To Korea (3)
Click.
The cold metallic snap shattered the silence in the interview room.
Silver bracelets clamped around Kim Ji-hoon's wrists.
Handcuffs.
"Kim Ji-hoon, you're under arrest for Evasion of Compulsory Execution."
The detective recited the Miranda rights in a perfunctory tone.
"You have the right to an attorney, the right to remain silent..."
Ji-hoon glanced down at his wrists.
Hands that had once touched the Medal of Freedom awarded by the US President, now shackled by the police of his homeland.
Was there any blacker comedy than this?
"I'm a US citizen," Ji-hoon said quietly.
"You should hold off securing my person until you contact the US Embassy."
But the detective shook his head firmly.
"This is the Republic of Korea, sir."
That was the correct answer.
The principle of Territorial Principle.
No matter how much of a citizen of the land of the free he was, if there was a valid arrest warrant issued by Korean prosecutors for a crime on Korean soil, the Korean police had the sovereignty to enforce it.
Even the US government had no authority to physically obstruct legitimate law enforcement on Korean territory.
"And," the detective added,
"We're arresting not the current American Kim Ji-hoon, but the Korean Kim Ji-hoon who committed crimes in the past."
This was the core justification the police used for detention.
Nationality at the time of the crime.
Just because Ji-hoon had changed his nationality to American didn't erase the crimes he'd committed as a Korean back then.
The Korean judicial system was merely mechanically executing the warrant issued against the past "Korean Kim Ji-hoon."
The past had grabbed him by the ankle.
"......"
Ji-hoon offered no further resistance.
Struggling now would only add a charge of obstruction of official duties.
"Let's go."
The detectives grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet.
Led by them, Ji-hoon exited the interview room—not through the public gate, but via the restricted access area for officials, heading to the underground parking lot.
Even in that short distance, he couldn't escape the stares.
Airport staff, janitors, and a few passing travelers whispered as they eyed the handcuffed man.
"What? Drug offender?"
"He's in cuffs?"
"Young guy, tsk tsk."
Humiliation crawled up his spine.
Ji-hoon bit his lip hard.
A police car waited in the underground lot, lights flashing.
The rear door swung open.
A cramped back seat caged with bars.
A cargo hold for criminals.
The detective pressed down on Ji-hoon's head, shoving him inside.
"Get in."
Thud.
Ji-hoon crammed his body onto the hard seat.
Soon, two detectives flanked him on either side.
Complete encirclement.
The driver radioed in.
"Suspect secured. Moving out."
The police car roared to life and pulled away.
Destination: the nearest station from the airport.
Incheon Yeongjong Police Station.
The glittering scenery of Incheon Airport rushed past the window.
With shackled hands resting on his knees, Ji-hoon stared at the receding terminal.
Lily was somewhere in there.
His wife, trembling in fear.
And the grandmother's funeral hall waiting for him.
Forcibly isolated from it all, he was headed to a cold holding cell.
But.
The louder the police siren wailed, the colder Ji-hoon's gaze grew.
Incheon Yeongjong Police Station, Intellectual Crime Investigation Team interrogation room.
A slanted afternoon sun filtered through the barred window, but the air inside remained cold and dry.
Tap, tap-tap.
The only sound breaking the silence was the detective's hunt-and-peck typing on the keyboard.
Ji-hoon sat across from the metal desk.
One wrist cuffed to a ring fixed to the table.
Treated like a beast, yet his expression remained calmly composed.
"Alright, Kim Ji-hoon."
The detective handling the report leaned over the monitor.
A face worn by fatigue.
To him, Ji-hoon was just another "deadbeat debtor caught after fleeing abroad."
"Let's confirm your details. Hometown Seoul... current residence Berkeley, California, USA?"
"......"
"What's your occupation? Restaurant owner?"
"......"
"Hey, don't ignore me—answer up. Then we can wrap this up quick and you can rest in holding."
The detective clicked his ballpoint pen irritably.
Most suspects would cave by now, spilling details or whining about their innocence.
But Ji-hoon just stared back, lips sealed.
The detective sighed heavily.
"Kim Ji-hoon, do you get your situation? Evasion of Compulsory Execution—up to three years in prison. No settlement with the victim means indictment and detention."
He laid down the threat.
