An Arrest Too Soon

At 21:00, Oh Sejin was in the inner room of the security office.

The door was locked, and his hands were visible. Cartridges A and B were sealed in envelopes and placed on Gang Taejun's desk. Yun Haewon was in the waiting room next to the security office. Jeong Mugyeom had brought manual release equipment so they could move immediately if the oxygen alarm went off.

Every condition was in place. That was exactly why it felt so uneasy.

Gang Taejun wrote the first line in the shared ledger. `Oh Sejin isolated / cartridges sealed / Yun Haewon protected.` Then he looked at me.

"How should I write down the lone culprit hypothesis?"

I held the pen for a moment.

"Oh Sejin's cartridge switch is confirmed. Lone culprit is undetermined."

"Why undetermined."

"Because 00:07 is still outstanding."

He nodded. Not agreement, just permission to move to the next item.

Oh Sejin watched us through the glass. He said nothing. There was no way to tell if the silence was remorse or calculation. So Gang Taejun turned on the camera inside the room. His hands, his feet, the direction of his gaze, all of it got recorded.

"Are you trying to leave a record that Oh Sejin couldn't have moved?"

"If something happens even though Oh Sejin couldn't move, then a new question follows."

"And if nothing happens?"

"That gets recorded too."

Gang Taejun didn't favor either outcome in advance. That wasn't what made me trust him, it was what made me willing to work with him. Before moving to the waiting room, Yun Haewon called me over.

"If I collapse, don't open my envelope this time."

"Why not?"

"A procedure left behind by someone who collapsed is too easy for the living to abuse."

He had put himself on the suspect list too. It was late for that. Still, late was better than never.

At 23:50, there were four clocks in the control room.

Go Yura's independent test unit, Gang Taejun's wristwatch, the cafeteria's analog clock, and the central network screen. The central network was still running 63 seconds slow. This time, before correcting the central network, Go Yura saved the original as is and displayed the correction value separately alongside it.

"Even if someone claims tampering later, the original and the corrected version need to exist side by side."

As she spoke, she looked at my recorder. It held a portion of the original transaction waveform that the Q-13 key had unlocked at 00:13. Inside it was a nine minute stretch of silence. I still hadn't played it. My hand was resting on the play button.

Gang Taejun asked.

"Why haven't you opened it?"

"If I open it now, I might miss 00:07."

"Is that all there is to it?"

I couldn't answer. That wasn't all there was to it. I knew why those nine minutes were empty. Because I knew, I couldn't open it. A file you don't understand is evidence. A silence you do understand is close to a confession.

Go Yura glanced at the recorder's screen, then looked away. She probably wanted to ask too. But she opened the log window first.

"The R-3 reservation still isn't showing. Status monitoring starts from 00:06:50."

"Ten seconds early?"

"Since the central network is 63 seconds slow, that's based on actual time. I'll save the original alongside it too."

She tapped two buttons back and forth with her finger. `Save Original`, `Show Correction`. That was enough of a technical explanation. The two buttons said what words didn't need to. I lifted my hand off the play button. The nine unopened minutes stayed exactly as they were. The fact that I hadn't opened them was now on record too.

At 00:07:00, the correction protocol began.

Oh Sejin was in the security office. The cartridges were sealed. But ventilation valve number 3 closed. The green line on the screen turned yellow, and the airflow to the waiting room where Yun Haewon was cut off.

Go Yura shouted.

"By central network time it's still 00:05:57. Actual time is 00:07:00."

Jeong Mugyeom was already running with the equipment. Gang Taejun rechecked that Oh Sejin's room was still locked, then had me follow him out. No acting alone. Even though I wanted to run, he kept my position on record.

The waiting room door wouldn't open. Yun Haewon pulled the manual lever from inside, but it stopped halfway. His hand was visible through the glass. His palm hit the door twice. The third time was weak.

"Why is the manual lever stopping?"

I asked.

Go Yura flipped to another screen.

