The Code of a Kshatriya

Minsu's Cafe, City S

Jihoo, after a moment of stunned silence, cleared his throat and walked directly towards his father's table, trying to appear nonchalant, though his heart hammered a little faster. "Father," he said, the word feeling both natural and utterly surreal in the bustling human cafe. He pulled out a chair and sat opposite him.

Surya's golden eyes, filled with an ancient mirth, twinkled. "My son. It's rare to find you without a storm cloud brewing over your head. How are you, truly? This new assignment, these mountains... they weigh on you, I sense."

Jihoo instinctively straightened, a lifetime of divine expectations making him guard his vulnerabilities. "I'm fine, Father. Just settling into City S. The case is... complex, but I'll manage." He offered a polite, but undeniably strained, smile.

Surya's smirk deepened, a knowing look passing through his eyes that made Jihoo feel entirely transparent. "Manage, of course. You always do. But tell me, Minsu," he addressed the cafe owner, who had approached their table with Jihoo's coffee, seemingly oblivious to the subtext of their conversation. Minsu looked up, a faint, polite smile on his tired face. "How fares the son of my twin brother these days?"

The words hung in the air, a cosmic bomb dropped subtly into the mundane. Jihoo's head snapped to Minsu, then back to Surya, a profound shock washing over his face. Minsu? Son of Varuna? His twin brother? It explained the uncanny intuition Minsu sometimes displayed, the quiet depth Jihoo had always felt in him, but never understood. He thought of their shared tall stature, the lean builds, the similar eye shape, even the way their hair fell. All the physical traits he'd attributed to coincidence or shared human ancestry now clicked into a divine pattern.

Minsu replied in a sad, depressed voice, " As good as it can be. Let's say the tides are rough and my father is least interested in getting them controlled."

Surya smiled, " may you find what you are looking for, son."

Jihoo looked at his father. The Deva  seemed to enjoy mortal company .

"Why are you here? Just to observe Minsu?"

Surya's golden eyes glinted with a knowing amusement. He took a slow sip from his own tea, allowing a moment of silence to stretch, amplifying Jihoo's impatience.

"My presence, son, is merely a reflection of where my light is most needed," Surya finally said, his voice a warm hum. "And as for observation... a sun sees all, does it not? Just as a true Kshatriya sees the path of justice, no matter how veiled by shadow." He leaned slightly forward, his gaze piercing. "Remember the code, Jihoo. To restore balance, to defend the innocent, to face the encroaching darkness without faltering. Such is the dharma of a warrior, regardless of the foe."

He paused, a faint, melancholic smile touching his lips as his eyes flickered towards Minsu, still working diligently behind the counter. "And know this, my son, for it is a truth as old as the cosmos: Love, in all its myriad forms, is the greatest of all strengths. Yet, it can also be the most profound of curses. One must wield it, or be broken by it."

"Love eh?"

"Yes love. Not just romantic , but parental, sibling and even friendly one. " the Deva of Stars continued.

"Especially sibling love, elder sisters can do anything for their younger brothers."

Just as Jihoo was about to press for more, his phone vibrated, an urgent call from Snow. He quickly excused himself, stepping away from his father's table.

"Sir, another one," Snow's voice was grim, strained with fresh horror. "Another murder in the Green Mountains. This time, a lawyer. Found in a secluded clearing near the Eastern Ridge."

Jihoo's jaw tightened. A lawyer. Not a combatant. This changed the profile. "Any details, Snow?"

"Yes, sir. It's... unsettling. The same precise neck injury, same lack of struggle, same look of sheer terror on his face. But there's something new." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "A note was left at the scene. Written in Sanskrit. It says, 'पिडित योद्धाय धर्मयुद्धम' — 'Piditha Youdhaya Dharmayuddham.'"

Jihoo felt a cold chill despite the warmth emanating from his father's nearby presence. Sanskrit. Ancient words. He knew them, of course, a part of his divine heritage. "The Crusade of a Pained Warrior," he translated internally, the meaning resonating with a deeper, more primal understanding.