"Think your US citizenship lets you thumb your nose? This is Korea. Ever hear of Territorial Principle? Crime on Korean soil, Korean law applies. No one's protecting you."
The detective was half right, half wrong.
The Korean police certainly had sovereignty to arrest and investigate him.
But that didn't strip Ji-hoon of his rights as a suspect.
The strongest protections under the Korean Constitution and international law.
Ji-hoon slowly opened his mouth.
"Detective."
"Ah, finally talking. Good, what's your job?"
"Contact the US Embassy."
"......What?"
The detective's hand froze.
Ji-hoon continued with clear eyes.
"Vienna Convention Article 36. When a foreigner is arrested or detained, they have the right to notify their country's consular office and meet with them."
"Ha..."
The detective let out a disbelieving chuckle.
"Come on, Kim Ji-hoon. You filming a movie? Consular access?"
"It's my right."
"Fine, whatever. First, let's finish the—"
"No."
Ji-hoon cut him off.
"Until consular access is requested and granted, I'll exercise my right to silence. Not a word."
"Hey!"
The detective slammed the desk.
"Cooperate! You think calling the embassy changes anything? The charges are clear, warrant's issued!"
Ji-hoon didn't flinch at the shout.
The detective didn't know.
This wasn't mere stonewalling.
Ji-hoon knew.
Police had a legal obligation to notify the relevant consulate without delay if a suspect requested consular access.
Ignore or deliberately delay it?
A massive diplomatic blunder violating bilateral agreements between the US and Korea.
"Contact them. Right now."
Ji-hoon's steady voice echoed in the room.
The detective smacked his lips and raked a hand through his hair roughly.
A pained expression—he'd hit a headache.
"Damn... you're a real pain."
Grumbling, he picked up the receiver.
He called the station's investigation support team.
Even under territorial principle, a US citizen boldly citing statutes demanded caution.
Better check to avoid procedural screw-ups later.
Foreigners rarely got nabbed for this kind of charge anyway.
"Yeah, this is Detective Park from Intel Crimes."
A soft female voice answered from the receiver.
Station desk jobs were usually staffed heavy with female officers.
"Yes, Detective? What can I do?"
"Got a suspect who just came in—US citizen. Keeps demanding we call the embassy. Gotta do it right away? He's yapping about the Vienna Convention."
The detective roughly explained Ji-hoon's details and situation.
Keyboard taps sounded briefly on the other end.
"Kim Ji-hoon... US national..."
A beat of silence.
Then the female officer's tone shifted slightly.
"Detective, is this that Kim Ji-hoon?"
"That Kim Ji-hoon? Who?"
"The guy blowing up the news and internet lately. The 'deadbeat deadbeat' who ditched his ex-wife's alimony and fled to America."
"Huh? No idea."
The detective tilted his head.
Too buried in assault cases to follow celeb gossip.
"Detective, you gotta watch the news. Anyway, yeah, it's him."
A subtle hostility laced her voice.
She'd consumed the recent barrage of hit pieces from the Ministry of Gender Equality and media.
Shameless deadbeat who stiffed his ex.
That was Kim Ji-hoon in her mind.
"So, do we call the consulate or not?"
Prodded, she paused, then whispered low.
"Strictly speaking, yes, notify without delay..."
"But?"
"In practice... you can stall about 48 hours."
"48 hours?"
"Yeah. Admin processing can 'delay'—system errors on ID verification, handler out, whatever."
A sly offer slipped through her voice.
"I'll hold the notification doc 48 hours on some clerical mix-up or procedure check."
"Oh... that work?"
"Just ramp up the interrogation and get a confession in that window. He's a criminal anyway."
No hesitation from her.
To her, Ji-hoon was the "enemy of women" and a "law-dodging fugitive."
No need to handhold rights for trash like that.
Plus.
"And Detective, this is your shot."
"Shot?"
"Word is, even assembly members are watching this case. Rumor the Gender Minister's personally involved."
"......!"
"Nail this right, and... performance review? You could expect good things."
Promotion.
Sweeter word to a low-paid, overworked detective? None.
The detective's eyes gleamed.
Life returned to his weary face.
"For real?"
"Yeah. Support'll fudge the paperwork. You just investigate hard."
"Haha, got it. Dinner's on me later."
Click.
The call ended.
The detective set down the receiver, a sly grin curling his lips.