"During remote correction, the safety lock takes priority. It's only supposed to run in areas with no one in them."

"You mean it didn't know anyone was there?"

"The sensor is reading on central network time. It's 63 seconds behind."

That 63 seconds had surfaced again. What had been a clock discrepancy in chapter eight was now locking a door. A small number the reader had seen was cutting short a person's breathing.

At 00:08, Jeong Mugyeom opened the external panel.

"The electric lock is dead. Going to manual bypass."

He barely used his left hand. Gang Taejun grabbed the handle in his place. I checked whether the seal on the cartridge envelope was still intact. Once again, it was true that I looked at the envelope before the person. This time, though, the rescue team was already opening the door. I could write it down as a division of labor. I shouldn't use it as an excuse.

Yun Haewon was found sitting on the floor. His consciousness was faint. Because Oh Sejin wasn't there, emergency treatment came late. Another medical staff member brought the oxygen mask, and Jeong Mugyeom held the ventilation bypass valve by hand.

"The cartridges?"

Gang Taejun asked.

"Seal intact."

My answer was short. The first hand had been blocked. But the conditions for death had shifted.

Jeong Mugyeom didn't curse while opening the bypass valve. Instead, he called out numbers.

"Six turns. Seven turns. Any more force here and it snaps."

Gang Taejun gripped the door gap and pulled Yun Haewon's shoulder out. Yun Haewon hadn't fully lost consciousness, but he couldn't hold his gaze steady. He tried to look toward me. I should have taken his hand instead of the recorder. But my hand was over by the cartridge seal.

I switched my hand. Too late. But I switched it. Yun Haewon's hand wasn't cold. The fact that he was alive wasn't absolution.

At 00:13, the audit terminal opened.

The D-13 line appeared for thirteen seconds. The Q-13 key vibrated again. Go Yura pulled up the screen, and a portion of the original transaction waveform opened. The recording file showed up as a long line. From 23:55 to 00:04, the waveform was empty. Exactly nine minutes.

Gang Taejun asked.

"Is the file corrupted?"

"No."

My answer came too fast. He didn't miss that speed.

"You know."

I looked at the screen. Nine minutes earlier, there was a button tone. Original copy progress at 87 percent. Nine minutes later, an oxygen alarm and human voices. The gap between was empty. I knew why it was empty. If I said it, this investigation would turn back on me too.

"Right now we need to focus on 00:07."

"For now, fine. Not next time."

Gang Taejun didn't let my evasion slide. He only postponed it. That was more frightening.

I zoomed in on the start of the silent stretch. 23:55:00. Just before it, there was the sound of my breathing. After it, nothing. It wasn't that the file had cut off, it was flat, as if the input itself had disappeared. At the end of the silence there was one button tone. The sound of the copy progress climbing again.

Gang Taejun said, looking at the screen.

"Was it deleted, or was the recording stopped?"

"For now, it's just silence."

I said. I could have said it more precisely. I didn't. So he drew a star next to my answer. A mark meaning it was a question to reopen later.

At 00:14, Go Yura read the control log.

"Applying the correction, the actual approval time is 00:07:00. Code R-3. No name attached."

"What's R-3?"

Gang Taejun asked.

"It looks like a remote correction authority slot. It's a token, not a username. It doesn't show who pressed it."

Yun Haewon was moved to the medical room. His consciousness didn't return. No one said he was going to be fine. Saying he's fine too soon, and the case takes its revenge.

Oh Sejin watched the screen from inside the security office. He didn't knock on the door. Nor did he look like someone whose warning had proven right. He kept his head down, his right hand pressing down on his left.

"Do we show this log to Director Oh Sejin?"

Go Yura asked.

Gang Taejun shook his head.

"Seal the original first. Confrontation comes after."

It was the right order. An arrest that came too soon had already failed once. A confrontation that came too soon could make the same mistake.

At 00:17:13, the white light folded in at the end of the corridor.

