A Mysterious Blackmail Scheme
After leaving Choi Jae-woo a KakaoTalk message, I searched my memory.
“The ponytail definitely said church.”
Church.
Call it a religion if you wanted, but no matter how generously you looked at it, it was a cult.
The very idea that ordinary water could become holy water depending on who poured it, and that drinking it could cure disease.
It was fraud dressed up as faith, a way to numb people’s judgment and steer them into obedience.
“I suspected it ever since the ponytail showed up in that old video, but I didn’t expect to get a definite answer this fast.”
I had never been accosted by those “Do you know the Way?” types on my way to school before dawn for cram study, nor on my way to work before sunrise.
And since I’d never even heard of someone around me being caught up in one, I hadn’t recognized it right away.
It wasn’t as if cult-related cases of trespass, rape, adultery, and murder had never happened.
I hadn’t handled any myself, but the rumors alone were sinister enough. Same with the documentaries.
I let out a hollow laugh.
“So what does that make this?”
The bastard who had killed my mother and me was Jung Ji-hoon.
But the person pointed to by the mission photo was the ponytail.
“Does that mean Jung Ji-hoon is one of the believers? Is this cult the reason he could make side deals with the bench?”
In my dreams, whenever I became the prosecutor handling my mother’s case, I could never shake the sense that the court had been exchanging bribes behind the scenes.
No matter what evidence I presented.
No matter what witness I put on the stand.
They always acquitted the defendant.
Maybe I had been unconsciously convinced that the court had been buying and selling verdicts all along.
I pressed hard against my throbbing temple.
“So unless you can crush them with your own power, like President Han, there’s nothing you can do?”
I stared down at the photo in my hand. Almost as if it were the reward for the mission.
I hope my mother’s retrial can be solved by the system, too, not by the courts.
Connections and money.
I wanted every cartel in the country to lose its grip on judgment, and for the courts to sentence only the criminals whom the evidence and witnesses pointed to.
It would never happen, of course.
I pulled barley tea from the refrigerator and drank it down.
Then, all at once—
Kuuuurrrrum—BOOM!
Thunder cracked overhead, followed by lightning.
Then the rain came down in sheets.
I drew back the blackout curtains and opened the window.
Raindrops blew through the screen and soaked the grime that had settled in the window frame.
I had cleaned only a few days ago, and already the dust had gathered again.
“Probably because the place is right by the road. What a filthy way to settle in.”
Fine. Let the rain wash it all away.
So that even in the dark streets of Seoul, the stars might be visible.
* * *
5:30 a.m.
“Why is the alarm going off already?”
Because I’d stayed up late doing psychometry, my whole body felt stiff and sore.
Still lying down, I twisted my arms and legs from side to side before finally getting out of bed.
As usual, I checked my email app and then hit the home button.
“…Two missed calls? Who from?”
It was Min Ho-jun.
And he’d called at 2:30 in the morning.
“He sent a KakaoTalk message too.”
-I just finished work and I’m heading home now. Sorry for the late reply. lol
-I’m flying to Jeju this morning. You should’ve said something beforehand. Cha Do-hyuk is always late, honestly lol
-I’ll bring back Udo peanuts. Let’s meet after I’m back.
“What a vicious little bastard.”
I swallowed my irritation again and tapped out a careful reply telling him to have a safe trip.
Buzz.
-I’m boarding now~
“…You worked overtime the day before and you’re taking the first flight to Jeju?”
My friend was almost absurdly diligent.
After a simple breakfast, I thought about how I should use the gift Lee Seon-dong had given me yesterday.
“It’s like the mission wants me to find a use for it myself. If this is Lady Justice’s scales, then maybe it’s asking me to weigh fairness?”
The early statue of Dikē had held only a long sword, without scales.
It symbolized punishing those who violated justice.
Then, by the time the image evolved into Justitia, she was carrying both sword and scales.
And as the core of justice shifted from retribution to balance, the goddess eventually appeared with scales alone, no sword at all.
One hand holding scales.
The other holding a law book.
Like the statue of Justice standing in front of Korea’s Supreme Court.
Rather than asking which crime was heavier than another, was it telling me not to judge crimes by the taste or values of the person holding the scales?
“Is this scale supposed to determine the standard for guilt?”
Even if an A.I. judge existed, someone still had to set the criteria.
If I placed my own possessions on it, would my values become the standard?
“Let’s start by putting my lawyer badge on the left pan as the default setting.”
While I wondered what to put on the right, a charge rotated above the dish like a roulette wheel.
[Jaywalking misdemeanor] [Defamation by factual statement]….
Then, with a heavy thud—
The verdict appeared.
[Not Guilty]
I exhaled in relief.
If it was throwing up not guilty despite saying there was a crime, then it was probably doing some kind of plus-minus calculation of good deeds and bad deeds.
“…So I didn’t exactly live wrong.”
I tried placing the photo I’d received as a reward on it too. Since it couldn’t identify it at all, it only showed [ - ].
In that case—
“What if I try the criminal’s property?”
I took the fountain pen that Oh-sung Group’s youngest son had thrown during our consultation and set it on the left pan.
“I told that trash to keep it well because it was expensive, and now it’s finally useful.”
[Property Damage] [Property Damage] [School Violence] [Aggravated Assault] [Murder-for-Hire]….
The charges climbed rapidly, one after another.
“Murder-for-hire? A crime happened, but it never appeared in the news?”
Even drunk driving had made the news, so there was no way a murder-for-hire case would have stayed quiet.
This had to be an “unknown crime” — something that had happened but had not been recognized by the investigative authorities.
“That’s unsettling.”
Only at the very end did the charge from the drunk driving case I had handled flicker past.
