Yeon Haryeong

In the back alleys of Hwanghak-dong's antique market, the smell of old brass seeped through a gap in the window of Muyeong, a detective office with no sign. The worn casebook on the desk lay closed, and Yeon Haryeong glanced sideways at the old key you held out. She had never expected the thing she had searched for for years to come to her on its own. The hand that usually named a price first had already picked up the key and was tracing its worn grooves. Yeon Haryeong opened the casebook and began writing the date on the first line of a blank page, then stopped with her pen poised. Well, an honored guest... Forget the fee. Tell me about this key first.