Prosecutor Kim Seo-Jin - Chapter 32

—————

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

—————

Childish (5)
*
*
*
“You said his name was Seo Jin?”
“Yes.”
The Chief Prosecutor of Criminal Division 1 at the Dongnam District Prosecutors’ Office was looking down at the parking lot.
Yoon Ki-soo, the representative of Landwood, could be seen being dragged out by investigators.
“The fool has no contingency plan.”
They hadn’t obtained a warrant.
No special evidence had emerged either.
Yet they’d brought him in through emergency arrest.
“…But what if he resolves this on his own?”
At the voice that reached him, the Chief Prosecutor of Criminal Division 1 turned his body.
A prosecutor could be seen sitting on the sofa.
The same man who had told the Chief Prosecutor of Criminal Division 1 last time that “the possibility is zero.”
The Chief Prosecutor picked up a cigarette and asked.
“What if he resolves it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I hadn’t considered that possibility. I only thought it was impossible.”
The real estate fraud scheme had been decimated, and now they’d emergency arrested its representative.
All of it was the work of that man Seo Jin.
He was acting recklessly without thinking of the consequences.
If anyone else had acted that way, he would have cursed them out, but Seo Jin had shown much over this time.
So the thought crossed his mind: “Perhaps… he might actually pull it off?”
The Chief Prosecutor exhaled cigarette smoke and spoke.
“We’ll have to take it back.”
“Take it back?”
The prosecutor sitting on the sofa was startled, and the Chief Prosecutor grinned widely and nodded.
“This is our case. We didn’t hand it over, did we? To be precise, Criminal Division 4 is just assisting us. Once it looks like it’ll be resolved smoothly, we can just slip it back over then.”
The prosecutor licked his dry lips.
It was truly petty and dirty scheming.
He didn’t understand how someone capable of such childish thinking had made it all the way to Dongnam County, but the prosecutor nodded anyway.
Raising objections here would only make things tedious.
So he smiled and spoke.
“Impressive, sir.”
“Right?”
*
*
*
“…You spoke about the basic planning proposal as if it were already finalized. You admit that, don’t you?”
We were in the Interrogation Room.
Lee So-hee’s question hung in the air, but Yoon Ki-soo kept his mouth firmly shut.
“Yoon Ki-soo? I don’t know what you’ve seen in movies or dramas, but the right to remain silent isn’t some magic shield. It can be misinterpreted as an admission of guilt.”
“When will my lawyer arrive? We’ll talk then.”
It was the first time Yoon Ki-soo had spoken.
Dragged all the way to the Interrogation Room, yet he wasn’t trembling.
If anything, he was arrogant.
Lee So-hee flipped through Yoon Ki-soo’s documents methodically.
-Operating illegal gambling sites and tax evasion.
-Organizing criminal syndicates and group assault.
-Fraud.
-Voice phishing.
A worn-out thug who’d put his hands on anything if there was money in it.
Lee So-hee nodded.
“Fine then.”
She covered the documents and was about to stand when Yoon Ki-soo’s voice cut through.
“But miss, don’t you serve meals here? I’m hungry. Can I order something for eight thousand won?”
A power play—signaling his dominance in this psychological duel with the prosecutor, asserting control.
Criminals who’d committed heinous acts typically pulled this kind of stunt.
Lee So-hee’s eyes turned glacial, but Yoon Ki-soo remained composed.
He crossed his legs and licked his lips.
“You don’t like being called ‘miss’? Should I say ‘female prosecutor’ instead? God, the way you’re staring at me is making me nervous. Why don’t you just call that male prosecutor? The handsome one who visited our company.”
Lee So-hee pushed herself up from the table with both hands.
Her gaze was frozen steel, but Yoon Ki-soo was actually smiling.
The expression of someone whose provocation had landed.
Lee So-hee leaned toward him slowly, her voice dropping.
“Female prosecutor? Miss?”
“….”
“I don’t care what a bastard like you calls me, but you didn’t brush your teeth, did you? Your breath smells like shit.”
“…!”
Yoon Ki-soo’s face twisted violently.
Lee So-hee smiled faintly and straightened her posture.
Then.
“We’ll continue when your lawyer arrives. I’d really appreciate it if you’d gargle before then. I can buy you some mouthwash if you’d like. Should I?”
*
*
*
-The doors open.
The elevator doors slid apart.
Choi Jang-hyun, Yoon Ki-soo’s attorney, stepped into the elevator and twisted his wrist to check the time.
4:10 PM.
He exhaled a low sigh before pressing the button for the first floor.
The elevator descended smoothly.
