The villa room was filled with the heavy stench of blood.
Mr. Kim stood by the bed, looking down at the cold corpse lying on it.
The double bore a seventy percent resemblance to him. His face was now pale as paper, and the gunshot wound in his chest had stopped bleeding.
He simply stood there and looked.
There was no furious roar, no hysterical questioning. He only looked.
That silence was more terrifying than any roar.
Everyone in the room lowered their heads slightly, not daring to let Mr. Kim see their faces.
The air seemed to have frozen, and even breathing became cautious.
After a long while.
Mr. Kim finally spoke, his voice hoarse and low:
"Find out who did it."
His voice was not loud, yet it sent a chill down everyone's spine.
"Yes!"
An agent practically ran from the room.
Several dozen minutes later, the agent hurried back in, holding a sealed plastic bag in both hands. Inside was a shell casing.
With his head lowered, he spoke steadily, though there was a slight tremor in his voice:
"Mr. Kim, we found it."
Mr. Kim turned to look at him.
The agent continued:
"This is the shell casing recovered from the scene. It's from a standard K5 Pistol round. It is... it is standard-issue equipment from the South."
The atmosphere in the room froze again. Mr. Kim turned his head toward him.
The agent swallowed and paused.
"The surveillance footage showed no signs of anyone infiltrating. Our preliminary judgment is that it was done by a traitor who had been lying low for a long time.
After accounting for everyone, we found that a kitchen staff member was missing. He should be the one who did it."
Mr. Kim's gaze fell on the shell casing.
Silence.