Police Station XYZ
"Captain R, you' re looking good these days. What' s your secret?"
The voice came from behind, warm breath brushing close to a pale ear. Standing there was a broad-shouldered officer, rugged with a trimmed mustache and built heavier than most men in the precinct.
It wasn' t the first time R had been teased like this. The glances, the lingering stares—it was obvious enough that even someone watching from Mars could tell the man was trying to flirt.
"Nothing special," R replied with a polite, restrained smile.
"Really? Because rumor has it you' ve got… special blood."
The strange remark made the coffee cup pause at R' s lips. His brow arched as he asked back smoothly,
"...Sorry? Blood?"
"Divine blood, of course. Right, Sergeant?"
The wiry officer standing nearby blurted it out, eyes wide, clearly not realizing his joke had stripped the warm smile right off R' s face.
"Come on," the big officer added with a grin. "The way you smile, it' s unreal. Never seen a cop look this graceful and refined before. It' s like heaven dropped you down here."
"True that," the skinny one chimed in.
Their banter rolled on, but R, the golden boy of XYZ precinct, only lifted his cup and took a calm sip. A few minutes later, the coffee room door opened again.
"Don' t you all have work to do?"
"Lieutenant Yuu!"
If R was the precinct' s darling, Yuu was the exact opposite—a storm in uniform. The notorious hardliner of the suppression unit, Yuu had no hesitation tearing into anyone, no matter their rank, if they stepped out of line. Some said it was arrogance; others blamed the confidence of being the stepson of a former Swedish ambassador. Whatever the reason, Yuu carried himself like a man who feared nothing.
"Standing around teasing people… nothing better to do?"
"It' s just a coffee break," the big cop muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Are you free, Captain R? I need a word." Yuu' s sharp gaze cut past the others, locking on R.
"I' m free," R answered, voice soft, smile faint. He rose, tall and composed, and walked past them. Heads tilted slightly as officers inhaled the subtle, unique scent that clung to him, something no other man carried.
"Using 'work' as an excuse, huh…" someone muttered behind them. Yuu ignored it, striding toward his office with R in tow. He gestured at a chair, all business now.
"This is about Siam Savings Bank." He slid an envelope across the desk.
R took it, flipped through the documents quickly, then lifted his eyes. A smile curved his lips again, but there was no trace of surprise.
"Kickbacks?" he said simply, summing up the entire file in one word.
"Yes. The missing billion wasn' t stolen. It was tribute—money politicians prepare every year for someone higher up."
Yuu leaned forward, hands clasped beneath his chin, his hawk-like eyes locking onto R' s. The captain' s own gaze, sharp and refined, had the calm poise of a swan. Beautiful to look at, yes—but dangerous all the same. The fact that the government trusted him to trace the billion spoke volumes.
"Why give it away for free?" R' s tone was mild, but his words cut straight through.
"There has to be a reason," Yuu admitted. "I don' t know what it is yet. But the budget reports and the actual spending don' t match. Money vanishes in every project. Add in deals tied to tourism, imports, exports—billions disappear. Even after cutting slices for all the middlemen, there' s still a mountain left over."
"And how many people do you think get a piece?" R asked quietly. "Let' s say ten."
Yuu hesitated.
"Do the math," R continued. "Based on the number of parliament members who voted for this budget, that' s 5.2 billion baht split. Plenty to go around. But someone must be getting more than the rest. Who would politicians hand that kind of money to?"
"...A guru, maybe? Some spiritual figure. People here love chasing blessings. Donations to temples are practically untraceable."
"But this money ended up in a crypto wallet," R countered smoothly. "Just as untraceable."
Yuu' s lips thinned. "Then who?"
"And who do you think stole the billion before it got delivered?" R asked.
"My guess? An insider."
"Any leads?"
"No. What about you?"
"Nothing."
"What?" Yuu stared.
"I don' t have a lead," R said, smile faint again. "Sorry I can' t help more. Maybe I' m not as sharp as you. Maybe I haven' t separated duty from instinct as well as I should. Truth is, I don' t like this group of politicians much. The only reason I agreed to help is because I want to know—how does a billion vanish, just like that? Especially from a bank that happens to be tied to their private investments."
"You sound detached," Yuu muttered, narrowing his eyes. "But the way you talk, it' s like you were sitting in the room with them. Like you know these people better than I do."
"Doesn' t everyone know what politicians are like?" R answered lightly.
"…I suppose."
"I should get back. I' ve got unfinished work."
R rose and left. Yuu sat there, brows furrowed deeper than before. He pulled open a drawer, revealing a smaller stack of documents—pages not included in the file he' d given R.
"…How the hell did he know the money went into crypto? That information' s in this drawer. He said he wasn' t interested, so why does he know more than he should…?
"That smile… it' s impossible to read. I have no idea what R is really thinking."