Moorim had fallen asleep. It was already morning but he hadnít allowed himself to go home and get some rest. He had started digging into the DreamFight case about a month ago and nothing quite fit the story. There were so many things that just didnít make sense and everything was really messy. It frustrated him so much. He knew that his father was fired from DreamFight after working there for more than 15 years and that he felt really wronged. Moorim didnít have a lot of memories with his parents before they died but one thing he knew was that his father wasnít fired rightfully. He had successfully been able to file a new witness report from none other than Yuna as she had told him she had been abused by the CEO of DreamFight after not agreeing to give him medication he wanted but didnít need. She originally didnít want to take any legal action since she didnít care about the issue. She claimed to be stronger than that and it hadnít been the first time she had received a beating. She finally decided to help Moorim out. Yuna seemed to be a lot different from the time they met at the gas station. She seemed a lot stronger and more independent, like she didnít give a shit about the world and was just trying to live her life.
He had talked a bit more with Duyi too. He was curious as to how much he could tell about a person by just looking them in the eyes. He had told that it depends on how many secrets they have. There had only ever been one person he had not been able to read, but Duyi didnít want to say more about that. He still had to figure that one out himself.
Duyi told him that it was a good thing he had decided to fake his memory loss. It apparently saved him more than Moorim had originally thought. Because everyone around him thought he couldnít remember anything, no one had a reason to get rid of him. He survived but he wasnít supposed to. If he had remembered who stabbed him, saved him or left him, those people would be in a lot of trouble.
Duyi had also been able to see a glimpse of his parents. he didnít specify what but with a smile he had said that it was a happy memory somewhere hidden deep in Moorimís brain and with time it would show to Moorim.
Moorim still kind of saw Duyi as a madman. Not just because of his ability to read people after eye contact, but just his manners and his personality set of a trigger of caution somewhere in Moorim. He had the habit of laughing a bit too loud at his own jokes and he just did things that were really weird. He often just started randomly singing a song or dancing without any music playing. Moorim had the idea like he just had headphones in at all times. There was also a determination in his eyes that warned Moorim. It was a look of ďdonít fuck with meĒ. It was like he was purposely acting insane so people wouldnít want to deal with him anyways.
ĎWake up, sleepy head.í
Moorim shocked up but he didnít find himself at his desk at the police station. His vision was blurry, he wasnít able to see further than a few feet away from him. He wasnít able to move, as he was tied down to a chair with thick ropes and duck-tape. The floor was a weird green colour and there was a dark red puddle underneath his chair. It was awfully cold and Moorim didnít have any sense in either his fingers and toes.
Moorim wasnít able to think straight. His head was spinning and he couldnít focus on anything. A strong smell of chlorine penetrated his nose. He didnít know where he was. Was this perhaps a dream?
Moorim felt something cold against the side of his head. He didnít have the energy to raise his head and see what it was, nor did he really want to find out.
ĎIt saddens me to have to do this to you. I used to like you a lot, you know. It was fun to see you and Jackson bond so well. Unfortunately you are a threat to my business that I worked so long on to build up to something so successful. Donít worry about your little friend. She has probably already met her demise.í
Moorim recognized the voice. It was a raspy, low voice that belonged to none other than Jacksonís father or the CEO of DreamFight.
ĎOh, thatís right, you donít remember me, do you?í The man laughed.
Moorim tried to raise his head and speak but he just didnít have the strength to do so. His whole body was lame. Maybe it was because of the fear or maybe it was something that they had injected into his bloodstream.
ĎYouíre lucky, though.í
Moorim felt the cold object against his head move away.
Ďyouíve tried so hard to dig up dirt on me that I think it would be a change if you go out this way. Thatís why Iíll give you another chance. If you stop working on the case I will let you just live your life. Of course, it will never be that easy. You must never remember me or your time will probably be over a lot sooner than you thought.í
Moorim felt a hard pound against his head and slowly everything turned black. He could barely distinguish a pair of shiny black shoes walking away from him and the red puddle underneath his chair enlarge. Someone kicked his chair and Moorim was left on the ground in his own despair.

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