Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yunho lingered outside the bar, hands in his pockets, staring at the familiar doorway. It had been a while since he’d last been here. Work had kept him tied up, and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t drink unless he’d closed a case. Now, though, the latest one was finally wrapped up, and he had the time—and the need—for a drink.

Pushing open the door, he was hit by the usual mix of tobacco smoke and aged spirits. The dim glow of the oil lamps gave the place a cozy vibe, casting warm amber light on the polished mahogany furniture. Small groups of patrons sat scattered around, their faces hazy behind the curl of pipe smoke.

Behind the bar stood San, his old friend and the owner of the joint. San didn’t even look up as Yunho walked in, his hands busy mixing a drink. “Rough day at work?” he asked casually.

“Not rough,” Yunho replied as he slid onto a barstool. “Just long. Too much paperwork.” He glanced at the rows of gleaming bottles behind the bar, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease just a little.

San hummed in response, setting a glass of some mystery liquor in front of Yunho without asking. “Drink,” he said, already moving on to serve another guest. Yunho didn’t question it—San’s choices were always good.

By the time San had a moment to join him, it was close to two in the morning. Yunho had migrated to a corner table with his drink, watching the ebb and flow of the late-night crowd.

“Busy night,” Yunho noted as San sat down with a relieved sigh.
“Yeah,” San replied. “Saturday rush. But now it’s just us.” He headed back to the bar, returning with two glasses of good whiskey, neat.

“I see Hoongjiong didn’t come. Is he busy driving cabs?” San observed. Yunho nodded. The rest of the night was fairly uneventful as the two friends shared some peaceful quiet moments , sipping their drinks as the bar slowly emptied.
___________

Yunho wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he woke to the sound of a boy’s voice—clear, high, and much too loud for his headache.

“Morning, sirs!” the boy chirped as he marched in, clutching a folded newspaper. “Big news today—some important fellow’s gone missing! Mam says a messenger deserves a coin for his trouble. Spare one for a poor lad?”

Yunho, still groggy and disoriented, fumbled in his pocket and handed over a half crown. The boy’s eyes lit up as he carefully set the paper on the bar, then took the coin with a quick bow before darting off like he expected Yunho to change his mind.

The bar, still faintly glowing from the night before, now welcomed in the soft light of morning. Behind the counter, San looked remarkably awake despite the late night, quietly wiping down glasses while his coffee steamed nearby.

“Sorry for crashing here,” Yunho muttered, his voice scratchy.
San glanced over with a small smile. “Don’t sweat it. I nodded off too. Made you some tea—it’s supposed to help with headaches.”

Grateful, Yunho accepted the tea and took a seat at the bar. He unfolded the newspaper, the bold headline immediately grabbing his attention:

“Duke Mortimer Thornhill Vanishes—City’s Greatest Benefactor Presumed Dead.”

Chapter Text

Despite the absence of Duke Mortimer Thornhill's physical body, the police declared him dead. With no body to bury, the "funeral" took on an unconventional form.

Mourners gathered at the Thornhill estate, a grand property surrounded by lush gardens, horse stables, and a serene lake. The scene was somber: lords dressed in sharp black suits with polished shoes, and ladies clad in long-sleeved, high-necked black dresses. They stood quietly, their grief as polished and reserved as their attire.

The guest list went beyond the aristocracy. Duke Thornhill’s influence had extended far and wide, and among the attendees were middle-class businessmen who owed their success to his generosity. Guards were stationed around the estate, ensuring the safety of the diverse crowd.

A lone police officer, clad in a long black trench coat, stood silently watching in the corner of the room, as if inspecting all the guests.

Those closest to the Duke wore more intricate mourning attire—veils, brooches of black onyx, and other elegant touches. Amongst them was an about 25 year old man, with a tailored suit set and a matching black top hat. He was tall and slender and even though he stood in silence - mourning - he commanded the attention of all those present. His name was Song Mingi.
__________

Jongho stood in the corner of the grand ballroom of the Thornhill mansion, quietly observing the attendees. The crowd seemed to fall into two distinct groups.

