I Can Hear a Serial Killer's Voice in My Head Chapter 126: Connecting Dots (1)

I lean forward, my voice low. "Mr. Chun, I need to ask you sothing that might be sensitive. Are you still getting smuggled goods?"

Chun's face imdiately hardens, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "How's that gonna help Lee? Sounds to like you're fishing for sothing else, Detective."

I hold up my hands in a placating gesture. "I understand your concern, Mr. Chun. But I assure you, everything we discuss here stays between us. I'm not interested in causing trouble for you or anyone else in here. My sole focus is on helping Lee and uncovering the truth."

Chun remains silent, his eyes studying intently.

I continue, my voice earnest. "Look, I promise you that I will only use this information to help solve Lee's case. Understanding the current smuggling operations might give us insight into how Lee's network operated and who might be pulling the strings now."

After a long mont, Chun sighs heavily. "You're asking to put a lot of trust in you, Detective."

I nod. "I know. And I don't take that lightly."

Chun rubs his face with his large hands, then seems to co to a decision. "Alright. But if this cos back to bite , I'll make sure you regret it. Understood?"

"Perfectly," I reply, bracing myself for what he's about to reveal.

Chun leans in, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's not like it was with Lee. He was... special. Since he left, things have been tougher. But yeah, we still get stuff in."

"How?" I ask, careful to keep my tone neutral.

Chun's eyes dart around the room before settling back on . "Main channel these days? Religious folks."

My eyebrows raise in surprise. "Religious people? How does that work?"

"Think about it," Chun says. "Who gets to co in and out of prisons without much scrutiny? Priests, pastors, imams. They're trusted. Guards don't want to search them too closely."

I nod, understanding dawning. "So they smuggle things in for you?"

Chun shakes his head. "Not exactly. Most of them don't know they're doing it. We have... let's call them 'helpers' on the outside. They plant stuff in donation boxes, hide things in holy books.

The religious folks bring them in, thinking they're just delivering donations or literature."

"And the guards don't check these items?" I ask.

"They do, but not as thoroughly as they should. And our helpers are clever. They find ways to hide stuff that won't show up in a cursory search."

I lean back, processing this information. "But you said it's not as good as it was with Lee. What's different?"

Chun's face takes on a wistful expression. "Lee... he could get anything. And I an anything. Stuff that shouldn't have been possible to smuggle in. With these new thods, we're limited.

Smaller items, nothing too fancy. It's better than nothing, but it's not the sa."

"Mr. Chun," I say carefully, "do you have any idea who's organizing all this from the outside? Who these 'helpers' might be working for?"

Chun shakes his head. "That's above my pay grade, Detective. I just know it gets done. But whoever it is, they've got connections. The kind of connections that can make guards look the other way sotis, if you catch my drift."

I nod, feeling the weight of this new information.

As I'm about to ask Chun another question, there's a sharp knock at the door. Officer Yoon pokes his head in, an apologetic expression on his face.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Detective, but your ti is up. We need to wrap this up now."

I nod, trying to hide my disappointnt. "Of course, I understand. Thank you, Officer Yoon."

Turning back to Chun, I extend my hand. "Mr. Chun, thank you for your ti and your candor. I appreciate your help."

Chun stands, his imposing figure filling the small room. He takes my hand, his grip firm. "Rember your promise, Detective. Help Lee if you can. And... be careful.

You're digging into sothing big here."

I nod solemnly. "I will. Thank you again."

As Chun is led out, I take a mont to collect my thoughts. The information he's provided is invaluable, but it's also opened up a whole new set of questions.

I make my way to Tak's office, knocking lightly on the open door. Tak looks up from his desk, a questioning look on his face.

"Ah, Detective. All finished?"

I step into the office. "Yes, thank you again for arranging this. It was extrely helpful."

Tak leans back in his chair. "Glad to hear it. Everything go well? Chun can be... intimidating."

I nod, forcing a smile. "It went fine. He was actually quite cooperative."

