The drive to the So family home passed in tense silence. Lao Han drove with detached precision, his thoughts seeming far away. Xin Shi feverishly reread the preliminary reports.
"Lao Han," she broke the silence. "In So Ho's file, there's a note: he transferred to Yoshido School at the beginning of this academic year. Before that, he studied in another district. Why did he transfer?"
"Possibly because of basketball," Lao Han answered without looking at her. "Although… Yoshido School isn't famous for its sports program at all. Or… maybe there were problems at his old place. In any case, we need to ask about that."
They arrived at a modern middle-class residential complex. The air in the elevator was stale, and the corridor on the needed floor held a heavy, almost tangible silence of grief. Xin Shi knocked twice.
Knock. Knock.
The door was opened by a woman, her face swollen from tears, her eyes huge and lost.
"Mrs. So? Police. Inspector Xin Shi and Detective Lao Han." Unlike Lao Han, she showed her badge. "We're here about your children."
The woman silently stepped back, letting them inside. The living room was cozy, but now the setting seemed like a mockery. On the sofa sat a man, hunched over, staring into emptiness. He didn't even turn his head.
"We… we don't know anything," Mrs. So began, her voice trembling. "They just… didn't come back."
"Tell us about the day before yesterday," Xin Shi asked softly but insistently, seating the woman. "In all details. Where did they go? What were their plans?"
"They… they went to the court by the lake in 'Sonnám' Park," the mother said, clenching and unclenching her hands. "Ho wanted to practice his shots. Yeon went with him, even though she had her own things to do… She always supported him."
"Did So Ho say anything lately?" asked Lao Han, not approaching, standing by a bookshelf and studying photographs. "About school? About the team? Maybe about conflicts? About the coach?"
The father on the sofa suddenly spoke without changing his posture.
"He… he hasn't been himself these past few weeks. Quiet, angry. But not angry at us… just… inside."
Lao Han slowly turned to him.
"Angry? About what? At whom?"
"Didn't say directly," the father muttered. "Mumbled something about 'unfair play.' About how 'some people ruin everything.' Once I heard him arguing on the phone… saying something like: 'I can't just stay silent, I saw it!' And then: 'He's dangerous, you're all just scared!'"
"Who is 'he'?" Xin Shi asked quickly. "Who did he mean? A classmate? The coach?"
"I don't know!" the father's voice broke into a desperate whisper. "He hung up and didn't speak about it again. He only said… he said it concerned basketball. That there was something rotten in the team."
"In the Yoshido School team?" Lao Han clarified.
"Yes," the father nodded. "He talked about the team. About how the coach… Chang Wo, I think… that he knew something but wasn't doing anything. Or couldn't do it."
Lao Han and Xin Shi exchanged a glance.
"And about the coach, did he say anything? Good, bad?" asked Lao Han.
"At first he respected him," the mother sniffled. "Said he was strict but fair. And then… it was like he became disappointed. He said once: 'He's part of the system too.' What that means — I don't know."
"What about other players?" Xin Shi pressed on. "Did he have conflicts with anyone? Maybe someone he particularly disliked?"
The parents looked at each other, shaking their heads helplessly.
"He didn't bring friends from the team home," the mother said. "He said the atmosphere there… was heavy. That not everyone was playing the same game."
Lao Han walked over to a side table where a tablet lay. The screen showed an open social network page. Without asking, he scrolled through a few pages. Photos from practice, from matches. Group photos of the Yoshido team. His gaze lingered on one picture: So Ho was standing slightly apart from the general cheerful pile of guys, his expression tense, his gaze directed somewhere off-camera. Next to him were several other faces with similarly wary expressions.
"Xin Shi, look," he called her over. "See? This isn't the face of a happy team member. This is the face of someone who sees something and is afraid."
He set the tablet down.
"Mrs. So, Mr. So. One more question. Does the name Hee Rak sound familiar? A student from 'Songhwa' College?"
The parents seemed to tense, searching their memories.