His thoughts immediately swirled from the mundane to the mythical. A pained warrior. A crusade. This wasn't just a random act of a powerful being. This was purposeful. A mission. But what kind of warrior? And what kind of pain could drive such an entity to murder, and to leave such a specific, ancient message?

The pieces from his conversations with Snow and Surya began to coalesce into a terrifying new hypothesis. The Rakshasa, the seven-foot-tall being that terrified its victims, was no mere wild beast. It was a warrior, acting with intent, driven by a profound, likely ancient, pain. And if his father's words about love being a curse, and a sister's devotion, could there be a link to this new, vengeful killer?

The supernatural element was no longer a vague suspicion; it was staring him in the face, demanding recognition. This wasn't merely a police case; it was a cosmic reckoning, veiled in modern crime scenes.

"Snow we need to talk to Ms Kim Saeyeon , the lawyer's daughter."

Snow nodded and replied, " I will text you the address in 3 minutes"

Lawyer Kim's home , City S

The polished gates of Lawyer Kim's sprawling residence gleamed under the City S sun as Jihoo and Snow approached. A stern-faced guard stepped forward, blocking their path. "How may I help you?" he asked, his tone crisp.

Jihoo smoothly produced his badge, the insignia catching the light. "Good morning," he began, his voice a warm, inviting baritone. "Detective Jihoo, Crime Branch, City S PD. We're here to speak with Ms. Kim Saeyeon, the lawyer's daughter. Could you arrange an appointment for us?" His smile was easy, disarming, carrying just the right blend of authority and affability.

The guard seemed to soften almost imperceptibly, nodding. He spoke into his intercom, then the heavy gates swung open. "Ms. Saeyeon will see you now," he stated, a hint of unusual deference in his voice.

"Thank you kindly," Jihoo replied, offering a polite nod of gratitude. As he stepped through the gates, he began to hum softly, a low, melodic tune: "Switch up my style, I take any lane. I switch up my cup, I kill any pain..."

Inside the opulent living room, seated on a plush couch, Kim Saeyeon watched, her eyes wide, as a remarkably handsome officer calmly strolled into her home, the sweet, soulful humming filling the spacious room. Behind him, equally striking, walked a female officer.

Jihoo paused in the center of the room, his gaze direct and empathetic as he met Saeyeon's. He bowed slightly, a gesture of respect that felt entirely natural. "Good morning, Ms. Saeyeon," he began, his voice a smooth blend of professionalism and effortless charm. "I am Taeyang Jihoo, Detective and Senior Inspector, Crime Branch, City S PD. This is Detective and Deputy Senior Inspector, Snow Shiroi." He gestured to Snow, who offered a crisp nod. "We've been assigned to your father's case, and we're here to speak with you about it. If you don't mind, we have a few questions." His demeanor was calm, reassuring, designed to put her at ease despite the grim subject.

Saeyeon, visibly captivated, managed a soft nod. "Of course. Please, have a seat."

Jihoo and Snow took the chairs opposite the couch, settling in comfortably.

"Would you like something, Officer Taeyang?" Saeyeon asked, her eyes lingering on him. "Coffee, perhaps?" Her offer clearly bypassed Snow, a subtle but unmistakable sign of Jihoo's immediate impact.

"Sure, Ms. Saeyeon," Jihoo replied with an easy smile. "One for me, and one for Detective Shiroi, please." He included Snow smoothly, without a hint of awkwardness, showcasing his natural chivalry. Saeyeon quickly instructed her butler.

Jihoo leaned forward slightly, his expression shifting to one of focused empathy. "Before your father's unfortunate demise, Ms. Saeyeon, did he try to contact you? Or send you any suspicious texts or messages?"

"No," Saeyeon replied, her gaze fixed on Jihoo. "He didn't contact either me or my mother. However, he was exhibiting some... erratic behavior."

