Criminal Boy (9)
“The station chief got arrested too? What the hell is going on?!”
“I'm sorry, sir. I just heard the news myself. Our internal police lines are completely broken, so there's no way to find out more.”
In the VIP room of Namyoung Hospital, Jin Hwi-jae's low voice echoed. He kept repeating the same question, as if he couldn't believe it—completely out of character for him. The secretary general, bowing deeply, kept wiping away his cold sweat.
Jin Hwi-jae tapped the table with his fingers, quietly regulating his breathing. Everyone knew that tic came out when he was tense or furiously angry. The secretary general bit his lip, silently gauging his boss's mood.
“Get out. Or... is there something else I need to know?”
“...Sir, I think you should see this.”
The secretary general swallowed dryly and handed over his phone.
“...Wh-what is this?!”
“Yeongjin Construction's stock has dropped over 5%. It seems the distrust in the company image has spread because of Woo-cheol.”
Jin Hwi-jae's brow furrowed. At this rate, a no-confidence vote at the shareholders' meeting was a real possibility. No—even if public opinion fully turned, that would be the least of his worries.
“Prepare a press conference immediately!”
His voice rose.
“Sir, the timing isn't good. We should lay low and observe the situation for now...”
“Does this look like something we can just avoid to you? Koreans are smart but naive. They won't buy a forced apology, but if you step up and take the punishment willingly, they'll soften up a bit.”
“Understood. ...But what about that Kang Cheol-gu?”
The secretary general trailed off, carefully watching Jin Hwi-jae's face. He knew his boss wasn't the type to wave a white flag after a hit like this.
“Kang Cheol-gu... Never thought there'd be a cop in this country who'd stab me in the back like that. But he's just a cop. Limited room to maneuver. What can a punk like him do to me? We'll put out this fire first, then deal with him separately.”
Thick veins writhed like worms across Jin Hwi-jae's forehead.
After the secretary general rushed off to prepare the press conference, Jin Hwi-jae turned to his son Woo-cheol—the root of all this chaos. There was no warmth in a father's gaze for his unconscious boy.
Useless bastard! I told you a man has to be ruthless.
* * *
[And now, the next news. The Jungcheon District police shooting incident from two days ago, which sparked controversy over excessive force, has taken a completely new turn. The alleged victim, a boy surnamed Jin, has been revealed by police investigation to be at the center of academy violence in Jungcheon District. The surprise is even greater given that his father is known to be Jin Hwi-jae, chairman of mid-tier company Yeongjin Construction. Chairman Jin has now made a direct statement on the matter.]
The screen switched to show Yeongjin Construction's grand conference room in full view. As camera flashes exploded, Jin Hwi-jae, with a somber expression, bowed at a perfect 90 degrees.
He stared at the microphone for a long moment, breathing heavily, before his heavy lips finally parted.
[To the public and the victimized student, I offer my sincerest apologies. This is all the fault of a father who failed to raise his son properly, so I earnestly beg that all blame and finger-pointing be directed at me alone. I will fully cooperate with the police investigation regarding my son, and whatever the first-trial court's verdict, I will humbly accept it without appeal. Furthermore, for the students harmed by my worthless son, I will spare no financial support for their treatment, rehabilitation, and compensation. Once again, I apologize before the people.]
“Whoa! Looks like Jin Hwi-jae's not such a bad guy after all. Right, Gyu-cheol hyung?”
“I dunno. I'm more scared of him now.”
“What do you mean?”
“Look closely at the wording. 'Blame and finger-pointing.' What vibe does that give you?”
“Hmm! Sounds unpleasant, like a villain? No way that bastard...!”
Gyu-cheol shook his head as he watched the TV.
“Exactly. Once he frames it like that, even legitimate critics will have to fight that 'blame and finger-pointing' narrative from now on. And what's common among rich folks in our country? No matter the insults, they protect their own—it's the national rule. But this guy? Situation turns sour, and he cuts his own kid loose. Not your average ruthless bastard.”
“What if that punk stabs Cheol-gu hyung in the back then? You okay, hyung?”
Gwang-il asked me in an agitated voice.
“Don't worry. We'll clash again soon. And next time, it won't end like this.”
“What scheme are you plotting now? I get so anxious every time you smile like that, hyung! Ah, come on! Stop grinning!”
People who trust their own strength have two big prejudices about Korean cops. The rigid, inflexible type who believes only in law and justice above all, or the moderately corrupt, self-preserving kind. Unfortunately, neither applies to me.
I nodded and stood up.
“Whoa! Hyung, no cases to process today—where you headed?”
“Someone sent a gift, so I'm just going to say thanks.”
* * *
“The president is in a meeting with the executives right now. She's been informed you're here, Inspector Kang, and will come straight away when it ends.”
“Yes. How have you been, Director Yang Jin-ho?”
“Same as always.”
In Hong Gye-young's office on the top floor of the Taehwa Building, an awkward silence hung between the two men. Seemingly uncomfortable, Yang Jin-ho scratched his head and spoke up.
“...By the way, congratulations. I really thought it was curtains for you this time.”
“Sounds like you're disappointed it ended well.”
“Haha! No, no.”
