The Send-Off Before the Prosecutors
Sunday night. Hongdae.
"Hyung. What do you mean? This is your farewell party, and you're saying you have to leave early?"
Jonghun sounded genuinely hurt.
"Sorry. I couldn't help it. I've got to go to the prosecutors' office tomorrow for a witness interview."
"The prosecutors? Hyung! Did you commit a crime? Out of nowhere? Is that why you quit?"
"No. I said witness interview. I didn't commit anything—I just got tangled up in it. I go in tomorrow, give a simple statement, and walk out. But of all times, it's Monday at ten. Tch. I wanted to run all night with you guys too. Sorry. I'll cover the first, second, and third rounds tonight instead."
"Wow. The things that happen. Still, it's a shame. Last drinks with you, hyung."
"What do you mean, last? You've got my number. Want to see me, just call."
"R-right?"
Only then did Jonghun relax. After that, Kim Taeyoung and his old department-store coworkers tore through the night. The first stop was a twenty-four-hour barbecue joint. They'd all worked late; of course none of them had managed a proper dinner. He'd lived that life himself.
"Hy-hyung... this is a beef place."
"I know, you idiot. Get in. You think I can't do at least this much for you? My severance is coming in soon. It's not even a burden."
"No, six of us will blow through four or five hundred thousand won easy... even with four of them being women."
"I said it's fine. Let's go."
Jonghun, Jo Sua, and the rest followed awkwardly behind Kim Taeyoung as he strode into the beef house like he belonged there. Even when headquarters put a corporate card in their hands, they'd never made it to a place like this. There was a cap of thirty thousand won a head. His coworkers worried he was pushing himself too far.
"Boss. Five orders of galbi-sal and five of prime ribeye."
One hundred thirty grams a portion, fifty thousand won. Half a million won, already. The department-store crew went pale with anxiety. Kim Taeyoung let out a small sigh. Until not long ago he'd lived the same life, and he knew exactly what was running through their heads.
The six of them were bound tight by trench camaraderie. On an average day they caught one or two jin-sang—abusive, unreasonable customers. Take gabjil day after day, that casual abuse of anyone with power over you, and the grunts had no choice but to stick together. That was why he felt something particular for them. Nothing for it. He'd have to let them in on a little of the truth.
"I said it's fine. Do I look like I'm throwing money around without a thought?"
"Hyung. Your severance isn't even ten million won, is it? We're all on performance pay... three months of actual salary would only come to six or seven million..."
"Truth is, I made some money on crypto."
"Crypto?"
Every former coworker's attention, Jonghun's included, snapped to him at once. Talk of money drew interest across every era and generation—and all the more when someone close had made a killing.
"Yeah. That's why I'm getting investigated, too. Anyway, this much isn't a real burden anymore. If it's not enough, order whatever you want."
"Whoa... how much did you even make, to get hauled in by the prosecutors?"
"It's not the amount that's the problem. Something seems off on the coin side, so they're looking into it. Enough about the prosecutors. Let's drink. You all said you were running all night, right? Let's go!"
He never gave them an exact figure. But he let the implication hang that he'd made a great deal, and only then did his old comrades' faces brighten. They attacked the meat and the liquor like they were going to war. Even the women on staff, who usually picked at their food to seem dainty, were no exception. This was beef—top-grade beef, in a restaurant so expensive you were lucky to eat there once a year.
And yet exactly one face stayed dark. Jo Sua. A prospective college student admitted to a fairly well-known university, still a high-school senior, a part-timer who'd agreed to work until the new semester began. Young as she was, she usually ate with a healthy appetite—but for some reason, not here.
"Sua. Meat no good? Why aren't you eating?"
"No! It's delicious! I'm eating plenty, Manager."
Not her manager anymore. But it hardly mattered. Titles weren't that important.
"Good. Eat up. You'll need the stamina once college starts."
"Yes..."
Jo Sua worked her chopsticks as if forcing herself. Was something weighing on her? Well, at that age your head was full of this and that. Going off to college was the same. Some people felt nothing but excitement about a new campus; others, inevitably, worried.
The first round ended, and the second was Norae Town, a place where you could drink and sing at once. Then a snag.
"Minors aren't allowed in."
Jo Sua was eighteen. A high school student. She wouldn't be allowed into a bar until next year.
"Nothing for it. I'll take Sua home and come back. You all start without me. I have to be up early tomorrow anyway, so I can't drink much."
Kim Taeyoung took charge of his flustered coworkers, herded Jonghun and the other three into Norae Town, and then set off down the street with Jo Sua.
"Something on your mind?"
Her face had been dark since the first round. Even now she walked with her eyes on the ground. She hadn't been like this. She made mistakes, sure, but she was always bright and sturdy, chattering away.
"On my mind?"
At his question she hesitated a long while. Like an adult, he decided to wait until she was ready to speak.
"I'm just sad about parting with you, Manager."
What she finally produced, after all that agonizing, caught him off guard.