"No… I don't think so," the mother said. "Ho never mentioned such a name."
Lao Han nodded as if this was expected. He handed Mrs. So his card.
"If you remember anything else, anything at all, even the smallest detail, call. Every detail is important now."
They stepped out into the corridor. The elevator descended under a heavy silence.
"So," Xin Shi said when they got in the car. "We have So Ho, dissatisfied with the atmosphere in the Yoshido team, seeing something 'rotten.' Possibly in conflict with someone. And his coach, Chang Wo, who, in So Ho's opinion, was 'part of the system' and wasn't changing anything. Now both are missing. That's no longer a coincidence."
"That's a motive," Lao Han corrected her, starting the engine. "Or part of a motive. Someone could have eliminated So Ho because he saw too much and was going to talk. And the coach — because he either knew or should have known and didn't take action. Or… because he was the target from the very beginning, and So Ho was just an obstacle in the way."
"What about Hee Rak?" asked Xin Shi. "Where is his place in this story?"
"For now — nowhere," Lao Han answered honestly. "And that worries me the most. Either we're wrong and his case isn't connected at all, or the connection is so deep or well-hidden that we can't see it. Maybe he witnessed something similar at his own college. Or…" he turned sharply onto another street, "or our target isn't a person, but a method. A way of making people disappear. And someone is applying it in different places."
They drove up to a more respectable house where Chang Wo's sister lived. The air here was permeated not only with grief but also with bewilderment: how could an entire, prosperous family disappear in broad daylight?
The relatives were in shock. They could only say good things about Chang Wo: devoted to his work, loving his family, a strict but honest coach. No enemies, no debts, no scandals.
"Conflicts?" Chang Wo's brother repeated, a man with a tired face. "In a coach's work, there are always conflicts. With parents who want their son to play more. With students he disciplined for violations. But nothing serious! Nothing that could lead to… this!"
"Recently?" Lao Han insisted. "Maybe he mentioned someone in particular? A student who caused more trouble? Maybe someone was suspended from the team?"
The brother thought.
"There was… one. A few days ago. I don't remember the name, but Chang Wo said he had to suspend a guy for unsportsmanlike conduct, for aggression on the court. Said there was 'something wrong with him,' that he was ruining the team. But that's normal in sports!"
"A name," Xin Shi asked softly but inexorably. "Try to remember. It could be critically important."
"I… don't remember, honestly. Some common name… Kim Yoon? I can't recall. Chang Wo didn't dwell on it. Said he'd dealt with the problem."
Lao Han and Xin Shi exchanged a glance.
"Do you have access to his work records? Team rosters?" asked Lao Han.
"I think in his office at the school… but you can't get in there now without the principal's permission."
"We'll get it," Xin Shi said confidently. "For now… a list of everyone he coached in recent years. Not just the school team. Maybe private groups, summer camps."
The relatives promised to help. As they were leaving, Lao Han was deep in thought.
"A suspended student," he muttered, getting behind the wheel. "A classic revenge motive. But revenge against a coach is one thing. What does So Ho have to do with it? And especially Hee Rak from another college?"
"Maybe this suspended student is taking revenge not only on the coach but on the whole team?" suggested Xin Shi. "Or on those he thinks are responsible for his suspension? So Ho could have been on his side… or against him."
"Possibly," Lao Han agreed. "But then it would have to be someone with the access, the resources to abduct people so cleanly. A teenager? Unlikely. And again — Hee Rak doesn't fit."
He hit the steering wheel with his palm, an uncharacteristic gesture of irritation for him.
"We have pieces of three different puzzles. And we don't know if they form one picture. Yoshido School — that's our only anchor. So Ho and Chang Wo. Everything revolves around that place. We need to go there. Need to talk to the administration, the security, the other players. Find out everything about this suspended student. And find out if Hee Rak could have intersected in any way with the world of Yoshido School. Without that, we're wandering in the fog."
He pulled away, and the car sped off toward Yoshido School, the last known place where the fates of two of the missing had intersected.