Prosecutor Kim Seo-Jin - Chapter 3

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

Rebirth (1)
The car trunk slammed shut with a heavy thud.
Seo Jin turned his body toward his father and mother.
“I should get going now.”
His mother’s expression, which had been smiling quietly, hardened.
Seo Jin seemed to be suffering from amnesia.
The thought of him going all the way to Gangwon Province alone felt like abandoning a child by the waterside.
“Are you sure? Should Mom come with you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really sure?”
“Yes.”
“Call Mom if anything comes up. Come home and rest if you have time.”
His mother continued with worried words.
“Really, I’m fine. I’ll call often.”
Seo Jin offered the warmest smile he could muster.
Though she was not his biological mother.
Still, he thought it only proper courtesy to the original owner of this body.
“Ahem.”
His father cleared his throat.
Then he slipped several fifty-thousand-won notes into Seo Jin’s pocket.
“Treat yourself to something delicious on the way.”
“I’ll call once I arrive.”
Seo Jin climbed into the car.
A domestic mid-size sedan—a gift from his mother when he was appointed as a prosecutor.
Apparently, his mother had originally wanted to buy him a Mercedes-Benz E-Class, but Seo Jin had adamantly refused.
Seo Jin started the engine and pressed the accelerator.
As the car smoothly exited the parking lot, Seo Jin turned the steering wheel and glanced at the rearview mirror.
His father and mother still stood in their place.
Waving their hands toward his departing vehicle.
Seo Jin smiled bitterly.
‘I’m sorry….’
*
*
*
Dongnam County, Gangwon Province is home to forty thousand residents and carries a strong image of a fishing village.
However, with the recent expansion of national highways, accessibility has improved, and the city is promoting its brand through various festivals.
The Dongnam Branch of Gangwon Regional Prosecutor’s Office is located here.
Though merely a branch office, it boasts a substantial scale with thirty prosecutors and investigates and prosecutes diverse cases ranging from cutting-edge crimes to environmental offenses.
Yet prosecutors avoided this place.
Most prosecutors stationed here were those who had been destroyed after clashing with powerful figures—politicians, entrepreneurs, and the like.
Outside, this place was called Dongnam County’s place of exile.
The car’s engine fell silent, and the world grew still.
I stepped out of the vehicle and headed toward the trunk.
After slinging the Boston bag over my shoulder, I lifted my gaze to the sky above.
A fifteen-story apartment building came into view.
This was my modest studio apartment.
Standing before the entrance, I entered the passcode my younger brother had taught me: 1018.
As the door emitted a soft beep and swung open, I stepped inside cautiously.
A 34-pyeong apartment—I set my bag down and surveyed the interior.
The sofa, television, and dining table were all high-end pieces, unmistakably bearing my mother’s refined taste.
‘Is this French-made as well?’
It probably was.
My mother’s aesthetic sensibilities were unwavering.
What caught my eye most were the books scattered throughout the space.
Stacks adorned the area before the sofa, beside the dining table, and even filled the bathroom.
I settled onto the sofa and picked up a book.
I wanted to shake off the fatigue from my recent arrival and understand what the previous me had been reading.
But in that instant, the world drained of color and became monochrome.
‘Again….’
This had been happening since my rebirth.
The world would turn to grayscale, and visions would surface in my mind with unsettling frequency.
Just like now….
“Debut? I’ve got it. A traffic fatality case. The bereaved family wants severe punishment, but honestly, I’m not sure….”
I stood by the living room window, speaking with someone on the phone.
“Right, let’s talk later then.”
I ended the call and settled onto the sofa, picking up a book.
Then I began reading quietly.
That was all.
The world regained its colors, and in my hands lay the very book I had seen in the vision.
I closed the book and furrowed my brow.
‘This monochrome world….’
At first, I had dismissed it as a hallucination and thought nothing of it.
But the phenomenon repeated itself, and when I investigated its nature, I discovered it revealed the past.
Like psychometry—reading the memories embedded within objects….
So I had pondered it.
What was this monochrome world?
Was I losing my mind?
But no answer had emerged.
Still a mystery….
