Prosecutor Kim Seo-Jin - Chapter 23

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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A Friend (7)
Ji Dong-min, who had been backing away hesitantly, opened his mouth in desperation.
“Oh, it’s a misunderstanding. Y-yes, that’s right. A misunderstanding!”
“A misunderstanding? Fine, then explain yourself.”
In a situation that should have been tense, the bureaucratic tone only made it more chilling.
At Kim Gwan-yong’s words, Ji Dong-min flinched.
But even now, despite the fear and dread, I had to find a way out.
Ji Dong-min swallowed hard and began racking his brain for an excuse.
Then, as if remembering something, he spoke rapidly.
“I-I wanted to set a trap!”
“A trap?”
Ji Dong-min continued, his voice desperate as if fighting for his life.
“Park Sang-young is a cunning bastard! I thought if he caught wind of an investigation, he’d immediately cover his tracks!”
“So you leaked information?”
“I thought if I leaked intelligence, at least he would give me information in return….”
Ji Dong-min’s words trailed off.
Seo Jin, who had paused the recording file, played it again.
Park Sang-young’s voice came through the phone.
-Alright. From now on, let me know whenever the Prosecution Service uncovers something. Then I’ll get you transferred out of Dongnam County at the next personnel reshuffle.
Ji Dong-min’s eyes began to tremble.
“…S-stop. I said it was a trap.”
But Seo Jin didn’t budge, and the recording continued.
-The only reason you’ve been wagging your tail to Yoon Hwan is one thing, right? You want to leave Dongnam County. I’ll talk to him well.
Finally, Ji Dong-min glared at Seo Jin with bloodshot eyes and raised his voice.
“Turn it off, you bastard!”
-Dongnam County is bye-bye.
“It’s a trap! A trap! How many times do I have to say it!”
Finally, Ji Dong-min’s parting words played.
-Sang-young, go carefully. And don’t worry about the investigation. I’ll delay it as much as I can. I’m your lawyer.
Ji Dong-min’s voice was warm to anyone’s ears, filled with sincerity.
If this was acting, he should abandon the Prosecution Service and knock on Hollywood’s door.
Seo Jin stopped the recording file and turned to Ji Dong-min.
“It’s over.”
Ji Dong-min’s face was rapidly changing.
His eyes darted back and forth as his tense fists clenched and unclenched.
He was still searching for a way out.
At the same time, Kim Gwan-yong threw the lighter he had been holding.
Thwack!
The lighter struck Ji Dong-min’s chest and bounced off.
Ji Dong-min’s eyes widened as he stared at the lighter rolling across the floor.
Kim Gwan-yong would never believe another word Ji Dong-min said from this point forward.
But.
“Sir, Director… Please believe me. This is a misunderstanding. I can explain everything. So…”
Ji Dong-min desperately tried to make excuses until the very end, but Kim Gwan-yong slowly rose to his feet, rolling up his sleeves.
“Seo Jin, Lee So-hee.”
“Yes.”
“Step outside.”
To reiterate, that toneless, businesslike voice in such a tense atmosphere was truly chilling.
As Lee So-hee slipped out of the office, she cast a glance back at Ji Dong-min.
Ji Dong-min now hung his head, looking as though he might burst into tears.
I recalled the face he’d made just moments before, the one he’d directed at Lee So-hee.
Perhaps that’s why—though it shouldn’t have been this way—there was something satisfying about it.
*
*
*
“Why did you do that?”
About five minutes had passed since we’d stepped outside.
Lee So-hee, who had been leaning against the hallway wall in silence, finally spoke up and asked.
“Do what?”
“The recording—did you really have to expose it right now? It makes it look like we targeted him.”
A junior prosecutor had suspected her senior, tailed him, and exposed his misconduct before the director.
It would be seen as pressing a gun barrel to the back of his head and pulling the trigger.
“We’re rolling stones, and Ji Dong-min is a stone that was already embedded. But when people see us, what will they say? Will they praise us as righteous and courageous prosecutors who even hold seniors accountable? No, they’ll criticize us. We moved too openly.”
Lee So-hee was worried.
In the worst case, she could even be expelled from her class year.
And yet.
“…Why are you so composed?”
Seo Jin remained calm.
A faint smile even played across his face.
Lee So-hee, watching Seo Jin intently, shook her head as if exasperated.
“Looking at that expression, it seems like everything will be fine. I’m starting to feel reassured too.”
“Everything will be fine. There’s no need to worry.”
“Huh?”
“I’m serious.”
There was a reason I had played the recording file before Kim Gwan-yong.
Because I understood his character.
-Kim Gwan-yong doesn’t make things bigger than they are.
-He doesn’t cover up mistakes committed by fellow prosecutors.
-He’s cautious by nature and considerate.
“By the way, do you know why Kim Gwan-yong was exiled to Dongnam County?”
A few years ago, there was a scandal involving a prosecutor that shook the nation.
A chief prosecutor had accepted a massive bribe from a real estate development company representative and covered up the investigation.
