If Seokga had been the one attacked, perhaps she would consider Chaeyeon more seriously. But Hwanin himself, to her knowledge, hadn’t done anything to anger the server. Would she seriously kill the emperor to infuriate his brother? Likely not. Still, it’s worth investigating. Perhaps Chaeyeon is a creature, one with claws. The cruise director, Soo-min, had been there, too—and had been so upset at the night’s turn of events, although she’d left later than Hwanin. Soo-min is also a samjokgu, with four claws on each of her dog form’s three paws. Yet try as she might, Kisa literally cannot imagine the easily ruffled cruise director somehow finding the courage to kill a god.

Growing frustrated, Kisa writes down another list: this time, of creatures with the ability to summon talon-like appendages. Gumiho. Yong. Inmyunjo (although there is no evidence of an Unruly inmyunjo ever existing). Samjokgu. Bulgae…

Haetae.

Pen moving to the list of greenhouse party suspects, Kisa hesitantly writes down Shin Korain’s name, remembering the small altercation between the two men. Korain had tried to insert himself between Seokga and Somi, Hwanin had held him back. She’d seen resentment on the haetae’s face. But is that enough of a motive for murder? No.

“Not in the practice room,” grumbles Hajun. “No Yakult in the practice room…sticky…”

Unless Hwanung, who—to Kisa’s knowledge—doesn’t have claws, decided to take out his father by hiring somebody on the ship to dispose of him. After all, if Hwanin dies (or, more aptly, is reverted to baby form), Hwanung takes the throne for an extended period of time. Instead of being the god of laws, he’ll spend years as heavenly emperor. Not quite “the god of sex, drugs, and rock and roll”—but it’s close enough that she underlines his name once more and adds an exclamation mark.

Still, something doesn’t feel right. Kisa is no Sherlock Holmes or Hercule Poirot, a fact that she’s sharply reminded of when she stares despondently down at the mess in the notebook. Admitting that she is completely out of her depth is almost revolting to her, but the greatest scholars aren’t afraid to admit that they don’t know. And Kisa absolutely does not know.

All names should be investigated, of course, but she has the sinking feeling that she’s not getting anywhere.

The feeling continues into the morning, as Kisa slips on her light-blue scrubs and tucks the small notebook into her bag with the pen. As she and Hajun wearily begin their shift in the sick bay, Kisa’s mind continues to stumble over the mystery.

How has nobody showed up on the cameras, following Hwanin and then moving the body? Teleportation is something she jots down in her notebook, but the number of creatures with claws and the ability to move through the confines of space are low…practically nonexistent.