By Zephyria 
“What happened to your face?”
Chief Oh approached hurriedly, looking startled. Upon waking up this morning, the bruising and swelling had worsened. From the moment he arrived at work, everyone he encountered asked what had happened to his face. Park Tae-min even made a tasteless joke, asking if he had finally been beaten up or if someone had finally punished him for his arrogance. Despite the joke, Tae-min was inwardly worried that he might have been ambushed.
“I had a minor car accident.”
“That doesn’t look minor. Shouldn’t you be hospitalized? Did you get a check-up? What about the car?”
“They said I’m fine. I left the car for repairs, but it looks like it’ll take a few days.”
During the fight, the car windows had shattered and the side mirrors were smashed. Im Gyeong’s secretary mentioned that the car had been dropped off, but Hee-shin didn’t yet know the exact extent of the damage or the cost of repairs. The secretary, who had been unreachable for a while, surprisingly appeared early in the morning via helicopter.
When the helicopter landed in an open lot near the hospital, Hee-shin thought there was a critical emergency patient, but it had come to pick up Im Gyeong. If you were coming, you should have come yesterday, he thought. He ended up being swept along and boarding the craft, but since he had a fear of heights, it wasn’t a pleasant experience. When Im Gyeong suggested dropping him off in the courtyard of the Prosecutors’ Office, Hee-shin had actually screamed, asking if he was insane.
It was likely a joke, but for a moment, a chill ran down his spine. It was a scene he didn’t even want to imagine.
“That could have been a disaster. It’s a relief it only ended like this. Goodness.”
“Does it look hideous?”
“Hideous? Absolutely. Assistant Baek, look at the Prosecutor’s face. He’s a complete mess, isn’t he?”
Assistant Baek Young-mi replied calmly.
“He’s still more handsome than you, Chief.”
Hee-shin shrugged, and Chief Oh joked back, “Hey, I think I’ve still got him beat.” With that, she slid over and left the materials he had requested. Hee-shin sat down and silently unfolded them. What Chief Oh had provided were photos of the visitor list from the bar, Oasis, taken with a mobile phone.
Oasis, a high-end bar, was where Kim Hae-sung and Kim Min-jeong, who lived on the fourth floor, used to work. Rumors circulated that there was a separate area in the basement where VIPs met in secret. Perhaps that was why Oasis had managed to cleverly evade the law despite numerous controversies and scandals.
“I had a really hard time getting this. Someone close to Kim Hae-sung took these quickly, risking his life while cleaning the CEO’s office. He insisted that he doesn’t believe Kim Hae-sung committed suicide. He begged me to make sure the truth is revealed.”
“Anything else besides the ledger?”
Chief Oh lowered her voice significantly.
“It’s not certain… but they say there might be recordings in the rooms.”
“Recordings?”
“Apparently, someone found something while cleaning there two years ago—under a sofa. It was a tiny chip, no bigger than a fingernail. They threw it away without thinking at the time, but it seems it was a listening device.”
“Did they tell anyone else about this?”
“No. They’ve kept their mouth shut until now.”
When he had visited before, the general manager had claimed that no records of visiting guests were ever kept. Yet, surprisingly, the ledger contained detailed handwritten records of visits. Which month, which day, who entered, and who they met in which room. Given this, it wouldn’t be strange if recordings existed.
The photos weren’t numerous, so they weren’t a huge help, but they served as confirmation that the ledger existed.
Then, he spotted a familiar name.
“Ren?”
It was the name Im Gyeong used during his time as a model.
Right, that was where he first met Im Gyeong. If the name was written here, did it mean there was someone he met that day? His finger, which had been moving across the page, stopped.
Nam Gil-young?
Without hesitation, Hee-shin pulled out a stack of documents beside him. Among the transaction records of a paper company operated by Guyoung Construction, there was a record of a large sum of money being deposited to a person named Nam Gil-young. As he tapped the name, Chief Oh chimed in.
“…That’s Assemblyman Bae’s chief aide.”
“Yes. That’s right.”
