The Unsolved Puzzle

Chapter One: The Unsolved Puzzle

A young girl, newly joined as a detective, arrives at the station. But no one has any work or cases for her to handle — everyone is busy with their own investigations. With no choice left, she searches across the web. She finds a few cases that were recently solved, but decides instead to look into the old ones.

That’s when she discovers a forgotten file: the suicide of a 15‑year‑old boy. The reason behind his death was never uncovered. Since it was “just a suicide,” the case was abandoned. But she doesn’t care whether a case is big or small — she only wants to prove herself and uncover the truth.

What she doesn’t realize is that the cases keeping other detectives busy are all connected to this old suicide. This is not only a story about death, but about survival, hidden lives, and discovering the whole truth. And through her journey, she will lose her loved ones…

The station was alive with the hum of activity — phones ringing, papers shuffling, footsteps echoing down the corridor. Detectives leaned over their desks, voices low and urgent as they discussed their cases. In the middle of this chaos sat Kang Ri‑eul, the newest recruit. Her desk was bare, the surface polished and empty, as though mocking her lack of responsibility. She folded her hands, trying not to look restless, but the silence around her felt heavier with each passing minute.

Just then, a man walked past, his arms full of files. He was tall, with sharp features softened by a warm smile. His presence carried authority, yet there was something approachable in the way he moved. He paused when he noticed her, tilting his head slightly.

“Oh, you must be new here,” he said, his voice calm but commanding. “Your name… Kang Ri‑eul, isn’t it? Welcome.”

Ri‑eul straightened in her chair, surprised that someone had finally acknowledged her. “Yes, sir. That’s me.”

He shifted the files in his arms, balancing them with practiced ease. “Everyone is busy handling their own cases right now, so unfortunately I don’t have anything significant to assign you. But,” he added, pulling one file from the stack, “you can help by distributing these.”

Ri‑eul smiled politely, grateful for even the smallest task. “Of course. I’ll do it. Who should I start with?”

The man opened the top file and pointed to the name written neatly in the corner. “Jung On‑yul. He’s seated over there. You can ask him for guidance if you need it.”

Ri‑eul followed his gesture. Across the room sat a young man, perhaps twenty‑five or twenty‑seven, his posture relaxed yet focused. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and his sharp jawline caught the light as he leaned over his desk. There was something effortlessly handsome about him, though his eyes were fixed on the papers in front of him, oblivious to her gaze.

Ri‑eul studied him for a moment longer than she intended, then quickly nodded. “Alright. I’ll take care of it. By the way… may I know your name?”

The man smiled again, this time with a hint of pride. “Choi Bit‑gyeol. Head of this department.”

The title carried weight, and Ri‑eul felt a flicker of nervousness. She had just spoken casually to the department head, yet his demeanor was so approachable that it eased her tension. She bowed her head slightly. “It’s an honor, sir.”

Bit‑gyeol chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. You’ll find your place here soon enough.” With that, he moved on, his files balanced effortlessly as he disappeared into the maze of desks.

Ri‑eul turned her attention back to the file in her hands. The name Jung On‑yul stared back at her in bold letters. She rose from her chair, clutching the folder tightly, and walked across the room. Each step felt heavier, as though she were crossing into unfamiliar territory.

When she reached his desk, On‑yul looked up, his eyes sharp yet calm. “You must be the new detective,” he said, his tone neutral.

“Yes. Kang Ri‑eul,” she replied, offering the file. “Head Choi asked me to give this to you.”

On‑yul accepted the folder, flipping it open with practiced ease. His eyes scanned the pages quickly, his brow furrowing slightly. ''hmm...''On‑yul gave a faint smile as he looked at her. “Thanks. If you ever need help, you can count on me.”

Ri‑eul returned the smile, her voice steady. “No problem. For now, I should assist Head Choi. I’ll see you later.”

She glanced around the room. Everyone was buried in their work, papers scattered, phones ringing, but Head Choi was nowhere in sight. She thought for a moment — perhaps he had gone back to his office. Gathering her courage, she walked down the corridor and stopped at the door.

Knock. Knock.

“May I come in?” she asked softly.

A muffled voice answered from inside. “Come in.”

Ri‑eul opened the door and stepped into the office. Head Choi sat at his desk, surrounded by stacks of files. He looked up as she entered.

“Head Choi,” she said, holding out a few old folders she had picked up along the way. “I’ve delivered the files to that detective, Jung On‑yul. But… I want to know the reason behind this suicide case. Can I handle it? Can I try to uncover the truth?”

Choi’s brows lifted in surprise. He hadn’t expected her to stumble upon that file. Perhaps she had picked it up by accident while distributing the folders. Still, her determination was clear.

He nodded slowly. “Sure, if you want. It’s just a suicide, but there’s no harm in finding the reason. To help you, I’ll assign On‑yul to work with you.”

He reached for the phone, dialed quickly, and spoke in a firm tone. “On‑yul, there’s an old suicide case. I’ve given it to our new detective. You’ll assist her.”

Moments later, Jung On‑yul appeared at the doorway, his expression unreadable. The case had begun.