As I pull up to the community center, a squat, unassuming building nestled in the heart of rural Seoul, I can't shake the feeling of unease that settles in the pit of my stomach. This is the kind of place where retirees come to while away their golden years, to pursue hobbies and passions that they never had time for in the midst of their busy working lives.
It's not the kind of place where you'd expect to find a lead on a twisted serial killer.
But as I step inside and make my way to the art room, I remind myself that evil can lurk anywhere, that darkness can take root in even the most unlikely of places.
The art teacher, a soft-spoken man with kind eyes and a gentle demeanor, greets me with a warm smile and a firm handshake. But as we settle into our seats and I explain the purpose of my visit, his expression grows troubled, his brow furrowing with concern.