I Can Hear a Serial Killer's Voice in My Head Chapter 120: The Visit

I arrive at the police station early in the morning, my heart pounding but my exterior calm. As I approach the front desk, I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what I know will be an uphill battle.

"Good morning," I say, flashing my badge. "I'm Detective Park Minjun from the Seoul tropolitan Investigative Unit. I'm here to speak with Lee Chunsik."

The desk sergeant looks up, his face a mixture of surprise and suspicion. "Lee Chunsik? I'm sorry, but he's not available for visitors. He's in the middle of an ongoing investigation."

I nod, having expected this response. "I understand, but this isn't a social call. It's related to an ongoing investigation by our unit."

The sergeant frowns. "I wasn't inford of any involvent from your unit. I'm afraid I can't authorize this without approval from higher up."

"I see," I say, keeping my voice level. "In that case, could you please contact your superior? I'd be happy to explain the situation to them."

The sergeant hesitates, then nods reluctantly. He picks up the phone and makes a brief call. A few minutes later, a middle-aged man in a crisp uniform approaches, his face set in a stern expression.

"I'm Senior Inspector Jeon," he introduces himself. "I understand you're requesting to speak with Lee Chunsik?"

I nod, extending my hand. "Detective Park Minjun, Seoul tropolitan Investigative Unit. Yes, I need to speak with Lee regarding an ongoing investigation."

Senior Inspector Jeon shakes my hand firmly but doesn't soften his expression. "I'm sorry, Detective, but even if you are from the tropolitan Unit, we can't allow you to interfere with our investigation. Lee Chunsik is a high-profile suspect in multiple cases."

I take a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm. "I understand your position, but I'm afraid I must insist. As a mber of the Seoul tropolitan Investigative Unit, I have the authority to pursue leads related to our cases, even if they intersect with ongoing local investigations."

Senior Inspector Jeon's eyes narrow. "And what case exactly are you investigating that involves Lee Chunsik?"

I et his gaze steadily. "I'm afraid that information is classified at this ti. However, I can cite the relevant regulations that grant this authority."

Without waiting for a response, I begin reciting the specific clauses and regulations that Han and I had reviewed the night before. "According to Section 7, Subsection C of the tropolitan Police Operational Guidelines, mbers of our unit have the right to interview suspects in cases that may have connections to ongoing tropolitan-level investigations.

Furthermore, Regulation 15-B states that..."

I continue for several minutes, laying out a comprehensive legal argunt for my right to speak with Lee. Senior Inspector Jeon listens, his frown deepening, but I can see a glimr of resignation in his eyes.

Finally, he holds up a hand to stop . "Alright, Detective. You've made your point. I still don't like this, but it seems I don't have much choice. You can have 30 minutes with Lee Chunsik."

Relief washes over , but I keep my expression professional. "Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation."

Senior Inspector Jeon nods curtly. "Officer Kim will escort you to the holding area. Rember, 30 minutes only. And we'll be monitoring the conversation."

I've overco the first hurdle, but the real challenge lies ahead. In just a few minutes, I'll be face to face with the man who allegedly killed my parents.

We stop outside a nondescript door. Officer Kim turns to . "Are you ready, Detective?"

I nod, taking a deep breath. "I'm ready."

As the door opens, I steel myself for whatever lies ahead. Thirty minutes. Thirty minutes to look into the eyes of a killer, to search for the truth, to maybe finally get so answers.

I step through the doorway, my heart pounding in my chest. The room is small and stark, with a single table and two chairs. And there, sitting on the other side, is Lee Chunsik.

I freeze, montarily taken aback. This is not what I expected.

Lee Chunsik, the man accused of brutal murders and rapes, looks... gentle. Delicate, even. His features are fine, almost handso, with a softness that seems at odds with his alleged cris. He could be a character from a romance novel, aged gracefully into his late 40s. It's jarring, this disconnect between his appearance and the horrors he's accused of committing.

The door closes behind with a soft click, leaving us alone. Lee looks up, his eyes curious.

"Who are you?" he asks, his voice surprisingly lodious.

I shake myself out of my brief stupor, reminding myself why I'm here. I sit down across from him, eting his gaze steadily.

"I'm Detective Park Minjun from the Seoul tropolitan Investigative Unit," I say, keeping my voice neutral. "I have so questions about your cases."

Lee sighs, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "I've already been through all this. Multiple tis."

"I understand," I say, "but I need to hear it from you directly. Let's start with the Shin Miso case from 2015. Can you walk through what happened?"

Lee leans back in his chair, his delicate fingers drumming on the table. Then he begins to speak, his voice taking on a detached, almost rehearsed quality.

"It was a Tuesday night. I saw her leaving work late, around 10 PM. I followed her to the bus stop on Gangnam-daero. When she got off at her stop, I..."

As Lee continues, describing the details of the cri with an unsettling precision, sothing clicks in my mind. At the exact sa mont, Bundy's voice echoes in my head, perfectly in sync with my own thought:

"He's reciting it like a script."

I lean forward slightly, my eyes never leaving Lee's face. "Mr. Lee," I interrupt, "can you tell about any details that weren't in your official statent? Sothing you might have forgotten to ntion before?"

Lee blinks, his rhythm broken. For a split second, I see sothing flicker in his eyes - uncertainty? Fear? But it's gone so quickly I can't be sure.

"I don't understand," he says, his voice losing so of its lodious quality. "I've told you everything. It's all in my confession."

Lee's face contorts with frustration, his earlier composure cracking. "What more do you want from ?" he snaps, his lodious voice taking on a harsh edge. "I've given you all the details the police asked for. Every single one."

I lean forward, about to press further, but Lee continues, his words tumbling out in a rush.

"Are you trying to make cook up more evidence? More statents?" He laughs bitterly. "Isn't what I've already shared more than enough to make the murderer you all want to be?"

The accusation hangs in the air between us. I open my mouth to protest, to explain that I'm just seeking the truth, but before I can speak, the door behind swings open.

Officer Kim steps in, his face impassive. "Ti's up, Detective. Your 30 minutes are over."

I nod slowly, my eyes still fixed on Lee. As I stand to leave, I see a change co over him. The frustration lts away, replaced by sothing else - a smug satisfaction that sends a chill down my spine.

Lee grins at , a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. It's a knowing look, as if he's privy to a secret I can't begin to fathom. Then, just as quickly, he turns away, dismissing entirely.

I walk out of the room, my mind whirling with questions. That grin, that sudden shift in deanor - it all feels wrong. It's as if Lee dropped a mask for just a mont, revealing sothing darker underneath.

As Officer Kim leads back through the station, I can't shake the feeling that I've just scratched the surface of sothing much bigger and much more sinister than I'd imagined. Lee's words echo in my head: "the murderer you all want to be."

What did he an by that? And why do I have the sinking feeling that the truth is slipping further away from with each passing mont?

As I step out of the police station, the bright sunlight montarily blinds . I reach into my pocket for my sunglasses and feel my phone vibrate. Pulling it out, I see a text ssage from Han:

"How did it go? Any breakthroughs?"

I lean against my car, considering how to respond. The encounter with Lee was... unsettling, to say the least. But I'm not ready to share my suspicions over text. Instead, I type out a brief reply:

"Got to see Lee. Only 30 mins. Heading to the scene of his latest victim now. Will brief you later."

I hit send and slide the phone back into my pocket. The scene of Lee's latest alleged cri - it's not much, but it's a lead. Maybe there, among the physical evidence, I'll find sothing that the reports missed, sothing that could shed light on the inconsistencies I'm beginning to see.