Chapter 121 #40 What It Means to Dream of Justice (1)
“Team Leader Do!”
“Ah, Yongwon.”
Unlike Kim Yongwon, who looked as energetic as ever, Do Chae-hee’s complexion was poor today as well—she’d pulled another all-nighter.
Lately, the case clearance rate hadn’t budged from the twenties, piling on the stress. And the cases she’d been personally pursuing for months had hit dead ends.
Kim Yongwon eyed Do Chae-hee’s flaky, dried-out skin and cautiously opened his mouth.
“Are you getting any proper sleep?”
“I’d love to say yes... but no, not really.”
For Do Chae-hee, who always brushed off hardships with a “it’s fine,” to say something like this... Kim Yongwon looked at her with pity in his eyes.
To lighten the mood, he raised his voice.
“Oh, have you seen the buzz online lately?”
“No. I don’t even have time to log on.”
With the stress, workload, and no sleep, who had time for internet nonsense?
“It’s about that Bomnal Orphanage.”
“Bomnal Orphanage?”
“Yeah, speculation about who was running it. People are saying Beltsmets might be bad for raiding it, but the real villain is the operator.”
“Ah.”
Do Chae-hee blinked at that. Touching her head, she said,
“Now that you mention it, I hadn’t thought of that.”
Once she learned about the site, she’d fixated only on catching Beltsmets for the massacre.
Deputy Chief Park Cheol-wan had ordered the same. What had he said about the orphanage? Something about internal investigation? Or had they not even started?
Why hadn’t she thought about it until now?
Kim Yongwon spoke to her dazed expression.
“There’s talk that Assemblyman Kim Seongdeok from Mirae Party was the operator.”
Do Chae-hee burst out laughing despite herself.
“Assemblyman Kim?”
It was just too outlandish.
Kim Seongdeok, of all people?
Kim Seongdeok was one of the most popular assemblymen in Korea, countable on one hand.
Whenever disaster struck, he was first with aid supplies—Hyeonmu Pharma’s potion sets.
Back as Hyeonmu Pharma’s chairman, he’d promised the government discounted potions and kept his word. Thanks to him, Korea could lavish top-quality potions on disaster sites.
Riding that goodwill, he’d been an assemblyman for over a decade without scandal.
No—his position only solidified over time.
The president trusted him above all; he’d discovered Seol Rokjin, now Korea’s most popular assemblyman.
What reason would a man with everything do something like that?
“Wait, they’re linking it to Hyeonmu Pharma?”
Pharma and human experiments—perfect keywords. Kim Yongwon nodded at her words.
“Yeah, seems so.”
“You believe that crap?”
“Well, it sounded pretty convincing in the post...”
“Cut the nonsense and go home.”
Kim Yongwon scratched his nape and bowed awkwardly.
Watching him, Do Chae-hee inwardly clicked her tongue. She hadn’t pegged him as gullible enough for rumors.
Linking Hyeonmu Pharma to that? She knew online conspiracies were trash, but this was too much.
Click. Entering her office, Do Chae-hee frowned at the unfamiliar envelope on her desk.
“Huh.”
Had she left that there?
She circled the desk cautiously, inspecting it.
It wasn’t even Gakbeombu stationery—clearly from outside.
Mail? No stamps or postmarks.
Just her name, no sender. Unease welled up.
‘People used to send powdered poison in envelopes for terror attacks.’
But curiosity gnawed—what was inside?
“Ugh!”
Irritated, she stomped and grabbed it. If I die, it’ll be this damn curiosity.
Channeling mana to her eyes,
“Mm.”
Eagle vision: no danger.
“Good.”
Sighing, she carefully opened it.
No poison spray. Just thick documents and a small recorder.
Top was a letter for her.
Hello, Team Leader Do Chae-hee. I took up my pen to reveal the hidden truth of Bomnal Orphanage.
If there’s anyone in this world more trustworthy than anyone else, it must be you. Everything here is fact.
Please, let the world know the truth.
“Huh.”
Reading it, instinct told her: whatever was inside could shatter her world.
Setting the half-read letter down, she flipped through the pages.
