Light fingers rapped against a door of expensive walnut. Contrary to its lingering aura of work stress, the office holding it was bright and kept in browns and whites, cosy in the way of a rundown joint. Nicks marred the desks and paper cluttered about. But the scent of stogies in the air gave it a charmingly personal note. 

"Enter."

Hongjoong ducked his head into the opening. He lowered his trilby to his chest, feeling the new fabric. It had been expensive on his training paychecks, but his mother paid half as a celebration for finishing his education. The felt was a smooth brown, suiting Hongjoong's melon of blond.

A massive table dominated the room. It was so cluttered with paper that Hongjoong couldn't tell where the desk ended and the cabinets began. Corkboards covered the walls with information and snaps of ongoing gambits.

The man behind the desk loomed with his height the first time Hongjoong met him, but today, he slouched in his worn leather seat. A butt hung from his lips and filled the room with its sickeningly sweet scent. His wry grin knocked it into his teeth.

"Sit," he offered Hongjoong the only free chair. As the newest addition to the detective bureau hustled into the bleak wooden chair on the other side of the mess, the sunset dancing through the shutters rippled over his coat. 

Yunho rustled through his papers to find his ashtray. He wore chequered braces over a white shirt and his tie was tugged loose to relish his break. Since he didn't bother fixing it, Hongjoong figured he wouldn't point it out.

"Welcome to the team officially," Yunho offered once he rested his smoke on the tray. He found a black folder among the mess of his desk and held it out to Hongjoong. His groan when he fell back into his chair was one of a young person who suffered a life-changing injury. A hatchet man, as the papers told. A petty act of revenge by a bad egg soon locked up after. Yunho was a famous gumshoe, but he was doomed to constant office work ever since the bullet shattered his hip bone.

With nervous fingers, Hongjoong accepted the folder. He had waited for this day. His first proper case on the job. So far, he only accompanied the professionals to crime scenes and jotted down their thoughts as they disassembled a killer's motive in their minds. But this time, Hongjoong was the one who led the investigation. He was the genius behind the law.

His fingers trembled when he opened the folder. When Yunho called him in, Hongjoong had been so nervous he almost threw up. Even now, his palms were sweaty as they took in the page of information on his case.

No murder, which deflated Hongjoong's enthusiasm noticeably. Yunho watched him from hawk eyes while he polished his glasses. He had his reasons not to send the newbie out into the most sinister opium caves of London.

The case was about a widower. The chinch was a male in his late thirties, acting as a loving wife to his husbands. Until a week ago, three of them had bitten the linoleum. Aged between 72 and 86. And then, a week ago, the fourth one. 

Two of them died of a heart attack, unsurprising for their old age. Another had an accident while working on the chimney and this last one died in a tragic mishap when he choked on an apple.

All four of them were of money. Millionaires, investors, owners of more or less honourable establishments. Wise heads with cabbage in their banks and greed in their eyes.

Aside from their riches, they had nothing in common aside from their spouse, and Hongjoong frowned at the first hunch he immediately got.

"Is this about homosexuality or a male vamp?"

"I don't care if the daisy likes it up the windpipe passage. And we can't keep him from marrying the old ones to catch their money, but I wanted to look into it. Seonghwa Park is left with millions to his name and your job is to make sure whether anything queer got him that money," Yunho summarised. Hongjoong flicked the page. The sole suspect only existed because of these odd circumstances. 

"Then still a widower, isn't it?"

"Not by law. He is recognised as the female counterpart in marriage and he acts the part."

A moment later, the vision of the snap pinned to the page struck Hongjoong with understanding. A handsome egg, no, pretty like a daisy, stared back at him with a lidded stare. He tilted a head of raven hair that curled around his ears and nape, and expensive pearl earrings dangled from his lobes. His gloved hands hovered a long pipe before the plushest lips and the smirk coiling around them held almost more promises than the twinkle in his eyes.

Hongjoong cleared his throat. He was uncomfortable with being looked at by that picture.

"It for sure is no surprise why people keep falling for his charm. But at a certain point, they should stop marrying him if he has four husbands in his closet," Yunho grumbled, aware of the telling blush on the face of his new hire. 

Hongjoong adjusted his spectacles to skim the information on the page. The file name was 'The Cursed Widow.'

Name: Seonghwa Park

Age: 37

Sex: M

The periods he had been married were also listed, none longer than two years. Park received thorough schooling from one of the most prestigious private schools in Oxford and he had a clean criminal record. 

"His impeccable narrative makes him fishy, so you will check it out. The funeral of number four is on Sunday, so you can go and get a feeling for his gambit. Note every twitch of his eyes. Every tear."

Awed with Yunho's expertise, Hongjoong closed the folder. This wasn't the first case he imagined, almost boring. Park committed the moral crime of coquetting with sickly old men for their riches, but they had agreed to marry him. The answer wasn't so difficult.

Now the only question was if those elegant hands hid blood under their gloves. 

Should he even care?

Hongjoong could go to the funeral to find out and tail Seonghwa Park or he could decline this job and ask Yunho for something more exciting. A robbery, perhaps, or a criminal who escaped his nickel.

Choose now:

1. Take the job -> go to chapter 3

2. Refuse the job -> go to chapter 2