Police Station Cover-Up
Shin Jaewoo arrived at the police station by car. To be precise, he'd left Park Mi-ja in the care of her son, Kim Do-hoon, and stepped out. Kim Seon-woong was unconscious anyway, so there was no point in visiting. 'Even if I stayed by his side, what could I do?'
He simply headed slowly to the admissions office.
"About that Kim Seon-woong patient who came into the ER earlier..."
"Yes. Is there something wrong?"
"Has the surgery fee or hospitalization cost come up yet?"
"Ah, that's usually settled at discharge..."
"I want to prepay for now. I have to head back soon."
He glanced back over his shoulder.
"...Without the other family knowing."
The admissions nurse understood Shin Jaewoo's intent right away. She nodded.
"Got it."
The payment was processed immediately. Shin Jaewoo prepaid ten million won as a deposit. The amount made the office staff do a double-take.
"T-Ten million won?"
"Let me know if it's not enough. Here..."
Shin Jaewoo pulled a business card from the admissions desk and jotted down his number.
"If more comes up, just call this. If it's hard to come in person, I can wire it right away."
"If I may ask, what's your relationship to the patient...?"
It was a question she probably should have asked first.
"He's a friend's dad."
"Ah."
She looked surprised. Leaving the nurse behind, Shin Jaewoo headed to the parking lot.
'Can't just let this slide here.'
That Lamborghini. Fortunately, Song Jin-ho—who'd been with Kim Seon-woong—had described its key features: the accident location and time, the model...
'And even the license plate. Impressive memory.'
Song Jin-ho had memorized the plate number. With that, tracking the owner would be straightforward. He'd said as much himself.
"The cops took our black box too. And if they find that Lambo owner, odds are they're the ones at fault, not us. Fucking bastard."
The Lamborghini driver who'd been drunk. White Lamborghini Huracán. Daejeon 82 Ga 3487.
"This time, they were the problem."
He'd catch them, no matter what. With that resolve burning, Shin Jaewoo called Lee Jinmyeong right away. It was late, but not yet dawn. He'd pick up for sure.
And as expected, he answered before the third ring.
"Yes, Director. What can I do for you?"
"Need you to track someone down. A car, specifically."
"A vehicle... you mean?"
Lee Jinmyeong's voice carried clear curiosity. Shin Jaewoo explained the situation: he'd met up with friends, and one of their dads had gotten into an accident. Then the details he'd heard.
"Dad swerved hard to avoid a car barreling over the center line. Oh, and just in case, look into a lawyer too."
In their eyes, Kim Seon-woong was an innocent victim. But legally? Who knew.
'They could pin him as the at-fault driver.'
He had to prevent that. Shin Jaewoo's gaze turned icy.
"The top firm... KJ if possible."
Korea’s most prestigious law firm—practically symbolic.
"Doesn't matter the retainer fee. Tell them to assemble the best team."
"I'll handle everything as you direct, sir."
Lee Jinmyeong's responses were always reliable.
"...I'm counting on you, Chief Secretary."
"Leave it to me. With the plate number, it won't take long."
The police would investigate anyway, and they might even be faster. But for some reason, it gnawed at Shin Jaewoo.
'There's that saying: "Money buys innocence, poverty buys guilt."'
He wouldn't let that happen in Korea. If the other side threw money around, he'd throw more.
"Oh."
On that note, he added,
"Just contact the top ten firms in the country. Have them handle it jointly."
Pure extravagance. Hiring even one was a fortune for average folks. But Shin Jaewoo still wasn't satisfied.
"Only the very best from each."
The priciest lawyers from every firm—dozens in total. They'd represent Kim Seon-woong.
With an awkward expression, he continued,
"And..."
"More instructions, sir?"
"...I probably owe some traffic fines too. I sped a bit rushing to the hospital."
He'd been caught plenty.
"Ah, I'll make sure that's handled smoothly—no issues."
"No, that won't do. Speeding fines are what they are—pocket change. Just check if I can turn myself in. If yes, handle it first."
Lee Jinmyeong thought to himself: This boss of mine has some quirks.
The black box from the truck—a piece of evidence at the station. The officer about to review it froze.
"Sir! What brings you here, Chief?"
"Hey. That accident on OO Road? The one where the truck crossed lanes and hit a young guy coming the other way."
"Ah, yeah, I was just about to check the black box."
The chief scowled.
"Don't bother. Just forward it straight to the prosecutors as is. The truck did cross lanes and hit him, right?"
"True, but... the passenger in the truck said a Lamborghini came barreling over the center line, so the driver swerved to avoid it..."
If that held up, the truck driver had grounds for mitigation.
"If that's true, it could be seen as justified evasion..."
"Whoa, whoa, Jo Chan-woong. Why complicate things?"
The chief shook his head.
"Huh?"
"Do as I say. Write it up factually and send to the prosecutors. If they need more evidence later, fill in the gaps then. Got it?"
"But Chief..."
"Hey now. You implying I'm telling you to fabricate something?"
The chief put his hands on his hips, glaring threateningly at his subordinate.
"I'm saying process it as is. As is. Can't even do that?"
"...No, sir."
"If anything fishy comes up, they'll handle the defense and evidence. You? Wash your hands and forward to prosecutors."
"...Understood."
Jo Chan-woong bowed his head. He still didn't get it, but the chief wasn't wrong.
"Alright then, I'm off. Oh, that... black box data?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Hmm. Send that to prosecutors too. They'll decide on indictment or not. Okay?"
"Yes, sir!"
"I'm going now?"
"Yes, sir! At ease!"
"Good. Keep up the good work."
Jo Chan-woong saluted until the chief was gone. Lowering his hand to his waist, he muttered,
"Fuck. That chief bastard shows up out of nowhere like this—reeks of something rotten..."
What if it blew up later? If SNS or media sniffed it out and pointed fingers at the initial investigators?
'The public would demand my name, my badge, disciplinary action—me taking all the heat.'
He could already picture it. Of course, if it all buried quietly, great—but...
"Sigh."
Jo Chan-woong let out a heavy breath.
"This stinks way too dirty..."
Otherwise, why would the chief drop by at this hour? One reason: rush a sloppy handoff to prosecutors.
'Forwarding to prosecutors doesn't bury it.'
If trouble hit, he'd name-drop the chief. With that, Jo Chan-woong started drafting the paperwork. Off to the prosecutors.
Meanwhile, the departing chief was on the phone.
"Hahaha. No worries. Your son's not involved—we're sending the truck driver straight to prosecutors. Done deal. Of course. Why summon your boy over something like this? Ah, the black box?"
The chief smirked slyly.
"Don't sweat it. We'll conveniently lose it en route to prosecutors. Easy peasy. Hahaha. No need to worry."
All evidence would vanish. Just the truck driver recovering, and one passenger's testimony.
"Why would the authorities buy statements from the perp and accomplice? Hahaha."
The truck driver had already been vetted: president of a small-time logistics firm. No clout to fight back. Injuries aside, they'd miss contract deadlines hauling client goods.
And beyond that...
'Plenty of damaged cargo from the crash too.'
Simple case, the chief figured.