On one side were the genuinely mournful individuals, dabbing their eyes with black handkerchiefs, their sorrow at the loss of the benefactor completely visible.

Whether their grief stemmed from a personal fondness for the man or concern for their company's financial future without his generous support remained open to interpretation.

However, Jongho couldn't help but notice a different demeanor among some of the aristocrats. A subtle glint in their eyes betrayed emotions not apparent to the untrained observer, but unmistakable to someone like Jongho, who was one of the police’s most valuable detectives. It almost seemed as if they were relieved.

Adorning the front wall of the room was a striking portrait of the Duke and next to it stood Lord Song Mingi in his most regal mourning attire.

Beside him, however, stood a man Jongho couldn’t recognize. He was shorter than Mingi, with medium-length hair that curled at the top of his head, giving him a timeless appearance. Additionally, he had a birthmark at the corner of his eye.

Something about the mysterious man's appearance or perhaps his aura left Jongho feeling anxious and weirdly exposed.

He realized he had been staring too long when their eyes unexpectedly met, sending an electric shock down Jongho's spine. He quickly averted his gaze.

Yet, the man continued to watch him with a curious intensity, causing Jongho to feel as though his gaze was piercing right through him. It was only when another man ascended the podium at the center of the room that he finally looked away.
__________

As Earl Park Seongwha stepped onto the podium, the guests turned their full attention to him.

"Please, have a seat," he sighed, his words carrying across the room despite them being said quietly. In response, everyone, including Mingi and Yeosang, took their seats.

Traditionally, it was expected that someone close to the deceased, or at least someone important, would give a speech. While Mingi, Yeosang, or even Wooyoung could have done it, Seongwha, being an Earl, had the highest-ranking title compared to Mingi's Lordship, Yeosang's Countship, and well, Wooyoung had no title at all.

Seongwha breathed in and out and then perfectly recited his speech:

“We gather here today to honor the memory of our esteemed benefactor, Lord Mortimer Thornhill. His generosity knew no bounds, and his impact on our lives and our community will be felt for generations to come.

Though he may no longer walk among us, his spirit lives on in the countless lives he touched and the countless hearts he uplifted. Let us remember him not with sorrow, but with gratitude for the light he brought into our lives.

May he rest in eternal peace and let us hope that we find his body soon.

Thank you.”

As the last line was spoken, Yeosang noticed the handsome man he had glanced at earlier raise an eyebrow.
__________

"Hey, Yeosang, are you okay?"
Seongwha asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Uh, yeah. Why?" he replied.

"Oh, nothing. It's just that you've been zoning out for a while. Just wanted to make sure you're all right."

Yeosang's cheeks flushed a light pink as he felt embarrassed, realizing he had been staring at the spot where he last saw the stranger standing.

"No, everything's fine. Thanks for checking in, though."

Chapter Text

“A Mr. Choi is here to see you,” Miss Brown, Yunho’s secretary, announced before stepping out of the room.

A man entered, dressed sharply in a crisp white shirt, black tie, and a dark gray wool suit under a long black trench coat.

“Hello, I’m Choi Jongho. You must be Detective Jeong Yunho,” the man said as he extended a hand. “I’ve got a case for you.”
Jongho glanced around the room, taking in the walls lined with paintings and the view of central London.

“Oh, sure, have a seat,” Yunho said, a little surprised but eager for a new case. It had been a slow week, and he was itching to get back to work. Pulling out a chair for his guest, Yunho couldn’t help but try to guess what kind of case this was—it was a habit of his. Given how common theft cases had been recently, he figured that was why Jongho had come.

“It’s... a little complicated,” Jongho said, letting out a sigh. “You might want to sit down for this.”
Yunho nodded and offered, “Let me pour us some tea first.” As Jongho shrugged off his coat, Yunho caught sight of a police badge clipped to his tailored suit.

