090. The Death of the Man No One Hates (3)
He looked just like me. Messy hair, haggard face, silver handcuffs binding both hands. But Bang Gi-tae, stepping into the interrogation room, seemed almost relieved as he gave Kang Cheol-gu a casual nod of greeting.
Something's seriously fucked up! Instinctive dread made Yoon Hak-do swallow hard.
"Chief Yoon, you got life insurance?" Ignoring him, I dangled a USB drive and asked.
"These days, even the girls working at entertainment joints all have policies. Wanna watch this video together? You went at it real wild."
Chief Yoon's face drained of color, turning a sickly blue.
"W-what do you want from me?" For the first time since entering the room, honorifics slipped from his mouth.
"We caught Seoul City Planning Director Cheon In-su red-handed at that party. You're high school buddies who call each other 'bro,' right? Spill everything on your corruption with him. No adding, no subtracting—just the straight facts. Oh, if you wanna embellish it, I won't stop you."
"Y-you're insane!" Cheon In-su was Yoon Hak-do's last lifeline. In the worst case, even after doing time, that connection could land him a cushy spot at a public corporation. This was an order to cut his own throat.
"Refuse, and this video goes to your wife. Looks like even while pocketing bribes left and right, you had a guilty conscience—everything's in her name. Think she'll still bring you prison meals and nurse you warmly after seeing this?"
Even his family ties—Kang Cheol-gu wielded them like a weapon. No escape left.
"I-I'll confess everything."
The moment Yoon Hak-do's head drooped like a puppet with cut strings, the interrogation room door flew open as Gyu-cheol burst in.
"Hyungnim! That bastard Park Seung-hyeon regained consciousness."
* * *
"What the hell is this? You think you're cops so you can do anything? The patient needs rest right now!"
"Just a minute."
I shoved aside the agency rep blocking my way and entered the hospital room.
"...What the fuck is going on here? Why's Park Seung-hyeon in that state again?"
Park Seung-hyeon was admitted to Seol-yeong Hospital, Korea's top facility for drug rehab. Caught red-handed, but claiming mental incapacity, his agency had him in a VIP suite—which should have been pristine. But the room looked bombed out: chaos everywhere, Park Seung-hyeon collapsed unconscious with drool on his lips. The TV monitor was shattered, blood splattered the walls, and the stench of unemptied piss clogged the air.
"...He was conscious and chatting this morning, improving enough that we stepped away briefly..."
"We saw Detective Kang Cheol-gu's briefing on TV. The second he did, he freaked out...!" The head nurse spoke up for the speechless doctor.
"...Get him conscious, by any means necessary."
"But if he seizes again...!"
"I'll take full responsibility."
The doctor, shaking his head, finally injected Park Seung-hyeon. The guy had deteriorated shockingly in days. Once healthy skin now ashen, limbs skeletal. Classic end-stage addict. I could guess the potency of whatever he'd OD'd on impulsively.
As the drug hit, he groaned faintly and opened his eyes. Spotting me, his gaze turned demonic red.
"...Y-you!" Leather restraints held his limbs to prevent outbursts. Glancing down at himself, Park Seung-hyeon twisted into a sneer, glaring up at me. Those upturned eyes burned fierce.
"Feels like you won now, huh? This ain't the end for me!"
"Yeah? Bang Gi-tae flipped. Drug trafficking facilitation, for starters."
"That fucker's MIA. Where'd you pull that bullshit?"
"Oh right, almost forgot—Mae Seung-woo gave a victim statement. Adding contract violence."
"...That fucker Mae Seung-woo!"
"Nearly skipped this one. Vietnamese gangster V Ban Hong flipped too. His Korean's spot-on. Called you 'Park Seung-hyeon you little shit.' Present cop murder instigation charge incoming."
I ticked off the prepared docs one by one. His breathing grew ragged.
"Rep Yoon! How long do I gotta stare at this pig's face? Get a lawyer! Rep Yoon, you fuck, do something! Where's my manager?!"
The agency rep hunched his shoulders, watching silently.
"Where was I? Right, Gangnam Station's Jeong Gi-su captain turned himself in. Bribery, providing debauchery."
"What bullshit? I don't know that guy."
"Gangnam's Chief Yoon Hak-do admitted it too. Said you took bribes together. Denied the debauchery part flat-out, though? Real paragon of integrity."
"These fuckers...! All lies! Bullshit!"
He thrashed so hard blood seeped from under the leather wrist belts.
"Kang Cheol-gu, listen up! I ain't dying like this! If I go down, Korea shakes. Got it?"
"Seoul Planning Director Cheon In-su admitted taking kickbacks for greenbelt approvals on your land."
"...!"
"Finally, in case you get detained, Judge Gi-seong Jung for your trial—warrant requested this morning. And... what was that about shaking Korea?"
His face blued, body shuddering violently. I whispered in his ear as he whipped his head wildly.
