bother her in Chiang Mai and here you want to fight her instead."

"Shut up, Heng. You have no idea that fucking lieutenant has insulted all of us. Calling us uneducated cops and because of our team the series of murders happened. She spoke as if we hadn't done anything for the last few months!" Rebecca pushed away Heng's hands that were holding her shoulders with one hard push, managed to make the man grunt and choose to take one step back.

In front of her, Freen returned to her seat. The woman grabbed her army-colored jacket that she put on the back of a chair, a flash drive, and a small notebook that she had been using. Her face was not as tense as before, even calmer. Even Seng is impressed by how quickly the lieutenant controlled her emotions and the look on her face.

"No need to be angry, sergeant. Because I just spilled the facts in front of your eyes, that's not a big deal. You need to improve your team's performance before something bad happens."

Freen said in a cold voice. Without waiting for Rebecca's response, she motioned Seng and three other members to come with her to the meeting room. Leaving Rebecca biting her lip and clenching her fists under the table.

The thing I didn't want to happen? Rebecca's breath suddenly caught in her throat. Her brain imagined various kinds of terrible scenarios that she had been imagining in her own mind. Wishing that everything in her mind would actually happen and she didn't have the strength to prevent it. Blood, blood. There is a lot of blood. Mutilated fingers, brain fragments, mutilated bodies. No, no, no, no, no, I don't want—

Cold sweat dripped down from her forehead. Heng seemed to hear Rebecca's squeaky gasps like a rat being trampled on so the he immediately turned around and crouched beside her with a worried expression on his face. "Nong? Nong! Hey, what happened? Your face is really pale!" he patted Rebecca's shoulder, but the woman didn't give any response except that her hands were now moving to grip her own head.

She could hear Heng calling her name as well as asking the other officers for help to fetch water or whatever—but that sound became farther and farther away as her consciousness left her body.

Shit. Rebecca cursed herself in the midst of her increasingly ragged breaths, but she felt that the supply of oxygen filling her lungs was becoming depleted and making her vision slowly fill with thousands of black dots. Shit. I—

BRUG

Rebecca fell to the floor, unconscious.

--0--

Freen came out of the locker room after making sure she was wearing her uniform properly. The dark brown uniform always felt loose on her body, but she didn't care as long as she wore it according to the rules. It was better than a tight uniform that could show off her curves—it was so annoying, she didn't like that.

As soon as she came out, it seemed that Seng already waiting for her in the corridor. The man was carrying a folder containing report files. "Lieutenant," he said when he notice Freen walking towards him. The two of them were now walking together towards the meeting room—not completely together, because Freen is two meters away in front of Seng. "Heng told me that Sergeant Rebecca fell unconscious in the office a few minutes after you left." Seng continued, his words thrown in a lower tone.

Freen stopped in her tracks for a moment, looking at Seng with cold, unfriendly eyes. "You want to say that I'm the one who made her like that?"

"No, I mean," panic was clear on the man's face when Freen suddenly stopped and looked at him as if he were a creature that deserved to be exterminated. Seng decided to keep his expression low and replied quickly, "Becky has been under a lot of stress since working on this case. So I hope you don't put too much pressure on her."

"If we talk about how stressed someone is when faced with work related to the dead body like us, of course everyone feels the same way. It depends on how strong the person is letting negative things get to them," Freen turned back to face the front and continued walking down the corridor. The meeting room was on the 6th floor and they still on the 3rd floor so they had to use the elevator first. She pressed the button to call the elevator, while waiting, Freen continued her words which had been delayed. "Sergeant Rebecca, despite having a good track record in solving cases, still doesn't have the ability to limit herself so she's prone to being mentally shaken like that."

Stopping in front of the double doors—the meeting room—Seng took the time to answer, just before Freen pushed open the door in front of them. "That attitude of yours... don't you feel that you are going a bit too far?"

Freen glanced back, then chuckled softly. A bit too far? Ah, it felt like she had heard the ugly jokes made by the cheesy participants of the standup comedy show. What standard is this man using that he can arbitrarily conclude that her actions and words have gone too far? He was clearly pushing his own standards in her face right now.

What happened to Rebecca is completely her own fault. It's because she couldn't take care of herself that she took out her anger on others just because she refused to accept the fact that Freen gave her. And Freen herself doesn't really like those kinds of people.

Exhaling, Freen tightened her grip on the doorknob, preparing to open it. "That will be my personal business with Sergeant Armstrong. Henceforth, I want you to stay out of our affairs. Can you do it Sergeant Wichai Saefant?" she said. She took the time to look back, waiting for Seng's answer, who looked doubtful. But because of the veiled threat she gave through eyes, in the end Seng nodded. "Good. Now, let's do our job." Freen smiled briefly and immediately pushed open the meeting room door, then walked inside.

Inside, there were several high-ranking police officers who had been invited to monitor the progress of the serial murder case that had caught the public's attention over the last few months. This needs to be done to monitor the performance of the apparatus and ensure whether they are carrying out investigations in accordance with their duties.

It seems that the two officers who had left with Freen and Seng were already inside, preparing equipment. And with Freen and Seng present, the meeting is ready to begin. Of course, the first thing they did was bow while bringing their palms together in front of their chests—paying respect to everyone present in the meeting room.

Saint—their division head was also there. He seemed a little surprised that a new officer was taking over today's exposure. It seemed he also didn't know that Sergeant Rebecca was being taken to the hospital a few minutes ago. Freen walked forward and stood in front of a desk with a laptop on it. She took the time to nod at Saint to greet him.

After tidying up the uniform she was wearing, Freen took the mic and remote-control device to control the presentation slides.