The “truth” of Bomnal Orphanage—brutally real, too cruel to be faked. Photos, precise data, records. And the tiny recorder at the end.
Do Chae-hee devoured it all, entranced.
At first, a prank. But the quality was too high to fake.
By the time she finished, night had fallen, darkness everywhere.
‘Is this really true?’
Initially, just another rumor. But the photos, the content—too serious.
More shaking was the letter’s end.
‘Solve this without Deputy Chief Park Cheol-wan’s support.’
She bit her lip. The implication was clear.
The sender called themselves N. Below, a contact. She narrowed her eyes.
‘Bold enough to leave a number.’
Her next move was clear.
She had to meet N.
Do Chae-hee, in plain clothes instead of her usual police uniform, slipped into the park, wary of eyes.
Midnight, rural Gyeonggi park—deserted.
The dim, flickering streetlamp was the only light, eerie even to look at. She sat on the marked bench.
N had specified it: sit here, they’d come soon.
No drug deals even happen in places like this. Grumbling inwardly, she spotted someone approaching and narrowed her eyes.
That them?
The woman stopping by the bench’s lamppost waved.
“Hey, hello!”
Black half-mask hiding her face, thick horn-rimmed glasses over it.
‘Glasses or mask—pick one!’
Nearly blurted it. But the tall woman beside her wore dark sunglasses at night.
“Didn’t expect two.”
The masked woman—Nam Juhyeon—replied,
“My bodyguard. I’m under threat for various reasons.”
Do Chae-hee glanced at Lee Hyewon, sword on her back annoying but fair—she was an awakener with her pistol.
“Honestly, didn’t think you’d really come, Team Leader Do.”
Lie. Do Chae-hee twitched an eyebrow.
“Is everything you sent true?”
Bomnal Orphanage, backed by Assemblyman Kim Seongdeok. Hyeonmu Pharma rife with “clinical trials” as human experiments.
“Yes, pure truth. Can’t say how I got it, though.”
Nam Juhyeon had dug, but Beltsmets’ man provided details. She’d die before spilling.
Do Chae-hee, unsurprised, moved on.
“What did you mean, investigate alone without Deputy Chief Park?”
Nam Juhyeon shrugged slowly.
“Straight talk: I don’t trust Deputy Chief Park. I know you’re close. But he lacks the will to solve this.”
Not ability—will. Do Chae-hee’s eyebrow twitched.
She’d sensed it from the letter: this woman knew something she didn’t.
“How could Assemblyman Kim do all that? Because he’s so capable? No—everyone turned a blind eye. Without that, it wouldn’t have gone this far.”
“You include Deputy Chief Park in that ‘everyone’?”
Arms crossed, Nam Juhyeon continued sharply.
“Yes. Frankly, I think someone who ignores injustice is how Park became ‘deputy chief.’”
“Ha.”
Do Chae-hee clenched her fist. Her Park wasn’t evil.
Always first at scenes, last to leave.
He’d championed her dream: become police to stop villain-rampage worlds.
That man ignoring it all?
Ridiculous slander.
“Think: if he were truly good like you say, could he be deputy chief? If he wanted bad guys caught, why is Gakbeombu so incompetent under him?”
“Incompetent? What do you even know!”
Her harsh tone made the sunglassed woman step forward, hand on sword hilt. Do Chae-hee bit her lip, retreating.
Without knowing our efforts, our struggles—just call us incompetent?
Trembling, swallowing rage, Nam Juhyeon spoke slowly.
“Do you really think Gakbeombu tries? Fights for the world? Then why the incompetence rep?”
Silent, Do Chae-hee listened as Nam Juhyeon continued.
“Dig into this, and you’ll see.”
Do Chae-hee inhaled deeply.
“If Hyeonmu Pharma and Kim Seongdeok are corrupt as you say, and if Park... the deputy chief is involved.”
Steadying,
“I won’t believe anything until I see it myself.”
“Good.”
Nam Juhyeon smiled, as if waiting.
“Until then, allies?”
Staring at the offered hand, Do Chae-hee ignored it.
“Any plan?”