"Two choices. Get discharged, stand trial, rot in prison. Probably 30 years. Or claim drug sequelae, spend life in a locked psych ward. Neither's a bright future."
A beastly howl erupted from Park Seung-hyeon. Red blood trickled from the restraint table.
Ignoring him, I headed out—
"Excuse me! Detective, wait!"
Panting hard, the agency rep blocked me.
"Hey, everything you said back there—is it all real? Our actor Park—no, Park Seung-hyeon—all charges confirmed?! His life's really fucked?!"
"Yeah. You heard it already. Problem?"
"No, not that, but..."
Eyes darting calculatingly, the rep bolted to admissions without a goodbye.
"Nurse! Move Park Seung-hyeon from VIP to a four-bed. Actually, scratch that—transfer him out. Anywhere cheap, facilities don't matter. Just process it!"
True to a agency head, thrifty as hell.
"...Fucking prick. All that power-tripping before—serves him right!"
A harsh spit landed behind me.
* * *
The Octopus incident wrapped up fast. Media blasted the high officials in bed with Park Seung-hyeon; prosecution and police brass got purged.
Team Leader Hwang Woo-sik grilled the Yangsan Station Chief Jang Sing-gu, caught at the villa party, like a rat in a trap—stripped his uniform and dragged him to court. Rumor was he pulled all-nighters, no home time. Uncharacteristic zeal had all of Violent Crimes Team 3 tilting heads.
A modest team dinner at the pork belly joint by Gangcheon Station.
"I did it! Even Yangsan Chief's head rolled 'cause of me!"
"Yes, yes. Sure thing. Team Leader Hwang took down Yangsan Chief."
Boozy Hwang Woo-sik had been bragging to Gwang-il for 30 minutes straight.
"I did it! That Yangsan shit Jang Sing-gu's neck—I got him! All me!"
"Argh! Who said you didn't? It was all you, Team Leader!"
Gwang-il plugged his ears in agony.
"Hey! Hyungnim, heard about Park Seung-hyeon?"
Gyu-cheol, smiling warmly at them while pouring me soda, asked.
"Agency dumped him; now he's in some psych ward with homeless psychos. Family cut ties, fans turned haters. Superstar to rock bottom in a blink."
"Karma's a bitch. Why no Heo Seon-sil?"
"Officer Heo was eating over there earlier!"
Gyu-cheol's wide eyes pointed to Heo Seon-sil, expertly wrapping a lettuce wrap. Near ninja-level stealth presence.
I was quietly impressed when my phone rang. Dad.
* * *
"Dad, say that again. Police academy special lecture?"
"Why so shocked? Active alumni giving talks to juniors is academy tradition, right?"
Unlike my retort, Dad sipped tea leisurely.
As he said, not rare. But for veterans, not a 20-something like me—first in 30 years of academy history.
"Official notice already went to Gangcheon Station under academy name. I know why you're hesitating, but students requested it. And... it'll be a learning chance for you too."
His brows arched knowingly.
* * *
The Jeep's roar echoed on a quiet road in Unnam-dong, Gyeonggi. First visit since graduation—17 years, really.
Police Academy. A name laced with love-hate.
When I first donned the uniform and swore the oath, it was my spiritual home, a badge of pride. Dad as dean amplified that weight.
But chasing Yoon Kyung-yeong cost Dad's life; framed and demoted, the academy name became shackles.
Every time I raised my voice for real investigations, they sneered: "Has-been cop with nothing but hollow academy pride."
I'd pour soju at Dad's grave then.
17 years later, back at alma mater. The iconic Goshawk Tower loomed by the main field—central pillar flanked by structures symbolizing country, justice, honor.
Lost in thought—
"Senior Kang Cheol-gu?"
An excited voice rang out. Before I could reply, cheers erupted.
"Yes! An honor. Loyalty! First-year Park Seung-tae."
"Loyalty! Cheon Ji-hwan. Never dreamed I'd meet you...!"
"I signed up for your lecture first, Senior!"
Salutes and greetings poured in.
Then.
"Enough, guys. Honestly, not someone we should be fawning over."
A male student snorted derisively from the side. Silence fell.
Academy cadets wear gray uniforms like school attire. Even identical, this guy's twisted smirk stood out. Baggy winter uniform hid contours, but every twitch rippled with trained muscle.
"What? Wrong? Our sky-high Senior Kang Cheol-gu stabbing fellow cops in the back for his solo glory play—who here doesn't know?"
"Senior Min, no need to go that far...!"
"Senior Kang Cheol-gu, keep playing hero with these kids. I'm out. Loyalty."
He threw the sloppiest salute I'd ever seen and walked off without looking back.
Getting lip from an alma mater junior—not a felon or scum—drew a chuckle.
Min, was it? Before lecture ends, I'll make a man outta him.
My lips curled faintly.