“Wait—you’re a policeman?” Yunho asked, startled.
Jongho noticed the reaction and gave a small smile. “That’s right. I’m a detective, actually. Look, I know this isn’t the usual way you get cases, but hear me out. You can decide afterward if you want to take it.”

Yunho hesitated, then sat across from him, curiosity taking over.

“What’s the case?” Yunho asked. “It must be a tough one if even the police can’t handle it.”

“Well you see, i’m here more on a personal notice, not as part of the police force” Jongho explained.

Yunho tilted his head, intrigued. Jongho leaned forward. “You’ve heard about the disappearance of Duke Mortimer Thornhill, right?”

“Of course. It was all over the news. But I thought the police declared him dead? Why do you need me to investigate?” Yunho asked cautiously.

“Yes, they did,” Jongho admitted. “But something about it doesn’t sit right with me. Think about it—no body was ever found, yet they rushed to declare him dead the day after he disappeared. They even held a funeral without solid evidence. And you know what’s even stranger? None of the aristocrats close to him even pushed for an investigation. Not one.”

Yunho frowned. “That is odd. Why would they do that?”

“Exactly my question,” Jongho said, his voice growing frustrated. “When I brought this up to my boss, he brushed me off. Told me it wasn’t a big deal and not worth looking into. It’s like someone doesn’t want us to dig deeper. I can’t prove it, but I suspect the aristocrats or someone influential is pulling strings to shut this down.”

“Maybe your boss was paid off to keep quiet?” Yunho suggested.

Jongho gave a dry chuckle. “You said it, not me. But yeah, that’s crossed my mind. That’s why I’m here—I want you to figure out what’s really going on. Find out what happened to the Duke.”

Jongho extended his hand. Yunho hesitated for a moment before shaking it. “Alright. I’ll take the case.”

After the hand shake Yunho asked“Do you have any leads?”

“I don’t have much time to go into detail since my shift starts soon,” Jongho said, glancing at his watch. “But if I were you, I’d start with the Song, Kim, Kang, and Shin families. They’re powerful, wealthy, and all had close ties to the Duke. I went to the funeral last week and took notes on anything that seemed suspicious—I’ll send them to you later.”

“Got it. I’ll start digging,” Yunho said, jotting down the names.
Jongho stood up and headed for the door. “I’ll stay in touch. Let me know if you find anything—I’ll do my best to help with any inside info I can get.”

Yunho watched him leave, then immediately turned to his desk, ready to begin researching the names Jongho had given him.

Chapter Text

Yunho’s room was a total mess.

An old cup of coffee sat abandoned on his desk, clothes were scattered across the bed, and papers covered almost every inch of the floor. Those papers? They were stuffed with details about anyone remotely tied to Duke Mortimer Thornhill. Yunho had been locked away in his room for four straight days, barely sleeping—he’d maybe gotten 15 hours in total. But the chaos had paid off. He now knew pretty much everything an outsider could about the Duke and the aristocratic families around him.

The Kim family had caught his eye first. They were the richest group after the Duke and totally lived up to the “perfect aristocrat” image. Their three kids—a pair of sons and a daughter—were overachievers, constantly earning top marks and admiration.

Then there were the Songs. They were distantly related to the Duke, and their family history was full of connections to him. Yunho’s notes kept circling back to Song Mingi, a young guy with a knack for attracting attention—and trouble.

Just as Yunho was diving into another note, the sound of the door creaking made him jump. His roommate, Hongjoong, stepped in holding some papers. He looked exhausted, his long hair a tangled mess, and it was clear he’d spent the night working his cab job again.

“Hey, Yunho. The mailman mentioned you got a letter yesterday. Some guy dropped it off for you,” Hongjoong said, his voice calm despite how tired he looked.