Snow, seizing the opening, interjected, "Sorry to interrupt, but what kind of erratic behavior?"

Saeyeon, however, barely glanced at Snow, her focus remaining entirely on Jihoo. She hesitated, then spoke, her voice lower. "He started saying he'd committed a grave sin, that something... or someone called Azrael was hunting him. He said he had 'convicted an innocent' and that it would 'come back to bite him.' He became incredibly religious, praying constantly. He even said the money he'd earned was 'money of sin.' He hired professional security services, too. It genuinely seemed like he felt something was stalking him."

Jihoo's calm demeanor didn't falter, but his mind raced. Azrael. The Angel of Death. The pieces from his supernatural understanding began to fall into place. "Since when was he exhibiting such behavior?" he asked, his voice even, yet probing.

Saeyeon took a moment, thinking. "Ever since he won the 'College Case.'"

Snow looked visibly frustrated. She maintained her professional demeanor despite being triggered and angered by the female witness who was seemingly smitten at her partner.

Saeyeon however was more than interested in talking to Jihoo, her eyes sized up his handsome face and his manly features.  She was having butterflies in her stomach as she talked to this handsome officer, hoping to earn his attention towards herself.

"And this 'College Case'... was it the one that made headlines for its rather... unconventional tactics? The one where there were whispers about unethical maneuvering?" Snow leaned forward, her gaze now fixed intently on Saeyeon, ignoring Jihoo's subtle attempts at de-escalation. "Do you recall who was the investigating officer on that specific case, Ms. Saeyeon?"

Saeyeon, visibly annoyed by Snow's persistence and clear attempt to reclaim Jihoo's attention, barely spared her a glance. Her eyes, instead, drifted back to Jihoo, a shy smile returning to her lips. "It was a high-profile case, Detective Taeyang," she answered, completely disregarding Snow's pointed questions. "It involved a large university and a group of students. My father's firm represented the university. It was quite celebrated at the time. A landmark victory for his career." She seemed to sigh contentedly, as if reliving a pleasant memory of her father's success, completely omitting any mention of ethics or a past investigating officer.

Jihoo, maintaining his easygoing demeanor, subtly suppressed a smirk. He shot Snow a quick, amused glance that plainly said, 'Looks like you've got competition, Deputy.' Then, turning back to Saeyeon with a perfectly calm expression, he nodded. "I see. Thank you, Ms. Saeyeon. That's very helpful." He subtly scribbled "College Case - unethical?" and "who was IO?" into his notebook, his mind already formulating how to get those answers later

"Lee Jin Woo, the Eastern City S Police Chief," Saeyeon replied without wasting a minute. To her , the grand-plan of getting Jihoo's attention was succeeding .

Snow, however, wasn't letting it go. She slumped back slightly, crossing her arms, a clear pout on her lips. "Oh, of course it's 'very helpful' when he asks," she grumbled, loud enough for Jihoo to hear, though Saeyeon still seemed oblivious. "My questions are just for decoration, apparently. Some people just have all the luck with witnesses." It was a classic Snow move, a playful jab to get Jihoo's attention back on their partnership, rather than on the smitten witness.

Jihoo merely raised an eyebrow at Snow, a silent acknowledgment of her competitive nature. He was already standing, his mind running a thousand miles a minute.

"Let's go, Snow," Jihoo commanded, his voice now crisp and free of the cafe’s easygoing charm. "We need to check the records on the 'College Case' and find out everything about this Lee Jin Woo. The key to the warrior's pain—and the next victim—is buried in that old file."

Jihoo rose, his mind already three steps ahead of the conversation, mapping out the 'College Case' leads. As he moved toward the door, Kim Saeyeon, now visibly excited, quickly intercepted him.

"Detective Taeyang," she said, leaning close, her voice a low purr. She slipped a crisp, expensive-looking card into his hand. "This is my personal card. My father's firm deals with a lot of... complex situations. If you ever, ever get into any trouble, especially with the department or legal maneuvering, you call me. I'll use every law skill I have to get you out." Her look was less professional offer, and more a direct, personal plea for a future connection.

