2025๋…„ 9์›” 22์ผ ์›”์š”์ผ

๐Ÿ”ง ์ •๋น„ ํƒ์ • ์‚ฌ๊ฑด ํŒŒ์ผ NO. 007

7 : ๋‘ ๋ฒˆ์งธ ์‹ค๋ฆฐ๋”์˜ ๋ฐฐ์‹ 

( 7 : The Betrayal of Cylinder No.2)


์–ด๋‘์šด ๋น„ ๋‚ด๋ฆฌ๋Š” ์ €๋…, ํ•œ ๋Œ€์˜ ์ฐจ๊ฐ€ ๋œ์ปน์ด๋ฉฐ ์ •๋น„์†Œ ์•ž์— ๋ฉˆ์ถฐ ์„ฐ๋‹ค.

์—”์ง„๋ฃธ์—์„œ๋Š” ๋ถˆ๊ทœ์น™ํ•œ ๋–จ๋ฆผ์ด ๋ผ›์†๊นŒ์ง€ ์ „ํ•ด์กŒ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ ์ˆœ๊ฐ„, ๊ณ„๊ธฐํŒ ์œ„์˜ ๊ฒฝ๊ณ ๋“ฑ์ด ๋ฏธ์นœ ๋“ฏ์ด ์ ๋ฉธํ–ˆ๋‹ค.

์ฐจ์ฃผ๋Š” ์•ˆ์ƒ‰์ด ์ฐฝ๋ฐฑํ–ˆ๋‹ค.
“ํƒ์ •๋‹˜… ๊ฐ‘์ž๊ธฐ ์—”์ง„ ๊ฒฝ๊ณ ๋“ฑ์ด ๊นœ๋ฐ•์ด๋”๋‹ˆ, ์ฐจ๊ฐ€ ๋ถ€๋ฅด๋ฅด ๋–จ๋ฆฌ๊ธฐ ์‹œ์ž‘ํ–ˆ์–ด์š”."

๋‚˜๋Š” ์ž ์‹œ ์ฐจ๋ฅผ ๋ฐ”๋ผ๋ณด๋‹ค๊ฐ€, ๋งˆ์น˜ ๋ฒ”์ธ์„ ์ง€์ผœ๋ณด๋“ฏ ๋‚ฎ๊ฒŒ ์ค‘์–ผ๊ฑฐ๋ ธ๋‹ค.
“ ๋ช‡๋ฒˆ ์‹ค๋ฆฐ๋”์ผ๊นŒ ?… ์ด๊ฑด ์šฐ์—ฐ์ด ์•„๋‹ˆ์•ผ.”

์ฑ…์ƒ ์œ„ ์ˆ˜์ฒฉ์— ์šฉ์˜์ž๋“ค์ด ํ•˜๋‚˜์”ฉ ์ ํ˜€ ๋‚˜๊ฐ”๋‹ค.
์ ํ™” ํ”Œ๋Ÿฌ๊ทธ, ์ ํ™” ์ฝ”์ผ, ์—ฐ๋ฃŒ ์ธ์ ํ„ฐ, ์••์ถ• ๋ถˆ๋Ÿ‰, ์‹ฌ์ง€์–ด ์„ผ์„œ๊นŒ์ง€…

ํƒ์ •์˜ ์†๊ธธ์€ ์ฐจ๋ถ„ํ–ˆ๋‹ค.
์ ํ™” ์ฝ”์ผ์„ ์˜ฎ๊ฒจ ๊ฝ‚์ž, ๋ฏธ์ŠคํŒŒ์ด์–ด๋Š” ๋‹ค๋ฅธ ์‹ค๋ฆฐ๋”๋กœ ์ด๋™ํ–ˆ๋‹ค. ํผ์ฆ์€ ์™„์„ฑ๋๋‹ค.

“๋ฒ”์ธ์€ ๋„ค ๋†ˆ์ด์—ˆ๊ตฐ… 2๋ฒˆ ์‹ค๋ฆฐ๋”์˜ ์ ํ™” ์ฝ”์ผ.”

์‹ ํ’ˆ์œผ๋กœ ๊ต์ฒดํ•˜์ž, ์—”์ง„์˜ ๋–จ๋ฆผ์€ ๋งˆ์น˜ ๊ฑฐ์ง“๋ง์ฒ˜๋Ÿผ ์‚ฌ๋ผ์กŒ๋‹ค. ๊ฒฝ๊ณ ๋“ฑ์€ ๊บผ์ง€๊ณ , ์–ด๋‘ก๋˜ ๋ฐค์— ์ž‘์€ ์•ˆ๋„์˜ ๋น›์ด ๋น„์ณค๋‹ค.

์ฐจ์ฃผ๋Š” ๋–จ๋ฆฌ๋Š” ๋ชฉ์†Œ๋ฆฌ๋กœ ๋ฌผ์—ˆ๋‹ค.
“ํƒ์ •๋‹˜… ์ด์ œ ๊ดœ์ฐฎ์€ ๊ฑด๊ฐ€์š”?”

๋‚˜๋Š” ๋‹ด๋‹ดํžˆ ๋Œ€๋‹ตํ–ˆ๋‹ค.
“์ด๋ฒˆ ์‚ฌ๊ฑด์€ ๋‹จ์ˆœํ–ˆ์ง€๋งŒ, ๋งŒ์•ฝ ๋ฐฉ์น˜ํ–ˆ๋‹ค๋ฉด ์ด‰๋งค๊นŒ์ง€ ํƒ€๋ฒ„๋ ธ์„ ๊ฑฐ์š”. ์ด์ œ ์•ˆ์‹ฌํ•˜๊ณ  ๋‹ฌ๋ ค๋„ ๋ฉ๋‹ˆ๋‹ค.”

๊ทธ๋ ‡๊ฒŒ ๋˜ ํ•˜๋‚˜์˜ ๋ฏธ์Šคํ„ฐ๋ฆฌ๊ฐ€ ํ’€๋ ธ๋‹ค. ๊ทธ๋Ÿฌ๋‚˜ ์ •๋น„ ํƒ์ •์˜ ์ˆ˜์ฒฉ์€ ์•„์ง ํ…… ๋น„์–ด ์žˆ์ง€ ์•Š์•˜๋‹ค. ์–ด๋‘  ์†์—๋Š” ๋Š˜ ์ƒˆ๋กœ์šด ์‚ฌ๊ฑด์ด ๊ธฐ๋‹ค๋ฆฌ๊ณ  ์žˆ์—ˆ๋‹ค.


A rainy evening. A car staggered into the garage, shaking with every beat of its failing heart.

From under the hood came a harsh, uneven rhythm. On the dashboard, the check engine light flashed like an urgent SOS.

The driver’s face was pale.
“Detective… the warning light started flashing, and the whole car began to shudder. ’”

I watched the trembling car in silence, then whispered as though addressing the culprit itself:
“which Cylinder is misfire? … this is no coincidence.”

One by one, the suspects lined up in my notebook:
Spark plug, ignition coil, fuel injector, low compression, faulty sensors…

Calmly, I began the tests. I swapped the ignition coil, and the misfire followed to another cylinder. The puzzle snapped into place.

“So it was you all along… the ignition coil of Cylinder No.2.”

With a new coil installed, the engine’s rough tremor melted away. The warning light dimmed, and a small light of relief returned to the driver’s eyes.

His voice trembled as he asked:
“Detective… is it safe now?”

I nodded.
“This case was simple, but had it been ignored, it could have burned out your catalytic converter. Now, you can drive in peace.”

Another mystery solved. But my notebook is far from empty. In the shadows of the workshop, more cases always wait.

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