Chapter 130 #43 Someone's Resolve (1)
“Welcome back?”
“He told me to drop the formalities, but whatever.”
Nam Juhyeon’s words didn’t sway Lee Hyewon—no, Ihee-won—who shook her head. She intended to keep a proper distance from the woman before her.
“Anyway, where on earth have you been? Mr. Smith specifically asked me to protect you. It’s a problem if you go off on your own like this.”
It was a mission entrusted to her by that Mr. Smith. Since she owed him her life, Ihee-won was determined to carry it out diligently until Nam Juhyeon returned to Sirius.
At Ihee-won’s words, Nam Juhyeon flashed a sly smile.
“Hmm, Mr. Smith, huh? So that’s the name he gave you.”
Ihee-won sighed. He’d even used a different alias! She’d suspected as much from the fake name “Smith” alone, but still, that man.
“He’s so sloppy.”
“Yeah, extremely.”
Nam Juhyeon nodded vigorously.
Ever since realizing the woman had no intention of harming her, her tension had eased, and she’d started treating her more casually—and she took it all in stride. When Nam Juhyeon mentioned craving cake after being told to speak up about her needs, she’d even brought some back.
And when Nam Juhyeon grumbled about the 30-minute wait, she’d barely suppressed a laugh bubbling up inside.
“Honestly, I was kinda scared of him at first.”
“Really?”
Did Mr. Smith have a scary vibe? He was a bit quirky, not entirely trustworthy, and pretty suspicious, but scary? Not really.
Reading Ihee-won’s expression, Nam Juhyeon burst out laughing.
“Hahaha!”
“What’s so funny?”
“I just had a feeling I knew what kind of image he has with you. Oh, and I totally agree! At first, I thought he was, like, a total villain...”
“A villain?”
“No, I mean! The situation I was in back then was perfect for misunderstandings.”
Nam Juhyeon muttered under her breath, “Actually, maybe it wasn’t a misunderstanding.” Ihee-won’s eyes narrowed, but Nam Juhyeon kept mumbling to herself, oblivious.
“No, he is a villain. Yeah, but... wait, is he? Should I say he isn’t?”
Her self-conflicting antics were already giving Ihee-won a headache. This woman really isn’t my type. Still, it wasn’t entirely without entertainment value.
Whatever conclusion she’d reached, Nam Juhyeon put on a grave expression and turned to Ihee-won.
“Well, he kills people sometimes, but he’s not a bad guy.”
“Pardon?”
Ihee-won’s jaw dropped.
“He... kills people?”
“Ah, wait, hold on?”
Nam Juhyeon clamped her mouth shut, realizing her slip, but it was too late.
“Did Mr. Smith kill someone?”
“Uh, bad guys! They were total bad guys.”
“Ugh.”
Ihee-won’s mind raced to construct a plausible story for Smith’s actions. He’d said he was hunting villains. Back then, he’d specified Tower villains, but maybe he went after others too. If he was a secret agent trained by the Awakener Association, such missions wouldn’t be unusual.
So, did he have no choice but to get his hands dirty? To actively rescue victims from villains, that might be the only way.
Noticing Ihee-won’s serious face, Nam Juhyeon ventured cautiously.
“I don’t know what misunderstanding you’re having, but he’s absolutely not a villain—well, he is a villain, but...”
“What? No, he’s not a villain.”
Ihee-won shot back.
“He’s just someone who handles things discreetly. If anything, he’s closer to a hero than a villain.”
“Huh? But he killed people? Wait, you know what he does and still call him a hero?”
“...He must have had no choice, right?”
Nam Juhyeon’s face drained of color. Watching her subtly edge away, Ihee-won cried out.
“Why are you backing away from me?”
“It just hit me who introduced you. You’re already on his side!”
“No, it’s not like we’re that close...”
“Eek! No excuses!”
“You’re the one who said first that even though he kills sometimes, he’s not bad!”
“Aaaah! Stay back!”
And so, their misunderstanding deepened steadily(?).
The TV spewed one sensational headline after another. It was only natural for reactions to swirl around the assassination of a sitting assemblyman.
But a closer look revealed all the coverage pointed in one direction.
The political world was thoroughly exploiting his death for their own gain, with Rep. Seol Rokjin at the forefront.
After his involvement, no one dared dig into Rep. Kim Seongdeok’s misdeeds.
Separately, the Hyeonmu Pharma scandal gained traction after Kim’s death. They’d failed to tie him in directly, but the evidence was ironclad.
The media stayed silent, but it wasn’t the only channel for information.
A journalist calling themselves “N” dumped all their research online, posting simultaneously across accessible platforms. The files brimmed with insider details no outsider should know.
