"Hey, don't mind her," another beautiful female teacher with brown hair approached .
She had wavy hair and small black eyes. She wasn't as attractive as the previous teacher, but she definitely appeared much kinder – the type of teacher who must be popular among male students.
"Is she really that rude all the ti?" I asked, eager to learn more about that stuck-up woman. She left a mark on , you know? I guess it's because she sort of reminded of my aunt back in the day. But thinking about her...well, it's like my excitent level just hit the turbo button!
"Ah, well, here's the juicy scoop: she's dating the son of the school's owner, so it's probably best to steer clear of her," she whispered, leaning in so close I could practically hear her heartbeat. Her chest brushed against my arms as she attempted to whisper in my ear, making it feel like I was receiving classified information.
'Hey, hey, you're too close, 'I muttered to myself, realizing I could even sll her neck from this distance. But it was too late; my "Destroyer" had already awakened. Fortunately, I had anticipated this, so I subtly adjusted my shoulder bag to avoid any awkwardness.
As I adjusted my shoulder bag, she took a step back, sensing my discomfort.
"I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that," she giggled and brushed aside what had just happened.
I know this type of girls. These are the Overly Friendly girls - they'll shoot friendship arrows at everyone, hug with enthusiasm, and feign interest in almost anyone, even when there's not a hint of romance.
Picture this: a poor soul, let's call him Bob, encounters one of these vivacious vixens. She's all smiles, engages in heartfelt conversations, and might even share secrets over coffee. To Bob, it feels like he's in a rom-com montage, with quirky background music and slow-motion hugs. Naturally, he starts catching feelings.
Bob musters up the courage to confess his attraction, thinking he's onto sothing special. But then, with a chuckle that could rival Santa's, she responds, "Oh, you're such a great friend!" Cue sad trombone. Bob, in an instant, goes from the hero of his love story to the guy holding the "FRIENDZONED" sign.
In a twisted way, this types of won mastered the art of "Leading"
She continued in a hushed tone, "You see, dating the school owner's son has its perks, but it also cos with its own set of rules. She's practically untouchable in the school's social hierarchy."
I didn't even need my expert deduction skills to figure it out. This woman was a gossip queen, and that was a glaring red flag. Sure, call a perverted guy, but I've got my own set of standards. I firmly believe in one rule: never put your dick in CRAZY.
"Thanks for the insider scoop," I said with a sly grin. "But, uh, duty calls, you know? I've got to dash and grab my schedule." I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to seem casual, but deep down, I couldn't believe it myself. I was actually making a quick escape from a woman, of all things! Who would have thought that gossip queens can be this scary.
"Hey, I can help you with that," she insisted..
"No need...no need, I've got this," I waved my hands dismissively, refusing her offer with exaggerated flair.
She was persistent, like a friendly bulldozer. "I really want to help you," she insisted, leaning in closer.
"I can do it myself," I repeated, putting up my most valiant defense.
[Suggestion: Success ]
I couldn't believe it – this woman pushed to use my skill.
"Alright," she finally relented, sensing my resolve, and turned away.
"Hey, co over here and get your schedule," the previously rude woman called out to . I couldn't help but tip my imaginary hat to Old Sing. Those docunts he provided must be more convincing than the real deal for things to be going this smoothly.
"Thank you , Ma'am " I spoke as I grab the schedule from her hands.
She didn't dignify with a response; instead, she rolled her eyes and then walked away. I couldn't help but marvel at the spectacle.
"WOW," I muttered to myself, shaking my head in amazent. "What a piece of work that woman is."
—
—
Gangnam
Mystery Person POV
'This is certainly not an accident,' I muttered to myself as I examined the lifeless body of a naked woman in her own apartnt. Whoever did this was a complete psycho.
"Miss Kanon, is this a suicide?" a middle-aged man in a brown coat approached , calling by my na. He was Detective Miguro, my partner.
"I'm still not done investigating ," I replied.
I closed my eyes and activated my unique gift, "Deduction." It was an innate ability of mine that allowed to reconstruct past events using available evidence. Of course, it wasn't foolproof, especially when evidence was lost, like in the case of a fire.
In my mind, variables began to coalesce, forming a scene. I could see it vaguely now.
The killer had entered the room, and she had let him in, indicating that she knew him. The altercation didn't start imdiately; they walked together into the living room and had so drinks. The table was pristine, showing no signs of a struggle. I could also tell that the killer hadn't inflicted physical harm on her. Why then did she hang herself after he left ?
Then, like a sudden bolt of lightning, a mory surged into my mind. I rembered a case like this 8 years ago.
Could this be the sa criminal?
"The Whisperer," I muttered to myself, my lips trembling with anger. I had been quite young when I first delved into the chilling details about this notorious serial killer. So people believed he was just a myth, but with my intelligence, I knew he had indeed existed.
The Whisperer was no ordinary murderer. He possessed the terrifying ability to kill with re words, using so dark and mysterious form of psychological manipulation.
'So you're finally back. This ti, you will pay for your sins!' I muttered through clenched teeth, my anger boiling within . He had taken sothing precious from , and I was determined to make him pay for it.
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