"What? That was really it?"
"Yes. Once you quit, I won't get to see you anymore."
"Hahaha."
Kim Taeyoung burst out laughing. Of course it felt good. Anyone would be pleased to be liked by a pretty young girl. For a second a what-if flickered through him—and he snuffed it out at once. Eleven years between them, twelve. What she meant was that he was someone she relied on. Every time she slipped up, he'd covered for her.
"If I leave, you're never going to see my face again? Not even a call?"
"O-of course I would! But once you quit, it's awkward for an old coworker to reach out, isn't it? Don't you feel that way, Manager?"
"Generally, maybe. But were we ordinary coworkers? All stiff and office-like? No. We're comrades. I told you before—if you miss me, call anytime. I'll buy you drinks and a meal... wait, drinks won't work. A meal, though, I can buy you as many as you want."
"I really can?"
"Of course."
Jo Sua's face brightened. She was a deeply affectionate kid, and one the world hadn't dirtied at all. No wonder she'd sunk into a gloom over nothing more than a part-time coworker quitting. Seeing her brighten put him in a good mood.
"Got a taxi. Hop in."
"M-Manager!"
Before she got in, Jo Sua looked at him. Her lips parted and closed.
"What?"
"Um... it's..."
She kept starting to speak and stopping.
"Never mind. I'll call you. Please pick up."
"I will. See you next time."
"Yes!"
Monday, ten in the morning. Prosecutor Choi Hyunwook's office, Seoul Southern District Prosecutors' Office.
"Do you really think that makes any sense?"
Prosecutor Choi Hyunwook snapped, temper flaring. The lawyer across from him didn't so much as flinch. If anything, he wore the gentle smile of a man watching an overeager child.
"Prosecutor Choi. What about it doesn't make sense? My client bought the bitcoin himself, and recently recovered the bitcoin he had lost. By any common-sense measure, isn't that far more reasonable than calling it criminal proceeds? Have you traced the flow of funds? Was there anything particularly strange in my client's financial trail?"
"Hah... Fine. Let's say that's the case. Then why won't you show us the wallet? Isn't it because you've done something wrong?"
"Surely that's my client's prerogative. If you want to see it, come back with a warrant. We'll cooperate fully."
If the prosecutor was infantry with a single sword, the lawyer was an iron fortress. There was simply no gap to breach. Thanks to a lawyer who shut down every angle perfectly, Kim Taeyoung had nothing to do. He sat there like a sack of barley propped in the corner, utterly idle.
"Counsel. No—Senior. Can't we just do this the easy way? I'll admit the chance of a crime here is low. So why not show the wallet history and close the case?"
"Junior. That won't do. My client's wishes are firm. Bring a warrant, and we'll show you."
In movies and dramas, warrants flew out at the drop of a hat. In reality they didn't come that easily. A judge issued one only when a prosecutor or the police arrived with solid evidence.
Which was why a warrant to open Kim Taeyoung's wallet would not be easy to get. His record was too clean. Not a single criminal conviction, and only one trip overseas, ten years ago. The money moving through his accounts was spotless too.
Unless coins had dropped out of the sky, the statement that he'd bought bitcoin twelve years ago and simply forgotten about it was highly credible.
"Prosecutor. If there's nothing more to ask, I think we'll be going. Is that all right?"
"Yes... please do. But we may call you in again."
"That's your discretion, Prosecutor. We'll be off. Shall we, sir?"
A former insider, they called him. The ex-prosecutor the major firm had assigned simply rolled over his junior. Thanks to that, the whole interview was done in two hours.
The witness interview had been a fight Kim Taeyoung couldn't lose. His lawyer only had to hide how he had come by the coins. No—from the lawyer's perspective, there was nothing to hide. He believed what Kim Taeyoung had told him.
Take that one piece out, and everything else was true. The prosecutor, meanwhile, had to hunt for a hidden crime across a mountain of material tied to Kim Taeyoung. He had never committed a crime and never been mixed up in one, so there was nothing to find.
The single risk was a warrant being issued and the wallet opened. If they traced the coins inside back to their original owner, it might have been dangerous. But what sat beside Kim Taeyoung was a major firm and a former-prosecutor lawyer. No warrant was going to issue for a client whose chance of criminality was vanishingly small, and even if the prosecutor lost his mind and thrashed, the firm's weight could smooth it over.
"Thank you for your work."
The moment they stepped out of the office, Kim Taeyoung bowed. He'd paid a fat retainer for the service, but gratitude was still gratitude. The lawyer returned the bow.
"You did well yourself, sir."
There hadn't been much to do. For every question that came in, he only had to parrot, My lawyer will answer that.
"But, Counsel. What's going to happen with Corea TV freezing my cash-out request? I need that money to come in."
"Once the no-charge disposition comes down, it should resolve itself. If things drag, contact me again. I'll assert your legal rights."
"Yes. Thank you. I'll try calling Corea TV for now."