And then.
-The doors are opening.
As the elevator doors slid open, Choi Jang-hyun furrowed his brow.
Lee Myung-soo, the prosecutor who had handled Seo Jin’s case, stood before him.
Lee Myung-soo raised his hand slightly in greeting and spoke.
“I wanted to talk to you about something for a moment.”
Choi Jang-hyun glanced at his wristwatch and opened his mouth.
“We should have time to grab coffee at the convenience store, but you’re buying.”
“I may not have money to buy a house, but I’ve got money for coffee.”
It was under a parasol in front of the convenience store.
“You don’t like defending that bastard either, do you?”
Lee Myung-soo set a coffee down in front of Choi Jang-hyun and spoke.
Choi Jang-hyun was formerly a prosecutor.
A man who had been exiled to Dongnam County, endured for a few months, then hung up his badge to settle in as an attorney.
At Lee Myung-soo’s words, Choi Jang-hyun let out a small laugh.
“You’re telling me to refuse because I don’t like it? You don’t know Article 3, Section 19, Paragraph 1 of the Attorney Ethics Code?”
Attorney Ethics Code
-An attorney shall not refuse to accept a case solely on the grounds that the client or the nature of the case is subject to criticism from the general public.
Lee Myung-soo shook his head.
“Who actually follows an ethics code like that?”
“Money talks. There’s no client in Dongnam County who pays as well as this one.”
Lee Myung-soo slid a cigarette across the table toward Choi Jang-hyun.
Choi Jang-hyun placed the cigarette between his lips.
Lee Myung-soo pulled out a lighter and lit his cigarette, then made his request.
“Just go home today. Could you come to the District Prosecution Office tomorrow instead?”
“Tomorrow?”
Choi Jang-hyun exhaled cigarette smoke and furrowed his brow.
He couldn’t understand what he was saying.
Lee Myung-soo nodded while smoking his cigarette.
“I’m not saying don’t defend him. Just delay it by one day. If you go now, all you’ll do is show your face and reassure the client anyway.”
“….”
“So I’d appreciate it if you’d rest today and come tomorrow.”
Choi Jang-hyun narrowed his eyes and stared at Lee Myung-soo.
“…What are you plotting?”
“Huh?”
“What is it?”
“I’m not entirely sure either. But if I had to guess, it seems like the Chief Prosecutor is planning to leave this place.”
Choi Jang-hyun’s movements came to an abrupt halt.
He sat lost in thought for a long moment, oblivious to the cigarette burning down between his fingers.
Then he asked slowly.
“The Chief Prosecutor?”
“Yeah.”
Apparently, the Chief Prosecutor—who had been dead inside, disappointed by the world all this time—was finally stirring to action.
At those words, Choi Jang-hyun burst into laughter.
“Then ethics charter or whatever—we have to help him.”
“Thanks, hyung.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s like watching shells rain down on Seoul in real-time, isn’t it? I should grab some popcorn—I’ll munch away while watching those bastards panic.”
Lee Myung-soo felt the breeze wash over him and turned his head quietly.
Meeting with Choi Jang-hyun had been at Seo Jin’s request.
I wasn’t sure what Seo Jin was thinking when he made this request, but I had a feeling that this tangled mess would unravel far more easily than expected.
Then Choi Jang-hyun picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts.
He pressed the call button and brought the phone to his ear.
“This is Choi Jang-hyun. Oh, I’m so sorry. I have a funeral to attend. Since there’s nothing to do today anyway, I’ll visit you tomorrow.”
*
*
*
“Tch!”
In the office of Yoon Ki-soo, the representative of the real estate fraud scheme Landwood.
Han Sang-jun, having ended his call with Choi Jang-hyun, hurled his phone down roughly.
His face was twisted with rage.
‘A funeral?’
Bullshit.
He could feel the lawyer trying to dodge the case.
‘Why?’
He was paying good money—there was no reason to avoid the case.
This was the time to wag his tail and demand even more.
‘But why!’
Suddenly, Seo Jin’s face flashed through Han Sang-jun’s mind.
It felt like the lawyer was dodging the case because of Seo Jin.
It felt like that vicious bastard was pulling strings from behind the scenes.
‘It doesn’t make sense!’
No matter how much of a prosecutor he was, he was still a green rookie.
He’d only just become a prosecutor—he should be wiping his seniors’ asses and running errands.
‘But how!’
He knew it didn’t make sense.
But if it was that bastard, it just might be possible.
Those eyes and that demeanor—he looked like someone who’d been grinding through this world for at least ten years.
Han Sang-jun opened his laptop and searched for Seo Jin’s name.
Articles came pouring out.
