Justice or Peace

The air in the old library hung heavy with the dust of forgotten years, a scent that clung to Chio Heesung’s pink hair like a persistent whisper. Ms. Kim, her fingers tracing the brittle edges of a newspaper clipping, offered a small, knowing smile. "You've been asking a lot of questions, Mr. Heesung. More than most who come here looking for old town records."

Heesung shifted, the worn leather of the armchair creaking beneath him. He’d spent days poring over the archives, piecing together fragments of a tragedy that had unfolded in this quiet corner of the world decades before he was even born. The story of Min, the spectral murderer, was no longer a mere plot point for his upcoming role; it had become an obsession, a tangled knot in his own heart. "It's a fascinating story, Ms. Kim. A life cut short, a reputation tarnished."

"Tragic, certainly," she agreed, her voice soft. "But the papers… they paint a very clear picture. A violent crime. A confession. A swift end."