Though deleted soon after, once scattered across the internet, they couldn’t be fully erased.
Sparks from “N” lingered through various channels.
And they refused to die under the deluge of top-down suppression—like embers smoldering beneath ashes, suspicions burned on, seeking the truth.
Their chatter veered to extremes.
Of course, such extremes drew quick pushback.
Do Chae-hee observed all the reactions coolly. Unlike before, when she’d viewed Beltsmets with blind rage, she could now mull them over with a clearer head.
She still didn’t think Beltsmets was right, of course.
As Rep. Seol Rokjin said, no matter Kim Seongdeok’s crimes, killing him wasn’t the answer.
Though indicting him, putting him on trial—all that was impossible too. Still, they shouldn’t have judged him like that.
Even so, Do Chae-hee couldn’t call this “satisfying.” She couldn’t say it, no matter how she felt.
If everyone started wielding private power like Beltsmets, Korea would collapse in an instant.
Since Awakeners emerged—humans with unbelievable strength—the government had always prioritized protecting civilians.
That’s why Awakeners faced endless restrictions.
Do Chae-hee herself had stormed Hyeonmu Pharma, bypassing dozens of guards to snag evidence.
If she’d meant to raze it, there’d have been dozens of casualties.
Awakeners were undeniably dangerous.
That’s why they needed vigilance and proper methods. The old Do Chae-hee would’ve concluded Beltsmets was wrong.
But not this time.
Beltsmets had clear reasons this time.
The incompetence of her—Gakbeombu’s—the nation’s.
If she’d caught and judged Kim Seongdeok herself, Beltsmets might not have gone that far.
They’d uncovered Bomnal Orphanage first, punished its monstrous creator.
And Butcher Park Sang-pyeon.
And now this.
One common thread: punishing true evildoers.
Bomnal Orphanage, the Butcher incident, and now this.
To condemn vigilantes or private revenge, you needed the confidence to say you could’ve solved it.
But Do Chae-hee, current Gakbeombu—lacked that.
Judging them comes after I earn that right.
She couldn’t curse Beltsmets now, having achieved nothing herself.
She’d gain the qualifications first, then act.
And that started by cutting ties with the man before her.
Do Chae-hee narrowed her eyes at Park Cheol-wan in her office.
“Things ended up like this.”
“Do you really have to go that far?”
“Yes.”
For this, she had to step down as team leader. Park Cheol-wan offered to quash any discipline if she truly repented, but she refused.
She knew what his “repentance” meant.
Packing her things from what used to be her office, Do Chae-hee faced Park Cheol-wan, still rooted in place.
“Anything else?”
“One month unpaid suspension.”
“A whole month?”
“Cool your head and come back.”
Demotion plus a month off without pay.
Unbelievable punishment for the hero who exposed Hyeonmu Pharma. Do Chae-hee smirked.
“Will my spot still be here when I return?”
“I’m not kicking you out.”
“So you’ll make me leave on my own?”
Park Cheol-wan’s face twisted in pain.
“You really think I’d throw you out? Why are you doing this?”
“Someone has to face injustice head-on. I’ll take that role.”
“You’ll regret it.”
He avoided her eyes; she did the same.
They’d crossed an uncrossable river.
Park Cheol-wan squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them.
“The team will hunt Beltsmets. You wanted that too.”
Do Chae-hee clenched her fists.
“That was before I knew better.”
“Hyeonmu wasn’t even our case. No Awakener involvement.”
“I know, but...”
She pressed on.
“You know chasing Beltsmets isn’t just for that reason.”
“So you’ll let those bastards roam free? That’s not like you, Chae-hee.”
“No, you’re the one who’s not like you anymore.”
Was the kind man she knew—the cop who’d wail purely over letting a perp escape—gone?
“Enough of this.”
Do Chae-hee grabbed her bags and stepped out. Park Cheol-wan followed to the hall, calling to her back.
“What now?”
“Why ask?”
“Because I’m worried about you!”
“Not planning to snitch upstairs?”
“What?”
“Kim Seongdeok’s dead, nothing changes—so someone else is pulling strings. Who’s this big shot?”
Park Cheol-wan fell silent. Do Chae-hee smiled bitterly.
“Can’t answer, huh?”
“Chae-hee.”
“Me neither.”
She memorized the face of Park Cheol-wan, the cowardly uncle. She’d hoped he’d deny it to the end, say it was over, the bad guy was dead. But he was still a hypocrite following someone.
“Take care.”
Do Chae-hee bowed curtly and turned away.
Her eyes burned hot.