“That chief prosecutor ended up serving seven years in prison.”
“No way…”
“It’s true. Kim Gwan-yong, the senior prosecutor, was the one who caught him. He sent his superior to prison and faced all sorts of criticism for it, and that’s how he ended up in Dongnam County. A junior catching his senior—he’s already been through that. So do you really think he’d let us walk the same path? That doesn’t seem like his style at all, does it?”
Lee So-hee nodded, and Seo Jin’s voice continued quietly.
“From what I can tell, I think he’ll just take down Ji Dong-min and wrap it up quietly. If the senior prosecutor steps in directly, it’ll become a mess, so he’ll borrow Lee Myung-soo’s hand instead. He’ll say something like, ‘Handle the traffic control’…”
Lee So-hee let out a soft laugh.
“You’re talking like you’ve seen it happen.”
“Who knows.”
Seo Jin shrugged his shoulders.
It was just a simple prediction, but it didn’t seem like it would be far off the mark.
My instincts were as sharp as a finely honed blade.
Lee So-hee tapped Seo Jin’s shoulder lightly.
“If your prediction turns out wrong and you get exiled to the countryside, don’t worry. I’ll go with you. I’m a little fed up too.”
Just then, the door to the senior prosecutor’s office swung open.
It was Kim Gwan-yong, the senior prosecutor, who stepped out.
As Seo Jin and Lee So-hee, who had been leaning against the wall, quickly straightened up, Kim Gwan-yong opened his mouth.
“Let’s have a drink.”
*
*
*
“Order whatever you want to eat.”
It was the Hop House near the Prosecutor’s Office.
Kim Gwan-yong handed the menu to Seo Jin and Lee So-hee.
But it was an uncomfortable place, like sitting on pins and needles.
Ji Dong-min, the prosecutor directing the investigation, had been acting as a spy, and Park Sang-young, the investigation target, was destroying evidence after hearing the information.
Whatever they ordered, it felt like they’d choke on it.
When both remained silent, Kim Gwan-yong spoke.
“Chicken and beer—that works, right?”
“Yes.”
Having said that, Kim Gwan-yong ordered five beers and a bottle of soju.
Lee So-hee had beer; Seo Jin and Kim Gwan-yong had soju.
After that, except for Kim Gwan-yong occasionally tossing back sips of soju, it was quiet.
The silence was broken when the door to the Hop House suddenly swung open.
Lee Myung-soo, summoned by Kim Gwan-yong, entered.
He opened his mouth as he removed his jacket.
“My apologies. I’m a bit late. Huh? You two are here too?”
Lee Myung-soo had only just noticed Seo Jin and Lee So-hee.
But Lee So-hee’s eyes were wider with surprise than Lee Myung-soo’s blinking ones.
Lee So-hee’s gaze drifted slowly toward Seo Jin.
His voice echoed in her ears—the same words she’d overheard in the hallway.
“If the Chief Prosecutor steps in directly, it’ll cause too much noise. So he’ll borrow Lee Myung-soo’s hand instead.”
‘Is he serious?’
While Lee So-hee stood dazed, Lee Myung-soo took a seat beside the Chief Prosecutor and asked.
“Chief Prosecutor, why are these people…?”
Chief Prosecutor Kim Gwan-yong answered only by draining his soju glass.
Then Lee Myung-soo turned to Seo Jin with a question.
“Did you mess up?”
“Me? Did I?”
“Yeah, you.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then why was I dragged out at this hour, and you’re sitting right next to the Chief Prosecutor?”
Chief Prosecutor Kim Gwan-yong set down his glass and glared at Lee Myung-soo.
“Dragged out?”
“My apologies.”
“Never mind.”
Chief Prosecutor Kim Gwan-yong placed a glass in front of Lee Myung-soo, tilted the bottle, and continued.
“Someone caused trouble.”
“Chief Prosecutor, I’m not handling Kim Seo-jin anymore. That guy’s out of my hands now.”
“Not Kim Seo-jin. Ji Dong-min caused the trouble.”
Lee Myung-soo’s movements froze.
The playful chatter that had filled the air moments before vanished entirely.
He returned to that familiar, composed expression.
He drained his soju and opened his mouth.
“Dong-min?”
“Yes.”
Chief Prosecutor Kim Gwan-yong recounted what had happened.
As the dry account unfolded, Lee Myung-soo exhaled a heavy sigh.
“He’s still young. That’s probably why.”
Ji Dong-min had put on airs in front of Seo Jin and Lee So-hee, but he was only five years into his career.
“That kid must be regretting what he did. Thinking, ‘If I’d just turned a blind eye back then, I’d still be in Seoul.'”
Chief Prosecutor Kim Gwan-yong refilled Lee Myung-soo’s glass.
“Clean this up for me.”
At the Chief Prosecutor’s words, Lee So-hee let out a quiet cough.
Again, Seo Jin’s voice brushed against her ears.
“He says ‘clean this up’…”
Lee So-hee blinked and looked at Seo Jin.
‘…He got it right again?’