Assemblyman Bae was currently known to be a figure who had received illegal campaign funds from Guyoung Construction. Why would Im Gyeong have met Assemblyman Bae’s aide? Moreover, the meeting took place before the incident broke out. On the surface, there were plenty of reasons to justify it. Im Gyeong’s mother was a famous investor, and his father was a tycoon. From the perspective of political and business circles, he was a highly desirable contact.
Even so, questions remained.
The key was what the two of them discussed inside…
“When is Nam Gil-young’s summons date?”
“Friday.”
He thought deeply and closed the documents. This was merely reference material, and since it was a photo and not the original, the opponent could simply claim it was fabricated. However, the actual ledger would likely contain all sorts of things—secretive details about who was connected to whom.
“If we only had a warrant, we could go in and scrape everything clean.”
As Chief Oh said, the best option would be to obtain a search and seizure warrant for Oasis, but currently, the possibility was slim.
“Should I go and steal it?”
At Hee-shin’s words, Chief Oh chuckled.
But when Hee-shin didn’t laugh, her expression gradually turned serious.
“…You were joking, right?”
“…….”
“Geez, our Prosecutor makes some really terrifying jokes. Haha.”
When he didn’t answer, Chief Oh repeatedly warned him that he must absolutely not do such a thing. Hee-shin reassured her not to worry. How on earth would he rob that place? There were dozens, perhaps more, of CCTVs starting from the entrance. The security would be tight. Thus, sneaking in and stealing it was practically impossible.
Giving up on that, he examined other materials, but other thoughts continued to swirl in his head. He let out a sigh and locked eyes with Chief Oh, whose gaze seemed to be monitoring him. You must absolutely, absolutely not do anything strange. Since she seemed to be warning him, he nodded in agreement.
The air in the conference room was heavy. A flow chart of the construction company’s funds was displayed on the wall screen, and the prosecutors and investigators were busy focusing on the screen. Dozens of accounts and corporate names were intertwined like a spiderweb; red lines indicated borrowed-name accounts secured by the prosecution, and blue lines indicated fund movements that still required verification.
Meanwhile, Chief Prosecutor Jo Cheol-woong, who was reviewing the data, called out to Hee-shin.
“Kang Hee-shin, what happened to your face?”
“I had a minor fender bender.”
“Who was it?”
Silence fell over the conference room. Though no one showed it, everyone knew how much of a ripple this case would cause. They also knew the risks involved. It was to the point where they would repeatedly warn their families whenever they took on a case like this: never open the door to a stranger, and never accept money. Because such things could become a pretext for someone to seize control of their lives.
Hee-shin continued his explanation, pointing at the screen with a laser pointer.
“The currently identified scale of the construction company’s slush fund is 45 billion won. Of this, circumstances suggest that about 12 billion won flowed toward members of the National Assembly.”
The screen transitioned.
Photos of National Assembly aides, sponsorship association officials, and representatives of local district companies appeared in sequence.
“As you can see, they chose to bypass detection using various pretexts, such as sponsorship funds, event sponsorship, policy research service fees, and local development consulting fees.”
“A typical money laundering method,” Prosecutor Jang Seon-woo muttered.
“This matches the testimony of Financial Director Kwak Seong-tae and the results of the account tracking. In particular, fund movements were concentrated in the month immediately preceding last year’s local elections.”
The Chief Prosecutor nodded.
“What about Director Kwak?”
“Fortunately, he is cooperative. We are also ensuring his protection.”
“Shouldn’t we be keeping him with us?”
At Deputy Chief Kim Young-il’s remark, Chief Prosecutor Jo sighed. Currently, the prosecution didn’t have the confidence to protect him perfectly. Even if they put him in a detention center, there was no guarantee he would be safe there. Considering the opponent was Guyoung Construction, hiding him away for the time being might be the best option.
“Why keep talking about something that’s settled? Next?”
At Chief Prosecutor Jo’s words, Deputy Chief Kim Young-il looked awkward.
As the next screen appeared, the faces of National Assembly members emerged. Starting with Assemblyman Bae, there were six in total from both ruling and opposition parties.
“They fight so much in the Assembly, but they’re so friendly when it comes to skimming off the top. Truly.”