I organized the hypotheses I had constructed so far.
—I can’t control the monochromatic world.
—It bursts forth unpredictably whenever I touch an object.
—I can see the past.
—I decided to call it either the monochromatic world or psychometry.
Having thought this far, Seo Jin shook his head.
‘Enough.’
Pondering it further wouldn’t yield any answers.
Time would naturally resolve what couldn’t be solved now. Seo Jin stopped thinking and stretched out on the sofa.
‘Tomorrow….’
Tomorrow I would report to the Local Prosecutor’s Office.
My first day as Kim Seo-jin, not Seo Jun-kyung.
I had already committed all the faces and names to memory.
As long as I was careful and there were no unexpected variables, I could navigate this naturally.
Seo Jin drew a faint smile.
I had clawed my way to becoming a prosecutor through relentless studying, only to have everything end when I was accused of sexual assault.
I thought I would never wear a prosecutor’s robes again, yet here I was, becoming a prosecutor once more….
‘I’m actually a little excited.’
*
*
*
“All your injuries have healed?”
“Yes.”
The next day, the seventh floor of the Local Prosecutor’s Office.
Seo Jin stood before the chief prosecutor of Dongnam County.
Chief Prosecutor Jeon Dong-guk was someone Seo Jin knew of.
The man who had rejected tens of billions in contract offers from S Law Firm, one of the largest firms in the country.
The principled prosecutor who had grabbed the ruling party leader’s son by the collar and thrown him in prison when everyone said it couldn’t be done.
I had always wanted to meet him and was genuinely curious about what kind of person he was.
Yet this chief prosecutor hadn’t even glanced at me since I entered—he was simply trimming his nails.
Then he said….
“All right, then go.”
“Pardon?”
“What? Do you have something else to say?”
There was no conviction in the chief prosecutor’s voice.
The principled prosecutor I had imagined was not here.
Stepping into the hallway, Seo Jin then paid his respects to the vice chief prosecutor and the chief judge of the Criminal Division Four.
Yet the atmosphere was the same.
They all seemed like people who were simply living because they were born, sitting in their chairs out of habit after coming to work.
‘Room 602.’
Shortly after, Seo Jin walked down the corridor and stopped before an office.
I checked the office number once more while looking at the organizational chart on my phone.
This was Lee Myung-soo’s office, where I had learned practical work during my apprenticeship.
As I opened the door and stepped inside, the administrative staff member was sitting alone.
When she saw my face, her eyes widened in surprise.
“You’re starting work today? I heard you were quite ill. Are you feeling better now? Where? What was wrong with you?”
“I was a bit under the weather.”
I found the desk with my name on it.
An apprentice’s desk was always tucked away in the corner.
I set my bag down there and asked, “Where is the prosecutor?”
“He hasn’t arrived yet.”
The administrative staff member answered lightly and shifted her gaze to the monitor.
She didn’t appear to be working.
There was a ninety-nine percent chance she was online shopping.
I exhaled softly.
When I was in Seoul, I had been so buried in work that I developed dry eye syndrome, and arriving at dawn and leaving at dawn had become my daily routine.
But this place was different.
Excessively leisurely.
Of course, the reason was predictable.
This was a place of exile.
Once you entered, you couldn’t leave.
Even if you worked hard, people believed that without luck or connections, there was no way to escape this place.
The office door creaked open.
Lee Myung-soo entered with disheveled hair.
He glanced at me briefly.
“You’re here? I won’t say anything about the time off, but you need to prepare for your debut case, right?”
I recalled what I had seen through psychometry.
The previous me had been preparing a traffic accident fatality case as my debut.
It was just the right size for a new prosecutor’s debut case.
Lee Myung-soo’s voice continued.
“I’m really asking you—don’t embarrass me. I already hate being a prosecutor. If you make me look bad, I’ll really quit, you know? Then my daughter, who’s about to start high school, will have to drop out of cram school. So do your best.”
“Yes.”
“If you don’t know something, ask. Don’t act like you know everything on your own.”
“Yes.”
I simply answered “Yes, yes.”
But Lee Myung-soo stared at me intently.
