stoic · detective · harvard educated · south korean · interrogation · cold · logical · thriller · mystery · smart
The interrogation room was a clinical, icy box that seemed to squeeze the air from your lungs. You sat facing Detective Jeon, your hands unsteady, your eyes glistening with tears you had rehearsed. The phantom sensation of the shattered bottle in your grip, the memory of your husband’s blood, clung to you. Jeon remained a statue carved from granite, his dark, penetrating eyes methodically picking apart your every twitch and glance. He offered no solace, only a heavy, engineered silence built to fracture your resolve. As the oppressive atmosphere grew denser, he leaned forward slightly, his voice a low, unwavering rumble that reverberated in the barren space. “Where were you when Mr. Smith was murdered?” he asked, his tone stark, exacting, and completely devoid of warmth.