A Suspicious Hanging
Wouldn't your insight shine even in Jeonju?
I decided to stay at Hong Cham-bong's house until enrolling in the academy, just like during the exam period last time. I'd gone without notice, so I was a bit worried inside, but there was no need. Next year's exam takers were already reserving the room I'd stayed in, even paying extra under the table. Without knowing that Kim Hui-un had slept there too, of course. Anyway, Hong Cham-bong, who'd earned a full year's income in one go thanks to me, welcomed me with joy.
After spending the night in lavish hospitality, I planned to head straight to the academy. I wanted to leisurely tour the place where I'd spend the next three years.
"He's dead? In prison? Suddenly?"
That was the plan—until an officer showed up early in the morning.
"Yes! He was fine last night, but this morning, there he was, hanged by the neck!"
The officer explained the situation when he came looking for me at dawn. The thief I'd caught yesterday had died in prison.
But the officer's purpose wasn't just to deliver the news.
"So, uh, our Lord Hyeong-bang is summoning Captain Kim."
"Me? Why?"
"He has some questions for you, sir."
"Can't I skip it?"
"W-well, Lord Hyeong-bang insisted we bring you..."
If I didn't go, this guy would catch hell. "Fine. I'll go."
I had to visit the Jeonju yamen anyway to collect my bounty. Fifteen yang per head, forty-five yang total. After dropping three thousand yang at a Jeonju brothel, forty-five felt like pocket change. But money was money, big or small.
I changed into my going-out uniform, grabbed just my changpo sword and one long sword, and followed the officer.
True to its status as a metropolis-level Jeonju-bu, the yamen was larger and more impressive than back home.
"My god."
"Things are already tense."
"Tell me about it."
But the commotion seemed for other reasons.
"That's the prison over there."
The officer led me through the yamen buildings to the detention prison.
"You lot! Have completely! Lost! Your minds!"
Thwack! Thwack!
"Ow! Eek! Mercy, sir!"
The prison entrance was even more chaotic up close. Four officers lay prostrate in a row, taking blows to the rear from what looked like their superior's club.
"If you'd gotten properly! Wasted! On the booze lees! You wouldn't have! Caused this mess!"
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
He swung with every word, just like I had with that punk yesterday who'd robbed for booze money. Actually, it wasn't the only similarity to yesterday.
The guy swinging the club was the one who'd tried bribing me yesterday to let the thief go.
No wonder. He'd paid good money to spring the guy, only for him to hang himself overnight. Enough to drive anyone mad.
"Don't mind them, sir."
As he guided me into the prison, the officer explained who they were.
"They should've gotten drunk on another day. But no, they had to do it at dawn today. Tsk tsk tsk. Ah, right this way."
I followed him inside. The prison smelled damp and earthy like a basement, but otherwise was spotless as befitted a government facility. Cells lined up on both sides, barred with wooden lattices holding the prisoners. In the corridor between facing cells, officers and clerks stood before one.
"You must be Kim Si-jin?"
One spotted me. He pushed through the crowd and introduced himself right away.
"I'm Choi Myeong-gwan, in charge of investigations here."
"Ah, yes. Pleasure to meet you. Kim Si-jin."
I bowed and asked why I'd been summoned.
"You wanted to see me—what's the problem?"
"No problem. It's routine to call witnesses when someone dies. You brought this man in yesterday? Come here."
The Hyeong-bang nodded toward where he'd come from. I followed him to the cell, where the thief I'd dragged in yesterday lay on a mat. Not sleeping—eyes wide open, neck marked with deep rope burns and countless nail scratches. Dark stains down his pant legs suggested he hadn't gone peacefully.
"This the guy you brought in yesterday?"
"..."
"Hey."
"Yes? Ah, yes. That's him. I brought him."
It wasn't my first corpse. But my first suicide—threw me off a bit.
"Nothing to be shocked about."
The Hyeong-bang stroked his beard impassively.
