Deadly Games

New beginnings

*Tony Lee’s POV*

I ran through the crowd, my breath sharp and uneven, pushing past bodies that barely registered in my way.

Vin and Sammy were right behind me, calling my name, but their voices felt distant—like they were underwater.

Something was wrong.

The street was chaos.

Flashing blue and red lights painted the scene in violent color. Police cars blocked half the road. People stood frozen behind barricades, whispering in disbelief, their faces pale with shock.

A detective had been killed.

The words hit me like a physical blow the moment I heard them.

And then I ran.

I don’t even remember pushing through the crowd—I just did it. Faster. Harder. Like if I moved quickly enough, I could stop whatever had already happened.

My heart was pounding so violently it felt like it might break through my chest.

Then I stopped.

Dead.

My feet refused to move.

My eyes locked onto the scene ahead.

A body lay on the ground.

For a moment, everything around me blurred—noise, people, sirens—until it all faded into nothing.

Just him.

Just the body.

A pressure tightened in my chest, crushing the air out of my lungs. I couldn’t breathe properly. I couldn’t think.

It felt like something inside me was falling apart piece by piece.

Then—

A scream cut through the air behind me.

“NO—!”

Sammy.

But I couldn’t turn.

I couldn’t move.

I walked forward instead, slowly, like my body no longer belonged to me. Each step heavier than the last, until I was standing right in front of him.

My father.

The world stopped.

No sound. No movement. No air.

Just him.

I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands trembling as they reached out before I could stop myself.

I touched his face.

Cold.

Too cold.

“No…” My voice broke. “No, no, no…”

My fingers shook against his skin as if that alone could bring him back. As if denial was enough to undo reality.

Why?

Just why?

Something inside me cracked completely.

“FATHER!!!” I screamed.

The sound tore out of my throat like it didn’t belong to me.

It wasn’t just pain.

It was collapse.

Behind me, I heard shouting—orders, footsteps, voices—but none of it made sense anymore.

Hands grabbed me.

Someone pulled me back.

I fought against them without thinking, my mind refusing to accept what my eyes had already seen.

“Officer Lee—can you hear me?”

A voice tried to reach me.

But I couldn’t hear anything clearly.

Not anymore.

All I could hear—

Was silence.

And the image of my father lying still on the ground, as if the world had simply decided he no longer mattered.

`*Three Days Later,`

The sky was grey the morning we buried him.

Not bright, not dark—just… empty.

As if even the weather didn’t know how to feel.

The funeral hall was quiet in that heavy, respectful way only grief can create. Black suits filled the room. White chrysanthemums lined the altar, their soft petals standing out against the sadness like fragile memories refusing to fade.

A framed photo of my father sat at the front.

Smiling.

Alive in a way that hurt more than his absence.

In Korean tradition, everything was done with care, with respect—slow bows, soft voices, controlled mourning. But none of it felt real to me.

Real didn’t feel like anything anymore.

The incense burned gently at the front, curling into the air like fading prayers. People came forward one by one, bowing deeply before his portrait, offering condolences in quiet voices.

“I mourn your loss…”

“He was a good man…”

“A great detective…”

I heard all of it.

None of it reached me.

“He was a great man,” Sammy said softly, holding my hand tightly.

Her voice trembled.

I looked at her—then at Vin—and finally at my mother.

Her face was pale, eyes swollen from crying she couldn’t stop. She looked like she was holding herself together only because she had no other choice.

I pulled them into a hug.

All three of them.

For a moment, we just stayed like that—four broken pieces trying to pretend they were still whole.

“It’s okay,” I said quietly. My voice didn’t sound like mine. “He’s gone… but you still have me.”

I tightened my arms slightly.

“I’ll take care of all of you.”

My mother let out a broken sound, collapsing slightly against me.

“Why did he have to leave me, Tony… why?”

Her voice shattered in the middle of the sentence.

It cut deeper than anything else that day.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Vin said gently, rubbing her back. His voice was calm, but I could hear it cracking underneath.

Sammy stepped in and hugged her from the other side.

And just like that, they all broke down together.

Soft crying turned into uncontrollable grief.

I held them tighter.

Because I didn’t know what else I could do.

That was when I saw him.

Han.

He walked in quietly, dressed in a black suit, his presence steady in a room full of collapse.

My father’s closest friend.

No—more than that.

He had always been there. Since I was born. Since I could remember. The kind of man who never needed to speak loudly to be respected.

He stopped in front of me.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

“It shall be well, son.”

His voice was calm. Controlled. Grounded.

Then he turned to my mother and siblings and bowed deeply, respectfully.

They returned the bow.

A silent exchange of grief and dignity.

“You shall be well again,” Han said softly. “Time heals all wounds… if you accept whatever comes your way.”

They nodded.

Slowly.

Like they were trying to believe him.

But I couldn’t.

Not even a little.

Because inside me, something had already changed.