“Oh, thanks, Hongjoong,” Yunho said, his face lighting up. “It’s probably about my case.” But as he glanced up, his eyes started to water—he was so sleep-deprived it hurt to focus.

Hongjoong frowned. “Yunho, you need a break. You’re going to burn out at this rate.”

“I’m fine,” Yunho mumbled, already reaching for another paper.

Hongjoong sighed but didn’t push too hard. “Come on, let’s walk to the post office together. You can tell me what you’ve been working on.”

Yunho hesitated, his mind racing with what else he could be doing. But Hongjoong’s concerned look finally made him give in. “Alright, fine,” he said, pulling on his coat. “But we’re taking the fast route.”

Hongjoong gave a small smile as they headed out into the chilly air. He knew Yunho wouldn’t stop working anytime soon, but at least he could get him out of the room for a little while.
___________

“So, what is this new case about? It must be interesting if you’d be willing to walk outside in the freezing cold just to get a letter.” Hoongjoong muttered as he opened his and his roommates front door after having successfully acquired it.

“Well, I don’t have all the details yet,” Yunho admitted, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “But you’re right—it’s definitely interesting. Someone’s hired me to dig into some aristocratic families. Sounds like there’s a lot at stake.”

Hongjoong snorted. “Ha, serves them right!” His face flushed as his voice grew louder. “Honestly, when are those people not guilty of something? Every time I think about the absurd wealth they hoard while the rest of us scrape by, I get furious! I mean, look at us—we’re doing okay for ourselves. We rent a decent place in the middle of London, right? But even us, we’re years away from their status. And then there’s the thousands of homeless people in this city they just... ignore!” He threw up his hands, his rant in full swing. “They have the power to change lives overnight, but do they? No! They sit in their mansions, sipping champagne, pretending the rest of us don’t exist.”

Yunho placed a steadying hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Hey, take it easy,” he said gently. “I get it. You’ve got every reason to feel this way. But think about it—if I investigate them, I might actually uncover some dirt. Maybe this is a chance to hold them accountable.”

Hongjoong sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I always lose it when I think about this stuff. I just... hate how unfair it all is.”

The pair reached their apartment door, and Yunho stepped inside while Hongjoong lingered for a moment.

“Anyway,” Hongjoong said, softening as he turned back to Yunho. “You know how crazy the cab business gets on a Friday night. I’d better head out. And you—don’t forget to get some actual sleep for once, okay?”

Yunho chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ll try and the same goes for you. Good luck with the passengers, Hongjoong.”

“Thanks. You’ll need luck too, with those aristocrats,” Hongjoong muttered before heading down the street. Yunho closed the door behind him, shaking his head with a small laugh.

Once he’d taken off his shoes and hung up his coat Yunho sat down at his desk and opened the letter.

Dear Private Detective Yunho,
This is Detective Choi Jongho from the police— we’ve spoken before regarding this case.

I’ve arranged a way for you to go undercover at the Duke’s estate. The mansion’s gardener is currently looking for extra help with the cleaning and gardening in the mansion, and I’ve contacted them under a false name, claiming that my “nephew” is looking for work and has experience as a handyman.

If you accept, you’ll need to arrive at the Thornhill Estate on Monday at 8 a.m., where you will be introduced as Choi Yunho. Your duties will involve assisting with cleaning and gardening and anything else that needs to be done . Be aware that there’s a chance they may request you to stay on the property during the week. Whether you agree to this is entirely your choice.

For updates, I’d like you to write weekly reports and send them to Victoria Road 41. However, please write from Church Lane 73—a coworker lives there, and this precaution will help avoid suspicion.

If you gather enough evidence to support any criminal activity, don’t hesitate to act. You can reach me directly at 898-2590-0086 or contact the police, mentioning my name, Detective Choi Jongho, for immediate support.

Best of luck on this assignment. I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,
Detective Choi Jongho

Yunho reread the letter several times before laying down and mentally preparing himself for the case ahead.