A harrowing insurance fraud case that nearly spiraled into mystery, Prosecutor Seo Jin viewed with suspicion
Prosecutor Seo Jin resolves Yoo A-sung’s resentment
Han Sang-jun’s lips went dry.
With so many articles, he seemed like a truly formidable figure.
Han Sang-jun’s mind grew turbulent.
And his gaze shifted toward the bookshelf.
‘What should I do?’
Han Sang-jun exhaled a sigh, rose from his seat, and walked toward the bookshelf.
He pulled out the Bible in the center and opened it.
Instead of scripture, dozens of shell accounts were visible.
Accounts where the victims’ money had been hidden away.
Should he end up in prison on fraud charges, the accounts ensured he wouldn’t have to return the money, and they were insurance to live lavishly after his release.
Han Sang-jun’s expression, holding the accounts, transformed into one of greed.
*
*
*
“You’re here?”
It was Lee So-hee’s office at the Dongnam District Prosecutors’ Office.
Seo Jin stood beside Lee So-hee, who was pouring coffee into a mug.
Lee So-hee had been engaged in a tense interrogation with Yoon Ki-soo and was taking a brief rest.
“How is it going?”
At Seo Jin’s question, Lee So-hee shook her head.
“He asked for food. He said he’d exercise his right to remain silent until his lawyer arrives.”
“He won’t be coming today. So just have them bring him food.”
“…He won’t come?”
“Yeah, he said he can’t make it today because of a funeral.”
Seo Jin continued, perching on the edge of the desk.
“And the reason I’m keeping Yoon Ki-soo detained is to make Han Sang-jun anxious.”
“…”
“We just watch what choice he makes and swallow him whole.”
Just then, Seo Jin’s phone vibrated.
It was Investigator Lim Jung-taek.
-Prosecutor, Han Sang-jun has made his move.
“Then I’ll leave it to you.”
The moment the call ended, Seo Jin’s phone vibrated again.
At the click sound, Seo Jin picked up the phone and brought it to his ear.
“Yes, this is Seo Jin. Tomorrow? That works.”
After ending the call, my gaze shifted toward Lee So-hee.
“Conduct an interview tomorrow. This case hasn’t been transferred to us yet, after all.”
In other words, we could lose it at any moment.
“It would feel unfair to go through all this trouble and not even get credit for it on our record.”
Lee So-hee understood what I meant.
Through a media interview, we’d mark the case as ours—make it harder for someone else to snatch it away.
“Alright, but which interview?”
“You know that MBS program, ‘Seeing the World’?”
“What?”
‘Seeing the World’ is a current affairs program that’s been airing for twenty years.
It covers unsolved cases and fearlessly critiques the political establishment, often becoming the center of controversy.
With viewership ratings around five to six percent, it’s a fairly well-known broadcast.
“…You’re doing an interview there?”
Lee So-hee had assumed it would be at best a local newspaper.
But suddenly, a national broadcast network?
I shrugged my shoulders.
“The District Prosecution Office director arranged it so the new recruits wouldn’t get taken advantage of.”
This was before we took on the case.
I didn’t want to be like a dog staring at the roof, so I’d asked Chief Prosecutor Kim Gwan-yong to set up some safeguards.
As a result, the director moved, and an interview with a national current affairs program came through.
I opened my mouth as I watched Lee So-hee blink in surprise.
“Well, that’s how it worked out. Anyway, I’m stepping out for a bit. Keep working hard.”
“Where are you going now?”
“Just need to verify something.”
I stood up, waved my hand, and left the office.
*
*
*
10 PM.
I parked the car in front of the pension.
It was a construction site in the dead of night, deep in the mountains—the world was silent and still.
I pulled a shovel from the trunk, slung it over my shoulder, and climbed the mountain.
With only the sound of my footsteps crunching, I stood before the walnut tree where Yoon Ki-soo had been digging.
‘Was it here?’
I looked around and drove the shovel into the ground.
Before long, I felt something solid at the tip of the shovel.
‘Not a rock.’
As I scraped away the dirt, a circular paint can came into view.
I shone my flashlight on the paint can and let out a low sigh.
Yoon Ki-soo is the kind of scoundrel who’ll do anything if there’s money in it.
Whatever was inside the paint can, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Not even if it contained a mutilated corpse or worse.
I pulled out the paint can and opened the lid.
I’d steeled myself not to react, yet my eyes widened involuntarily.
“What the hell!”
Fifty-thousand-won bills—portraits of Shin Saimdang—were stacked high inside.

—————

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

—————