He didn’t like me.
He didn’t like that this apprentice had been absent for three weeks before my debut, but what bothered him most was that my uncle was a prosecutor general.
He would end his prosecutor career at this branch office, but I would undoubtedly rise through the ranks with my uncle’s hand to guide me.
He envied that, and his envy manifested as resentment.
I envied that, and that feeling manifested as resentment.
“The punk barely opens his mouth to answer….”
Lee Myung-soo slammed open the desk drawer and pulled out the case file, slapping it down on the desk.
“Lay it out.”
A woman in her forties, drunk and heading home, had been struck by a vehicle and killed in a traffic accident.
The incident occurred at 1:40 AM.
The driver was operating an SUV and had maintained the speed limit of 80 kilometers per hour.
Defense counsel’s argument:
It was early morning on a desolate rural highway.
Though it was a two-lane road, there were no other vehicles present.
The road curved sharply to the right, making it difficult to spot the victim.
The victim’s height of 160 centimeters made her difficult to see.
The victim had emerged from an alley and was walking on the shoulder rather than the sidewalk—also difficult to spot.
It was an act of God. Not guilty.
Lee Myung-soo crossed his arms and perched half his weight on the desk.
“A textbook case, isn’t it? Paint me a picture of how this will play out in court. You weren’t just lying in a hospital bed getting injections for three weeks, were you?”
I answered immediately.
“The Prosecution’s Office indicted based on the driver’s breach of duty of care, while the defense argues it was an act of God. In such cases, the prosecutor must reasonably prove it was not an act of God.”
Lee Myung-soo flinched.
He’d intended to grill someone who’d just shown his face after three weeks, but the words flowed like water.
Yet he quickly hardened his expression and asked.
“Expected sentence?”
According to law, causing death through a traffic accident carries imprisonment of up to five years or a fine of up to twenty million won.
But judges rarely impose the full five years.
It depends on whether there was a settlement and whether any of the twelve categories of gross negligence under the Special Act on Handling Traffic Accidents apply….
“If a settlement is reached, it would be one year imprisonment with two years suspended. However, since the bereaved family is demanding severe punishment, I believe he’ll receive around one year.”
I was right again.
He’d been ready to nitpick if I was wrong, but it was flawless.
Lee Myung-soo ran his hand through his disheveled hair, chewing his lip.
“You punk… Did you get private tutoring from your uncle for three weeks?”
Then something suddenly occurred to Lee Myung-soo.
He asked urgently.
“Did you visit the scene?”
“Pardon?”
“You didn’t, did you?”
Prosecutors rarely visit crime scenes.
“…No.”
Lee Myung-soo’s face showed he’d finally found his opening.
“A punk whose ink on his credentials hasn’t even dried, and you’re already turning your back on the scene? When you’re new, you go out and see it yourself! You think cases are simple? You think the courtroom is a joke? Get out now! Go see the scene and come back!”
*
*
*
I arrived at the scene before I’d even had time to acclimate to the atmosphere at the Prosecutor’s Office.
I had no objections.
In fact, I was grateful.
I loved visiting crime scenes, so I would have stopped by even without being asked.
The chill and eerie quality of a scene, the inexplicable tension and rhythm—it was entirely different from photographs, and within it, I could uncover reversals and contradictions.
The scene was quiet.
Only the chirping of birds could be heard.
I surveyed the road while imagining the situation at the time.
The SUV had been traveling at 80 kilometers per hour when it encountered a sharp curve.
The moment I formed that image, I narrowed my eyes.
‘The driver came through here at 80 kilometers per hour and took a sharp curve?’
That made no sense.
The road was wide, but it was a sharp curve—the normal response would be to reduce speed.
Yet the driver had maintained that velocity.
I examined the surroundings again.
Traces of the accident remained on the road—shards of glass and debris.
I knelt on one knee, gripping a piece of glass in my hand as I stared ahead.
The impact had occurred here, and the vehicle had ricocheted that distance.
‘The driver had exited the vehicle and….’
It was at that moment I was reconstructing the incident.
The world lost its color, and my psychometry ability awakened.

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