As the last brick was pried away, a narrow tunnel was revealed, leading down into darkness. The officers exchanged another glance, steeling themselves for what lay ahead. The taller officer went first, flashlight in one hand, the other resting on his holstered weapon. The second officer followed, with Son, Han, and Ink trailing behind.

The tunnel was tight, the walls closing in around them. Ink’s growls echoed ominously, reverberating through the confined space. The group moved slowly, each step measured and deliberate. The path twisted and turned, descending deeper beneath the house.

Finally, they emerged into a small chamber. The air was stale, suffused with an unsettling chill. In the corner of the chamber lay a makeshift bed, tattered blankets strewn across it. And beside it, an old, weathered notebook.