Forensics later confirmed it — the blood belonged to Park Joon-ho.
That meant only one thing.
He was already hurt before the fire started.
Someone had dragged him into the house, set the scene, and made it look like an accident.
A staged homicide.
Someone wanted the world to believe Park had died quietly, burned in his own home — but to Choi, it was a cover-up.
And not a careful one.
He could still remember standing outside that night.
He'd looked at the house and felt it deep in his gut — this wasn't an accident.
Someone had silenced a man who got too close to the truth.
Still, the case was sealed fast.
The report was filed, Park's death was ruled accidental, and within a week the file was closed by Choi's senior partner.
Choi never believed it.
He'd tried to argue back then — pointed out the inward glass, the blood trail, the inconsistencies in the burn pattern.
But his senior just gave him that tired look, the kind that said you're still too young to understand.
"Drop it, rookie," the man had said flatly, lighting a cigarette right there in front of Choi's face.
"Some fires are better left burned."
But Choi didn't hear the words of his senior partner. He couldn't — not when he could see the truth and the lies tangled behind Park's death.
To Choi, it was clear as daylight. Someone had killed Park Joon-ho, and the whole system had buried it under the word accident.
He kept digging after that — quiet, careful, when no one was watching.
He followed the money, traced fake charity funds, hidden accounts, and shell companies tied to Kang Dae-hyun's conglomerate.
Every lead pointed the same way — straight up, to people with power.
But one morning, everything vanished.
The files. The photos. Every evidence.
When he opened the evidence locker, the shelves were empty.
He remembered standing there, staring the empty locker, his badge feeling heavier than ever.
That was the day he understood — the system hadn't just failed Park Joon-ho.
It had killed him twice.
And now, fifteen years later, that same name — Park Joon-ho — was staring back at him from the top of a murder case file.
Choi's throat went dry. He could hear his own heartbeat, dull and heavy in his ears.
His fingers tightened around the file until the paper bent.
It didn't make sense. None of it did.
If this was real… if Park Joon-ho was truly alive…
He gulped. Couldn't believe what he was seeing in front of his eyes. His mind couldn't believe, how it was possible?
If this was real… if Park Joon-ho was alive… then the dead were walking again.
"But DNA doesn't lie," Choi muttered under his breath. His eyes glinted.
The Chief finally exhaled, rubbing his temple.
"Get Forensics to recheck that report," he said, voice low but tight. "If this thing's a mistake, I want it fixed now!"
The forensic expert stuttered, shaking his head fast.
"Sir— we already ran it ten times!" he said, his voice trembling. "Same result every time! That's why it took so long to confirm…"
The Chief snatched the file back from Choi's hands and waved it high for everyone to see. Papers shook in his grip as he shoved it toward the other officers.
SLAM!
His palm hit the table hard. "What the hell are you all doing?! Just standing here?! MOVE!"
"Find this man — Park Joon-ho, whoever the hell he is! I don't care how, just find him!"
He paused, his voice dropping lower now, the anger giving way to disbelief.
"That man's supposed to be dead. Fifteen years ago, burned to ashes in his own damn house… so how the hell is his DNA showing up now?"
The Chief stood still for a second, his face pale and drawn.
He didn't know what to believe anymore.
Was Park Joon-ho really dead? Or had someone twisted the truth fifteen years ago?
It didn't matter now. The pressure from above was already crushing him.
If they didn't catch someone soon, his head would roll next.
He gritted his teeth, muttering under his breath,
"Fine. Go chase the ghost, then."
No one actually knew what to do.
The Chief had just told them to find a ghost, and the words were still spinning in their heads.
Everyone looked at each other, faces blank, unsure.
What do you even do when the man you're supposed to catch has been dead for fifteen years?
But nobody wanted to stand there either.
Officers sitting on their chairs closed their files and stood up, one after another, heading straight for the door. Everyone wanted the same thing — to get out of the Chief's sight.
The first to move was Kim.
He didn't even look back, just rushed past the glass door like the room was on fire.
"Huff… huff…" Kim wiped the sweat from his forehead, his heart still pounding.
From inside the room, a few detectives peeked through the glass door, watching Kim bend over catching his breath.
One of them snorted. "Look at him… Chief's favorite dog got out first."
Another chuckled under his breath. "Yeah, if running away was a promotion test, he'd be the next Commissioner."
"Shut up," someone whispered, half laughing. "If the Chief hears you, you'll be the next one running."
The Chief was still shouting, but Choi had already started thinking.
You can't find a man like this by chasing air.
You need to think how a man lives.
He stepped closer to the group of officers near the exit, his voice low but clear.
"Listen. Start with his aunt and uncle. They were the only family he had. If he's alive, he might've gone to them first — or at least checked if they were still around."
He turned to another officer. "He needs food. Go through supermarkets, convenience stores, anywhere someone could buy daily stuff. Check the cameras for a middle-aged man who shops alone, pays in cash."
Another officer was already grabbing his coat, but Choi pointed at him next.
"Clothes, laundries, small shops, even secondhand places. If he's living quietly, he'll buy cheap and change fast."
Then he paused, thinking. "And check motels or short-term rentals. If a man's living like he's dead, he won't stay in one place for long. Look for someone who pays cash and keeps moving every few days."
He said all that while the others were still catching their breath.
Calm voice, clear words — like he was giving a lesson instead of chasing a ghost.
"Don't waste time looking for where he was," Choi added. "Think about what he needs to keep living. Even ghosts need a roof, food, and air."
He looked around once more, meeting every pair of eyes in the room.
"Pass this order to everyone," he said. "Broadcast it to every unit. Now move."