Right before the reset, I looked at the recorder's waveform. Nine minutes of silence. A command that had gone through even while Oh Sejin was contained. R-3 left behind in place of a person's name.

I still hadn't said what my nine minutes meant.

On the control screen, `R-3 / 00:07 approval` remained in place of a person's name.

In the final ten seconds before the reset came, I saw three things.

Oh Sejin's hands were inside the locked room. The seal on the cartridge envelope was intact. Yun Haewon's breathing hadn't stabilized even after he was moved to the medical room. None of the three facts canceled out the others. Oh Sejin's action didn't disappear, R-3 didn't disappear, and my nine minutes didn't disappear either.

Gang Taejun picked up my ledger, which had fallen on the corridor floor. Even as the white light drew closer, he read the last line.

"Lone culprit hypothesis failed."

"Yes."

"The first question of the next loop is R-3."

"And my nine minutes."

Only after saying it did I realize I had let the words out. Nine minutes. I hadn't stated the motive, but the number had come out of my own mouth. Gang Taejun heard that number. He might not remember it in the next loop. But I will.

The white light folded my vision shut. Once again, the day went backward. But the question didn't go backward with it. Even with the first hand caught, death remained. Until we found the second hand, Yun Haewon could keep collapsing.

The ten seconds right before a reset were always too short, but this time they felt strangely long. I saw the glass door that had Oh Sejin locked in. He couldn't reach a hand outside it. I saw the safe's number tag. The seal on the cartridge envelope hadn't torn. I saw Yun Haewon's chest. The rhythm of it rising and falling didn't match the second hand on the screen.

"Record it."

Gang Taejun said. It wasn't clear who he was saying it to. Go Yura recorded the control screen, and I wrote numbers in the ledger. 00:07. R-3. Nine minutes. The three numbers had to stay on separate lines. Put them on one line, and the conclusion arrives before the reasoning.

Yun Haewon's fingers scratched at the bedsheet. His eyes were open, but there was no telling if he was seeing us. I wanted to run to him. Instead I held my feet still. Running meant losing Oh Sejin. Staying still could mean losing Yun Haewon. The loop only ever hands that choice to one person at a time.

"I'll submit my nine minutes myself."

I said.

Gang Taejun looked at me.

"Does that mean you'll tell me the motive too?"

"Evidence first."

I wrote down the recorder's file name. There was still a reason I couldn't say. But if I hid even the reason for not saying it, I would end up no different from Hong Sanguk or Mun Rahui. So I drew a line around it. I would submit the silent file. As for why I had stayed silent during those nine minutes, I would let Gang Taejun ask first in the next loop.

In the last screen before the white light reached us, `R-3 / 00:07 approval` was still there. Oh Sejin's arrest hadn't erased that line. The cartridge switch had been explained. The command remained. The silence remained too.

When the next loop opens, we'll start from 00:00 again. But the opening question changes. We won't chase Oh Sejin first. We won't open the medicine drawer first either. The first question is whose hand brought R-3 to life.

Inside the white light, I pressed the ledger against my chest. The paper wouldn't cross over with me. I pressed it anyway. Sometimes the pressure a body remembers becomes a note of its own. Gang Taejun reached his hand toward me. I couldn't tell if he meant to grab the ledger or grab hold of me.

"Lee Juwon."

He called out.

"Don't hide first, next time."

The reset came before I could answer. Only those words remained. My nine minutes weren't my own hidden stretch of time anymore. Someone had started asking.

As the white light closed in, I caught the briefest glimpse of Noeul's face. The child wasn't crying. He was just watching the time beyond the security office glass. What he had seen, I still don't know. If we question Noeul this loop, we push a child onto the witness stand again. What the next loop needs isn't more questions, it's positioning. The direction Noeul was looking, the spot where Yun Haewon collapsed, the screen where R-3 was approved. Those three positions need to line up first.

Only then would my nine minutes belong inside the case. If my silence stayed nothing more than private guilt, it would be far too convenient for someone. I didn't want to hand out that convenience any longer.

The question remained.