The atmosphere loosened briefly at someone’s mocking comment.
“The search and seizure is already complete, and we have secured all key evidence, including the key witness, the Financial Director. From now on, we need to enter the stage of discussing how to prove the charges and block the opponent’s counterattacks.”
Another prosecutor who had been listening spoke up.
“I heard Chairman Shim’s legal team was formed today.”
Chief Prosecutor Jo’s gaze shifted toward him.
“How many?”
“Ten confirmed so far. All from Jisung.”
Everyone let out a low sigh. Jisung was the largest law firm in the country, known for being as ruthless as they were competent. A few years ago, a former Prosecutor General joined them last year, which had caused quite a stir among prosecutors for a while. The possibility of him stepping forward could not be entirely ruled out.
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Don’t start with the bad luck talk already.”
“I’m sorry.” The Deputy Chief Prosecutor bowed his head in apology, but the sunken atmosphere did not easily recover. Everyone was likely thinking the same thing. Jeongwan-ye-u—the preferential treatment of former officials. The pressure of having to fight against a superior they once served certainly existed.
The meeting ended in a somewhat subdued mood, and most gathered in the lounge before returning to their offices. While they were getting coffee, Park Tae-min joined them late. At that moment, Jang Seon-woo’s name came up in conversation.
“But isn’t Jang Seon-woo amazing? If it were me, I think I would have backed out.”
Another prosecutor chimed in.
“My thoughts exactly. There are rumors everywhere that he’ll enter politics after the Prosecutor General’s term ends.”
As they said, rumors continued to circulate that Prosecutor General Jang In-cheol, Jang Seon-woo’s father, was being mentioned as the next Minister of Justice. General Jang, who had stubbornly denied it at first, had recently changed his stance, saying he might do it if the opportunity arose, making it a hot topic for a while. In this situation, everyone wondered if indicting six National Assembly members would actually benefit General Jang.
Then, Park Tae-min, who had been listening, cut in.
“You’re all missing the point. Think about it. For a politician, the portfolio is important. What achievements have I accomplished? It’s important to create a single line worth putting on a resume. Just wait until this case is resolved. Our General will shoot to fame in one go.”
Some agreed, while others countered that it wasn’t like that.
Then, one prosecutor who had been listening quietly spoke up cautiously.
“By the way, has anyone here been contacted by Guyoung Construction?”
The atmosphere plummeted at the abrupt question. Everyone just cleared their throats, and no one spoke up readily. Deputy Chief Kim Young-il, who had been listening in silence, crushed his empty cup and shoved it into the trash can.
“Behave yourselves. Don’t ruin your lives by greedily snapping up whatever they give you.”
“Yes,” they all answered, but their hearts were complicated. It might have been even more so after seeing Kang Hee-shin’s appearance. Concern and fear, perhaps unconscious, were infiltrating among them.
As he walked outside, Chief Oh waved urgently from a distance. “Prosecutor! Prosecutor!”
“You need to go to the first floor. Some man has arrived with a car!”
His voice was quite loud, drawing the attention of those around them.
However, Hee-shin couldn’t quite understand what he meant.
“A car? What car? Green tea?”
“No. A car. Vroom vroom, a car you drive.”
The gathered prosecutors also took an interest. “Did you get a new car? You said you had an accident, did you use the chance to change it?”
There was no way. He had planned to use public transportation while his car was being repaired, and he hadn’t even applied for a rental from the insurance company… He hurried down to the lobby. As he scanned the area, a man in a pitch-black suit approached and gave a polite greeting.
“I was sent by President Im.”
President Im…? Im Gyeong? His face crumpled the moment he heard it. When he asked what he meant, the man led the way. Following him outside, he saw people gathered in a circle. He had a bad feeling. Just in case, he asked if that was it, and the man nodded.
His face turned pale.
The words “Im Gyeong, you crazy bastard” escaped his lips automatically.
In the midst of this, a call came in from an unknown number. Fearing it might be a threatening call, he moved far away to answer it. However, an unexpected voice came through the receiver. “Prosecutor!” The man calling him cheerfully was none other than Choi Yoon-oh.