Something had broken into something sharper.

Something colder.

My father wasn’t just gone.

He was taken.

And I knew it.

The person responsible was still out there—walking, breathing, existing like nothing had happened.

My fingers curled tightly at my side.

A fist forming before I even realized it.

I will find them.

Whoever did this.

And when I do…

Hell will not be enough for what I will bring down on them.

I didn’t notice when Han left.

Or when the room slowly emptied.

All I knew was that it was just us now.

My family.

Still standing.

Barely.

“Let’s go,” I said quietly.

I pulled my mother gently into my arms again, then took Sammy’s hand.

And we walked out together.

One family.

Walking forward…

Even if none of us knew how to live anymore.

`Six Months Later`

It had now been six months since my father died.

Six months of learning how to breathe without him.

Six months of trying not to fall apart in a world that expected me to keep standing.

Vin and I had been doing our absolute best in the police force. Not because it was just our job—but because we wanted to keep our father’s name alive.

To prove that his legacy didn’t die with him.

Two months ago, I was promoted to Detective Inspector.

Vin became a Detective Sergeant.

We worked together now, like we always used to—only this time, something important was missing between us. Something we never said out loud.

Mom and Sammy were happy for us.

Genuinely happy.

But every promotion felt like a reminder too.

That the position I held…

Was once his.

Vin and I had just walked into the station when he started talking.

“So,” he said casually, adjusting his badge, “about the new officer…”

I frowned slightly. “What about her?”

He smirked. “She’s into you.”

I let out a short laugh. “Come on. Just because she brought me coffee and not you?”

Vin raised his eyebrows. “Those are signs, bro. Very soon she’ll be bringing her lips to you.”

I immediately smacked the back of his head.

“Ow—hey!”

“That’s why you dyed your hair white,” I said flatly. “Too much smoke in that brain of yours.”

He straightened up, offended. “Hey! This makes me look sexy. You have no taste.”

I shook my head, about to respond—

“Good morning, Detectives.”

We both turned.

It was her.

The new officer.

Vin’s so-called “case study.”

She stood there confidently, holding a file against her chest, eyes bright with nervous energy.

Before I could say anything, Vin immediately answered with a grin.

“Good morning, Officer Mae. How are you?”

“I’m good,” she said politely. Then she glanced between us. “The inspector asked to see you, Detective Lee.”

Vin and I exchanged a look.

Mae suddenly laughed awkwardly, realizing her mistake.

“Oh—sorry, I meant the older brother,” she corrected quickly.

We both chuckled.

“It’s fine,” I said, nodding slightly. “Thank you, Officer.”

She bowed lightly and walked away.

Vin smirked again. “See you later, Detective Sergeant.”

“Sure, honorable Lee,” he replied dramatically.

I shook my head, smiling despite myself, and headed toward the inspector’s office.

I knocked once.

“Come in.”

I stepped inside.

“Aah, Detective Lee,” the inspector said immediately, as if he had been expecting me. “Please, sit.”

I bowed slightly before sitting down.

“Thank you, sir.”

He nodded warmly. “First of all, I want to let you know—I’m proud of you. Even those in high command are. You’re becoming a role model for many officers here in South Seoul.”

“Thank you, Inspector.”

He waved it off. “That’s no problem.”

Then his tone shifted slightly.

“The main reason I called you here… is because we’ve received a request from the United States.”

My attention sharpened instantly.

“Specifically, New York City.”

I frowned. “New York?”

He nodded.

“My friend is the inspector there. For many years, they’ve been struggling with a case—human trafficking, drug operations, organized crime… all connected.”

I stayed silent, listening.

“But what’s worse,” he continued, “is that all of it appears to be controlled by one person.”

My eyes narrowed slightly.

“One person?”

“Yes. A mastermind. For years, they haven’t been able to catch them.”

He leaned back slightly.

“They’ve requested our assistance. Specifically yours.”

I blinked once. “Mine?”

“They were impressed by your record. Your intelligence. Your determination.”

I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel.

Pride?

Pressure?

Or something heavier.

I exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure if I should be happy or concerned.”

The inspector studied me carefully.

“How long will I be gone?”

“Until the case is closed,” he replied simply.

Silence followed.

I looked down for a moment.

This wasn’t new.

I had seen this before—through my father.

He had been transferred countless times. Different cities. Different cases. Different dangers.

But he always came back.

Fast.

Efficient.

Unshaken.

That was why people respected him.

That was why I promised myself I would walk in his footsteps.

I looked up.

“Okay, Inspector. When do I leave?”

“Saturday. 11 a.m.”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

I stood up, ready to leave.

“Lee,” he called.

I turned back.

He looked at me for a moment longer than necessary.

“You’re doing great. And so is Vin.”

Something tightened in my chest at the mention of my brother.

I forced a small smile, then bowed respectfully.

“Thank you, sir.”

And I left.