"Four months ago, an object believed to be a statue was found by local residents near the reservoir. When touched, it is known that the statue is actually a human body. The special investigation team from the serious crimes division conducted a crime scene search and at that time we found nothing. TKP is an area that is quite far from residential areas and includes a quiet area when it enters dusk. The lack of eyewitnesses makes finding the first body a tricky start for the police."

Freen started the meeting by showing some photos of the crime scene where the body of the first statue was found. On the second slide, it displays photos of corpses taken at close range. She could catch some of the faces cringing as soon as they looking at the condition of the corpses—Freen didn't blame them, because she also admitted that all the corpses looks strange and terrible at the same time.

"These are autopsy photos of the first corpse. Successfully identified with the name Maniwan Wichasak, around 20 years old, a law student at Chulalangkorn University. She was reported missing by her parents and a month later she was found dead. She died because of the rope around her neck. After Wichasak died, the perpetrator made long cuts on the victim's chest and back to drain the blood, and after that her body was soaked in formalin solution. That's why the corpse is pale like this." Freen explained. She then highlighted one of the photos, and that is the sole of the corpse's foot. "Here, we found an A-shaped incision that the perpetrator deliberately left for the police. No DNA, no eyewitnesses, no traces."

Freen pressed a button on her remote control to move to the next slide. There are several photographs of the corpse which is off white, with rope marks around the neck. "The second body found in a paint can storage shed on the outskirts of Bangkok has been identified as Ratchanichon Wongsawat. Age 26, works as customer service in insurance services. She was killed in the same way as Wichasak. But this time, there was a small incision in her tongue. An incision that formed the letter R. Just as before, there were no witnesses. However, those incisions aren't the only thing left behind by the killer."

Some people started to squint upon hearing Freen's words. Anticipating what this investigative team managed to find. And Freen herself was sure, they all must have assumptions hidden in their minds. And all of that was uncovered when Freen showed a slide filled with photos of anonymous letters addressed to Sergeant Chief Rebecca Armstrong.

There are two letters in total; the first letter contained only the complete address of the sergeant's residence and the second contained the names of her family members, colleagues, and close friends. Everything is written in red ink.

Freen let out a breath that she had been holding involuntarily since she had read all of the contents of the letter. She walked over to the table and stood behind it. Taking a breath, she continued, "These letters were used by the killer to terrorize Chief Sergeant Armstrong, giving her personal threats. But these letters are not the only ones." The slide changes, now showing a photo of the third body that was recently found. She also displayed two eyeballs, one of which was carved in the shape of the letter R. "The third corpse, Nom Chavalit, 24 years old, worked as a minimarket cashier. The killer used a different method because she was actually torturing the victim and not suffocating her like the previous two victims."

Freen stopped her words for a moment, shaking her head at the condition of the corpse and the eyeballs that were clearly visible. She couldn't imagine what the victim felt when her eyeballs were pulled out while she was still alive.

After a few minutes of controlling her emotions, she spoke again. "This time the killer looks more serious because she kills more sadistically than before. And this time she left the letter M carved on the surface of the victim's eyeball. Not only that, she also left Polaroid photographs taken from Chief Sergeant Armstrong's residence and that means that while this case was going on, she was being followed and watched by the killer."

"Through this, we can conclude that the killer was targeting young women between the ages of 20 and 27 living in the Bangkok area. And even worse, the killer dared to terrorize the police and threaten to this extent. Obviously, this is no ordinary serial killer, the person we are looking for now is a deranged psychopath who is obsessed with or has a personal grudge with women. Therefore, with respect, we ask the high-ups to be willing to provide additional personnel assistance from the traffic security department and the cyber and digital crime department to assist the investigation process."

Freen's last words made several high-ranks nod and understand the urgency and what kind of problem they were facing right now. The meeting concluded with favorable comments from the top brass, and they also considered giving an order to the two departments to deploy their best personnel to join the investigative team led by Chief Sergeant Rebecca Armstrong.

"You conveyed everything well, Lieutenant. Who would have thought that you would secretly help Becky. Recently we have been complaining about a shortage of members and when she gives us applications, they are always rejected for reasons that don't make any sense," one of the members approached her. From her nameplate, Freen knew that her name was Urassaya Malaiwong—she would remember it. "Thank you very much, Freen." She said it again, and Freen muttered as she nodded her head.

The four police personnel walked out of the meeting room after the high-ranking officers left the room. Even though she had delivered her explanation well, Freen still felt that there were a number of things that were weighing on her heart. There was something that wasn't right, something that shouldn't have been and she still didn't want to convey that at the meeting earlier because it was only based on her personal assumptions.

It was about three letters found on a body part that coincidentally resembled the first three letters of the surname Chief Sergeant Armstrong. The killer gave a code if she used something belonging to her by sending anonymous letters and photos—which were considered threats—even though, it's possible the killer gave a code that she killed based on the young sergeant's last name.

After all, if her assumption was correct, then the names of the three victims should have the letters ARM in order but since none of the names had the first letter like that, Freen doubted her own guess.

Perhaps the perpetrator knew the victims' nicknames, they followed them the same way as they had stalked Sergeant Armstrong. They knew everything, even the sergeant's private life. So obviously, the killer wasn't too far from this place. And if so, Sergeant Armstrong could be used as bait to catch the killer.

"What's your name?" Freen asked the female officer with short, male-like hair who had helped her prepare her laptop and files before making the presentation.

The officer looked surprised for a few seconds. Maybe she didn't expect that Freen would talk to her because since earlier the long-haired lieutenant had just been silent with her forehead wrinkled as if she was deep in thought. So instead of angering her again like earlier this afternoon, she immediately answered. "Natnicha Vorrakittikun. You can call me Noey."

"Noey? Okay," Freen muttered. "I need you to call Sergeant Armstrong."