At Kang Cheol-gu's light jab, Director Yang waved it off, then stepped closer with an embarrassed look.
“...To be honest, it'd be a lie to say I only had good feelings about you, Inspector Kang. My job is the president's safety. And that includes psychological factors. You're unpredictable, and having someone like that around her is an anxiety trigger.”
His gaze drifted out the window, as if reminiscing.
“But after you got in real danger this time, I realized I was worried. Somehow, I was rooting for you.”
Yang Jin-ho clenched and unclenched his fist, head bowed.
“Glad it wrapped up safely. Congratulations again.”
His hand extended toward me. That's when it happened.
“What are you two dark-skinned guys doing, holding hands like that?”
A bright voice shattered the awkward atmosphere, filling the room. Hong Gye-young approached, fanning herself, a light sheen of sweat on her nose bridge from climbing the stairs.
“Director Yang, thanks for your trouble. You can go now. The meeting ran longer than expected.”
Executive meetings lasted at least two hours, even short ones. Wrapping up in 30 minutes and calling it long?
Yang Jin-ho smirked and bowed his head.
“You don't seem surprised I showed up unannounced.”
“I figured you'd come today.”
Hong Gye-young interlaced her slender fingers under her chin. A playful smile played on her lips, mismatched with her feminine long lashes.
“So, what brings you here?”
“I got your gift. Na Sang-yeon's arrest—your handiwork, right?”
“Did someone who knows that come empty-handed?”
“Pardon?”
Her eyes curved into half-moons.
“You said it yourself before, Inspector Kang. Ours is a business relationship. And business is give and take.”
Her pale palm faced me.
“Nothing's free in this world. Time to pay up.”
“What I can offer...”
How to deflect this? As I hesitated, she stood and approached.
Click-clack!
With a mischievous imp's grin, she offered her hand.
“I've already got my reward. Let's shake on it.”
“What do you mean, already got it?”
* * *
The Kang Cheol-gu before her wore many masks. Brazen impudence in unreasonable demands, mercy pitying the weak's misfortune, ruthless decisiveness slicing enemies' throats. But piercing all those masks was one core value: self-assurance. Not arrogant insistence that he was always right. Even in failure, he'd rise and push his will through—a resolve that even Hong Gye-young sometimes wanted to lean on.
She'd racked her brains to empower that resolve, but this time, no method worked. A first for her—utter helplessness.
Her head slowly lifted.
“Never imagined you'd escape risk like that, Inspector Kang. It's a model fully applicable if Taehwa ever hits trouble again. Honestly, I was shocked.”
Her tone brimmed with amusement, but she bit her lower lip. She hated herself for not admitting it was joy, not shock. She'd never even considered some Taehwa crisis model.
Can't be helped.
In the cutthroat intrigue of chaebol families—like a demon's maze—she'd learned to hide her heart before anything else.
Yet her feelings for Kang Cheol-gu now were a paradox. She wanted to be his sturdy shield, blocking arrows aimed at him—and yet, to see him stand firm against the world without her help. Those desires clashed endlessly.
And in the end, he'd risen on his own power.
Yeah. That's enough!
The moment Kang Cheol-gu took her smiling hand. The office door burst open as Yang Jin-ho rushed in, breathless.
“Director Yang, didn't you head out?”
“P-President! The chairman's here!”
“What? Dad?!”
Her mouth fell wide open.
* * *
Taehwa Electronics President Hong Jang-hoon.
Unlike the typical 'eldest son inheritance' in Korean chaebols, founder Hong Joo-in had divided his shares equally—25% each—among his four sons. Hong Jang-hoon, the third son and Hong Gye-young's father, now stood before me as Taehwa Electronics' president.
Over 180cm tall, his neck flushed copper-red, he looked less like a chaebol chairman and more like a career soldier used to the field.
Hong Jang-hoon's piercing gaze fixed on me, then slowly nodded.
“No wonder my girl's been avoiding her dad lately. Dating, huh?”
“Dad! What are you talking about?”
His eyes warmed as he watched his blushing daughter glare. Different from the media image. In the press, Hong Jang-hoon was a bulldozer.
Nothing's impossible if you make it happen!
That one line defined his philosophy, dominating Taehwa Electronics. Even among his three brothers, he always held the edge.
His mercenary tactics—praised and condemned alike—were bizarre. He'd promoted a fourth-year agent to section chief on the spot during a site visit, just for good greetings, sparking scandals. Rumors flew of a hidden son. But a year later, that agent became a national innovation product developer, silencing critics.
Unpredictable man. Yet before his only daughter, he was just an ordinary dad.
She's loved.
As I nodded, she approached.
“Dad, let me introduce him. This is Inspector Kang Cheol-gu. He works at Gangcheon Police Station...”
“I know. How could I not? You're more famous than me these days. But anyway.”
A massive shadow loomed with a pot-lid hand toward me.
“Nice to meet you. I'm Hong Jang-hoon.”
“D-Dad!”
Ignoring Hong Gye-young's low groan, his eyes stayed on me. I involuntarily drew a short breath.
This was Hong Jang-hoon's signature 'way of judging people,' revealed later in his autobiography. I gripped his outstretched hand.