“So the order of charges isn’t severity. It’s chronological?”
Thunk.
As if the tally had finished, the punishment finally appeared.
[Guilty]
And then, just like that, breaking news flashed that Oh Yoon-ki, the youngest son of the Oh-sung Group, had been killed by an arrow fired by a mutant.
“……I guess the pieces just happened to fit.”
I couldn’t shake the feeling that the scales had condemned him—or rather, that I had condemned him with my own hand.
“No way.”
It was chilling.
* * *
Monday, July 29, 8:03 a.m.
If I took Line 7 from Soongsil University Station, I would arrive at Express Bus Terminal Station at 8:13.
“Tight as ever.”
Back when I first set up shop in the underground shopping arcade, I used to squeeze off the train among the morning commuters and wonder whether there was any point in opening a private office this early.
All I needed was enough to cover the costs of solving my mother’s case.
But now, talking with the aunt and having a meal with her—
Hearing stories about my mom, Lee Soo-young, at twenty had become unexpectedly enjoyable.
One day I mentioned my mother and the flower shop aunt to Grandma, and she said, “Human beings grow tangled together, then live by grafting themselves onto one another.”
She hadn’t said it outright, but Grandma, too, must have been thirsty for stories about my mother. That thought made me strangely glad.
“Since it’s the recess period, maybe I should go down and visit. It’d be good to keep her company.”
The aunt and Grandma would have a nice time talking.
And if I thought about Grandma saying she absolutely couldn’t come all the way to Goto because it was too crowded, this was better anyway.
By the time I arrived in front of the law office, Aunt Yejin from the flower shop was busily arranging petals at her stall.
“Auntie, you’re busy from first thing in the morning?”
“You’re here? I’ve got quite a few reservations today.”
I found it strange that reservations had increased even though she didn’t advertise at all.
“Do-hyuk, there’s sticky corn in that basket over there. Take it. It’s good for someone who sits in a chair all day.”
“Thank you, I’ll enjoy it.”
“See you at lunch.”
I thanked her for the snack she’d given me again today, then opened the office door.
I ate the sticky corn and searched for the flame pattern.
I even checked overseas sites, but I couldn’t find a single pattern that looked similar.
“These days they say cults use TikTok for recruitment. Maybe I should look there.”
I’d even heard they disguised themselves as groups or companies that didn’t smell religious at all.
Dance academies, paid history study groups, book clubs—there were so many that it was hard to pin them down.
“If I need to check open-chat profiles too, that’s going to take time.”
I pressed the stiff skin beneath my eyes and searched again.
That was when I got a call from Kim Jooyoung, the partner lawyer who had been a senior at Continent Law Firm.
“Calling out of the blue during recess? Something must be up.”
I hesitated, then pressed the call button.
“Lawyer Kim Jooyoung.”
-Cha, how have you been?
“I’m always the same.”
-You sound very relaxed.
“Work’s been slow.”
That was a joke. My bank account certainly wasn’t.
-Then why did you leave Continent!? I took such good care of you. Was it really because of that Oh-sung Group case?
I froze without meaning to.
The matter of my efforts being erased was one thing, but the [D-23] that the scales had shown was especially unsettling.
I forced down the unease and laughed.
“I’m not a public-interest lawyer, so I’m not going to be traumatized by that much. I’ve been through worse.”
-Then why? Why did you really leave?
“Because the work never stopped. I only had five days off in three years.”
-…Well, we do have a lot of work.
“I did have rather a lot of work.”
Even if our values didn’t match.
Even if the workload was brutal.
The reason I’d stayed there for three years was because the defendant’s attorney in my mother’s case had been from Continent, and Continent kept permanent records of every case it handled.
Every detail of every consultation with a lawyer.
That meant if I took on a related case, I could access information on similar cases within Continent itself.
But my mother’s case had been completely inaccessible.
-I probably did dump a lot of work on you, huh.
“By the way, why did you call?”
-Ah. Someone came looking for you at Continent. They said they wanted to have you handle their case.
“…Me?”
When I started my private office, I sent out separate notices to people who had personally retained me before, didn’t I?
Even if a former client had recommended me to someone, they would have passed along my contact information, not called Continent directly.
Besides, with Min Ho-jun’s matter and the next mission looming, I had no intention of taking on new work for the time being.
“Lawyer Kim, I’m sorry for the trouble. But wouldn’t it be better for them to go through Continent?”
Even if my name had gotten around for being good at my job, Continent’s reputation would always outweigh mine as an individual, so I doubted they’d have any objections.
But…
-Seems like you were very kind to the victim’s family back when you were a public defender?
What is this supposed to mean?
-I should’ve done things the way you did when I was younger. What a shame.
“…What?”
Kim laughed to himself as though he’d heard the funniest thing in the world.
-The victim’s family didn’t know you’d left the firm. They thought you still worked here, so they came looking for you.
“Really?”
How would someone I met when I was a public defender know I’d been at Continent?
That was highly suspicious.
So was the rambling story Kim kept piling on top of it.
-…Anyway, I wanted to check whether I could give them your number. What do you want me to do?
Absolutely refuse.
But the world had no intention of going my way.
Meet the client at Continent before midnight on August 18, 2024.
-If successful: enter the main mission.
-If failed: system annihilation.
※ You will recognize the client immediately.
I closed the mission hanging in the air and put on my jacket.
“Go ahead and give it to them.”
-Ooh, got it.
“But Lawyer Kim. Is the victim’s family at Continent right now?”
-Huh? Yeah.
“I’ll head over immediately. I should be able to make it to Continent in thirty minutes, give or take.”
It was a small act of rebellion against the mission.
---