He gave her a charming, easy smile and nodded. "Thank you, Ms. Saeyeon. I appreciate the offer." He tucked the card into his pocket, giving the gesture the weight of sincere gratitude.

He turned and strode out to the car. Snow was already sitting in the passenger seat, her arms crossed, face stony. She was silent, radiating a cold, hostile energy that felt colder than usual.

She's definitely mad, Jihoo mused, misinterpreting her silence. She thinks I made her look useless in front of a key witness. I need to smooth that over, or our partnership will dissolve.

Just as Jihoo was about to start the car and address her professional frustration, he saw the commotion. Up ahead, on a busy street corner, a group of at least ten muscular gang members were aggressively shaking down a terrified street vendor, overturning his cart. Injustice, blatant and vile, unfolding in broad daylight.

Jihoo felt the familiar, chaotic Honey Badger like rage flash behind his eyes. The feeling was a dark, exhilarating rush, the one consequence of his healing factor: a primal urge to meet violence with overwhelming force. Dharma demanded action.

He reached for the door handle.

"Don't you dare," Snow's voice finally broke the silence, sharp and laced with unexpected panic. "Stop. Are you a lunatic? There are ten of them! Call for backup, Jihoo, now!" Her tone held a desperate intensity, part professional duty, part protective jealousy fueled by the recent flirtation she'd witnessed.

Jihoo ignored her completely.

He approached the ten thugs who turned to face him, amused by the sight of a single, well-dressed man interfering.

"Get out of here, copper," the leader sneered, raising a fist.

Jihoo didn't respond with a warning. He responded with a primal release of suppressed energy. He moved like a controlled burst of solar energy. His first strike—a precise, bone-shattering blow to the leader's jaw—sent the man flying back into a street sign with an sickening crack.

The rest of the gang reacted with shock and then overwhelming aggression. They swarmed him.

Jihoo fought with unholy intensity, a brutal efficiency that transcended normal combat. This wasn't a police arrest; it was a purification ritual. He used elbows and knees like high-velocity impact hammers, snapping limbs and incapacitating with every blow. His internal Armor hummed, keeping his movements relentless.

A burly thug rushed him from the side, swinging a hockey stick like a baseball bat, aiming for Jihoo's head. The solid wood whacked against Jihoo's temple with the sound of a tree branch breaking.

Jihoo didn't flinch. The pain was minimal, the healing factor instantly initiating repairs. He only felt a surge of cold annoyance. He turned his head slowly to face the thug, his black eyes shining with an unnervingly calm, predatory focus. The thug froze, suddenly seeing the abyss of Jihoo's contained power.

"That displeases me," Jihoo stated, his voice a low, gravelly threat.

He grabbed the hockey stick with one hand, yanking it free, and with the other, he seized the thug's forearm. Without a word, he applied pressure—a quick, casual twist that resulted in a horrific, compound snap. The thug screamed, collapsing instantly.

Snow watched from the car, her earlier jealousy now replaced by pure, terrified awe. This wasn't the police officer she knew. This was a force of nature—brutal, untouchable, and seemingly insane.

In less than a minute, ten hardened gang members lay broken, groaning on the pavement, surrounded by the debris of the vendor's cart. Jihoo stood over them, slightly winded but utterly unmarked. He smoothed his jacket, the Honey Badger like rage receding just beneath the surface.

He walked calmly back to the car, got in, and restarted the engine. He glanced at Snow, who was staring straight ahead, pale and silent.

"You okay, Snow?" he asked, his tone completely nonchalant, as if he'd just cleared a path of traffic cones.

Snow looked at him, her eyes wide. "Who... who are you, Jihoo? You didn't even get scratched. You just... broke that man's arm." She didn't sound angry or professional anymore; she sounded genuinely shaken.

Jihoo just smiled, a hint of danger in his expression.

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