As I speak, my eyes instinctively scan the office, a habit born from years of detective work. Suddenly, sothing catches my eye. On Tak's desk is a calendar, and in the corner, barely visible, is a familiar na imprinted in small letters.

My heart skips a beat. It's the na of the church where Choi grew up, the sa church I visited earlier. The sa church that seed to want to distance itself from Choi's past.

I try to keep my voice steady as I continue talking to Tak, but my mind is racing. What are the odds of this connection? Is it just a coincidence, or is there sothing more to it?

"Detective? Are you alright?" Tak's voice breaks through my thoughts.

"Actually, Tak," I say, "I couldn't help but notice the calendar on your desk. That church... do you attend there?"

Tak glances at the calendar, then back at , a slightly puzzled expression on his face. "? No, I don't personally go there. Why do you ask?"

I shrug, trying to appear casual. "Just curious. I've heard of it before."

Tak nods, his expression clearing. "Ah, well, they're actually one of our biggest supporters here at the prison. Have been for years."

This catches off guard. "Really? In what way?"

"Oh, in just about every way you can imagine," Tak explains, leaning back in his chair. "They send volunteers regularly - for counseling, religious services, that sort of thing. But they also provide resources. Books, educational materials, even so funding for our rehabilitation programs."

I struggle to keep my expression neutral as this new information sinks in. "That's... quite generous of them. How long has this been going on?"

Tak thinks for a mont. "Must be... well, as long as I've been here. At least fifteen years, probably longer."

My mind is racing, trying to connect the dots. The church where Choi grew up, now deeply involved with the prison where Lee was incarcerated. The sa prison where Lee had seemingly impossible connections and smuggling abilities.

"That's fascinating," I manage to say, hoping my voice doesn't betray my excitent. "It's always good to hear about organizations giving back to the community like that."

Tak nods, smiling. "It really is. We're lucky to have their support."

As I finally leave Tak's office, my head is spinning with the implications of this new information. The church, Choi, Lee, the prison - they're all interconnected in ways I'm only beginning to understand.

I thank Tak one last ti, shaking his hand firmly. "I really appreciate all your help, Tak. You've given a lot to think about."

Tak nods, smiling. "Glad I could help, Detective. Good luck with your case."

As soon as I'm out of the prison gates, I practically sprint to my car.

Once inside, I don't even bother to start the engine. Instead, I pull out my phone and quickly dial a familiar number. After two rings, a voice answers.

"Officer Jo speaking."

"Jo, it's ," I say, trying to keep my voice steady despite my excitent. "I need you to do sothing for , and it's urgent."

"Of course, what do you need?" Jo's voice is alert, sensing the urgency in my tone.

"I need you to look up the registration information for a church. The na is..." I give her the details of the church where Choi grew up, the sa one supporting the prison.

"I need everything you can find. Who founded it, who runs it now, any significant donations or financial transactions. Anything that seems out of the ordinary."

"Got it," Jo replies. "How soon do you need this?"

"As soon as possible. I'm heading back to the station now. Have whatever you find on my desk when I get there."

"Will do. Be careful on the drive back."

And then I dial Han's number, but after several rings, it goes to voicemail.

I hang up, feeling a twinge of frustration. Han's guidance would be invaluable right now, but I'll have to move forward on my own for the mont.

Seeking a distraction from my racing thoughts, I switch on the radio. Almost imdiately, I wish I hadn't.

"...and in the ongoing trial of Lee Chunsik, legal experts are predicting a life sentence," the newscaster's voice fills the car. "Given the severity and number of his confessed cris, many are calling for the harshest possible punishnt..."

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. The radio continues, detailing the public's outrage, the calls for justice, the seeming inevitability of Lee's fate.

A sense of urgency washes over . If there's more to this story, if Lee is indeed being set up as I suspect, I'm running out of ti to prove it. Once he's sentenced, it will be infinitely harder to reopen the case or challenge the verdict.

"I need to hurry," I mutter to myself, pressing down on the accelerator. The pieces are there - the church, the prison, Choi, Lee - I just need to connect them. And I need to do it fast.