"Thieves like him face execution or corporal punishment. Plenty hang themselves out of fear."
"So... suicide?"
"That's right. They found him this morning, hanged from those window bars."
He pointed to the back of the cell. A small window sat head-high for most men—a bit low for hanging.
"Kinda low, huh?"
"It is. But you're not the first to die from it."
Then raise it higher. Why keep it there?
"Doesn't Sinju Muyunrok mention it? You can hang from low spots. Haven't read it? I heard you're prepping for investigations."
"Pardon? No, I've always dreamed of being a military officer. Where'd you hear that?"
"You're from Jeong-eup, right? Our local Hyeong-bang there and I took the exam together. We exchanged letters about you."
Damn that Hyeong-bang back home. For real.
"Well, yeah, I've read Sinju Muyunrok."
Sinju Muyunrok was a forensic text compiled just before I was born. I'd read it when the hometown Hyeong-bang tried luring me to work under him. It claimed you could hang from waist height. Not wrong. Even modern CSI shows mentioned it—public restroom door handles and all.
But beyond that, something felt off. Indescribable, but I couldn't let it slide.
"The book says suicides have clean necks. But this guy's scratched to hell."
"Book says that, sure. But sometimes they claw in desperation—wanting to live after deciding to die."
That tracked. Even jumpers felt regret at the last second, I'd heard. Still, something didn't add up. I scanned the cell again.
The body lay on the mat. Desperate to live, he'd clawed his neck bloody. Feet kicking too, no doubt. At that height, his toes should've touched the floor—but the mat was pristine, like the others. If someone had tidied it, that'd change things.
"Who touched the mat?"
Wondering if that was it, I asked the Hyeong-bang.
"Hmm..."
He didn't answer, just eyed the cell with narrowed gaze.
"Tch!"
About ten seconds later, he clicked his tongue and shouted toward the prison entrance.
"Hey! Get the one who took down the body!"
"Yes, Lord Hyeong-bang!"
The officer who'd brought me ran off with gusto. While waiting, the Hyeong-bang grumbled like it was a hassle.
"Suicide would've been simpler..."
He sensed the fishiness too.
"Oh, right—you're here."
His furrowed brow lit up as he spotted me.
"Heard about you. Your insight's no joke, huh?"
"Uh, no."
"Don't deny it. That's how you spotted the oddity."
With an oddly uneasy air, he raised his hand.
"Captain Kim."
He clapped it on my shoulder, locking eyes.
"Wouldn't your insight shine even in Jeonju?"
"N-no thanks. Pass. Don't make me."
"At ten, you exposed a killer, right?"
"I just cleared an innocent man's name. No insight there."
"That's insight itself. Ha ha ha ha."
His mouth smiled, but his eyes didn't—glinting sharp.
"Y-you called, Lord Hyeong-bang?!"
Before I could refuse again, the officer approached, rubbing his sore rear awkwardly—clearly one of the beaten ones.
Squeeze...!
"Mm. Good."
The Hyeong-bang gripped my shoulder hard, like he wouldn't let go, then released and turned to the officer.
"You took down the body?"
"Y-yes, sir. Tried to save him, but he was cold and dead. Truly sorry, sir."
"No, that's not what I mean."
He stopped the bowing apology and pointed to the cell—specifically, the mat under the corpse.
"That mat—was it always like that?"
"P-pardon? What do you...?"
"The mat. When you found the body, wasn't it disturbed? Did you straighten it?"
"Well..."
The officer glanced down, recalling, pondered a few seconds, then shook his head.
"I never touched the mat, sir."
"Really? No one else did?"
"Everyone was panicking over the body."
"Panicking enough to miss someone tidying the mat?"
Sounded like he was desperate to call it suicide.
"Hm?"
Not wanting to watch, I glanced toward the entrance. There stood the club-wielding officer from earlier.
"...!"
He still clutched the club, staring this way—face pale as the corpse on the floor.