She’d thought Lee Myung-soo’s arrival could be coincidence, but even the conversation matched his prediction.
It wasn’t a joke—goosebumps actually prickled across my skin.
Now I felt like a skilled shaman reading the future.
Lee Myung-soo’s voice continued in the meantime.
“I’ll quietly take off my clothes.”
“Just do it yourself.”
Kim Gwan-yong, the chief prosecutor, nodded calmly, and Lee Myung-soo downed another glass of soju.
Then Lee Myung-soo’s gaze shifted to Seo Jin and Lee So-hee.
“You two, forget about this.”
“Yes, sir.”
“This is something only the chief prosecutor and we know about.”
I understood.
A newly appointed prosecutor recording a senior’s voice and leaking it would draw plenty of criticism.
Not many would view it favorably.
And the real Seo Jin beneath the surface was Seo Jun-kyung, a prosecutor who had been grinding through this profession for years.
Taking down a fifth-year prosecutor was nothing to boast about for him.
He’d simply removed an obstacle that kept interfering with the investigation.
Kim Gwan-yong clapped his hands together sharply.
It meant everyone should forget about this now.
Everyone nodded, and Kim Gwan-yong raised his glass and spoke.
“Let’s drink. Eat and forget.”
Four glasses clinked together.
The strong soju burned down my throat.
I glanced at Lee So-hee—she was quite the drinker.
Even now she was gulping it down without hesitation.
After drinking, Kim Gwan-yong picked up a chicken leg with tongs and placed it on the plates in front of Seo Jin and Lee So-hee.
“Eat.”
Lee Myung-soo laughed at the sight.
“You two should consider this an honor. The chief prosecutor’s chicken leg is something even the district chief doesn’t get.”
“Really?”
When Lee So-hee asked, Kim Gwan-yong nodded with a solemn expression.
*
*
*
“Bring me a lighter.”
Soju bottles were piled high on the table.
When the intoxication had risen slightly, Kim Gwan-yong gave Seo Jin a meaningful look.
“Let’s smoke a cigarette.”
Seo Jin grabbed the lighter and followed Kim Gwan-yong outside.
It was cold outside.
Winter was passing, but a crisp wind blew through the night.
Kim Gwan-yong, the chief prosecutor, lit a cigarette and opened his mouth.
“Kim.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m sorry. We need to drop the case. Information has already leaked through Ji Dong-min, hasn’t it? The construction site dust has already scattered. There’s no point in—”
Apology saturated Kim Gwan-yong’s voice.
He genuinely regretted having to shut down a case that two promising new prosecutors had thrown themselves into with such enthusiasm.
But then.
“We can do this.”
At the firm tone, Kim Gwan-yong’s gaze shifted to Seo Jin.
“Let me see it through to the end. No—please, let me finish this. I want to turn Park Sang-young’s arrogant voice from that recording into screams.”
It was a bold statement, one might say.
But there was conviction in those words.
Kim Gwan-yong exhaled cigarette smoke and chuckled softly.
“You think you can pull it off?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Right. I remember it too.”
Park Sang-young’s recorded voice—words directed at prosecutor Ji Dong-min, yet dripping with contempt for the entire Dongnam District Prosecutors’ Office.
Recalling that voice, Kim Gwan-yong’s eyes turned a cold, steely blue.
And he spoke in a low voice.
“…All right, go ahead. But if you’re going to do it, do it right.”
*
*
*
It was the next day.
Seo Jin climbed the dark stairwell of a three-story building in Dongnam County Market, where no light penetrated.
Upon reaching the third floor, I saw a nameplate reading “Congressman Eom Il-seop.”
Seo Jin pressed the phone to his ear.
“This is Kim Seo-jin, son of Kim Jun-man, representative of Jaejeong Construction. I’m calling because I have something to discuss regarding the Dongnam County Marine Park construction project. Would it be possible to meet with you?”
Word had already spread that the Prosecutor’s Office was digging into the Marine Park construction because of prosecutor Ji Dong-min.
Yet here came the son of Jaejeong Construction’s representative.
Congressman Eom Il-seop’s voice flowed smoothly.
-Ah, yes. When would be convenient for you?
“Now.”
Seo Jin opened the door and stepped inside.
The secretary sitting in the lobby startled.
“W-who are you?”
“I have an appointment.”
“Pardon?”
Seo Jin proceeded without hesitation toward Congressman Eom Il-seop’s office.
The secretary moved urgently ahead of him, opened the door, and spoke.
“Sir, Congressman. You have a visitor.”
As the secretary spoke, I stepped out from behind her.
Congressman Eom Il-seop, his jowls sagging, blinked in confusion as I bowed respectfully.
“Prosecutor Kim Seo-jin from the Dongnam District Prosecutors’ Office.”
“A, a prosecutor? But you just said you were the son of Jaejeong Construction….”
“I thought you wouldn’t see me if I said I was a prosecutor.”
I drew a subtle smile across my face.
Congressman Eom Il-seop—the first rung on the ladder to seizing power.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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