Don't Trust the Police 2: Separate Investigations and Prosecutions
"The police requested a search and seizure warrant for Cyber Wrecker Han Jin's channel and smartphone, citing the crime of using telecommunications media to commit obscenity."
"That's right."
"Yet most of the content in the statement concerns so-called cyber defamation under Article 70 of the Information and Communications Network Act."
"Yes, the investigation focused mainly on that. To be honest, my mouth is foul, but I don't think I sexually harassed that bastard. That bitch."
"According to a recent Supreme Court precedent, even if a search warrant was obtained on separate grounds and a statement was made based on it, the statement constitutes illegally obtained evidence and cannot be used as proof of criminal charges."
Oh my God!!! Han Seo-rin and Park Tae-gi exclaimed in unison. So this is the power of the second-ranked graduate from the Judicial Research and Training Institute?
"You're incredible, Attorney."
Han Seo-rin's lower body grew wet.
"Sasuga, Rice Farmer! Sex-specialist lawyer Suk Ho-pil!!"
Park Tae-gi leapt to his feet and began clapping like a seal.
Clap clap clap! Clap clap clap!
"Thank you, Attorney. Does that mean I'll be cleared of charges?"
Cyber Wrecker Han Jin's face lit up.
"Hohoho. I didn't call myself a sex specialist for nothing. With me, victory is the only outcome."
Suk Ho-pil folded his arms and struck the pose from the law firm's homepage. He promptly dumped the tedious tasks of drafting and submitting the opinion letter on Associate Attorney Han Seo-rin and paralegal Park Tae-gi, then left the office with the client for dinner.
To encourage the two who stayed behind for overtime, he ordered premium sushi delivery—mackerel gunkan-maki and futomaki—from a high-end sushi restaurant. At the Hanwoo beef restaurant, Suk Ho-pil had the wealthy Han Jin order five servings of the finest sirloin.
"Can you finish all that?"
"Of course. If there's any left, I'll take it back to the office and give it to the mutt—er, Park Tae-gi."
"Hahahaha. Park Tae-gi looked pretty heavy."
"That guy's life motto is 'short and thick.' Booze, cigarettes, meat, and women—he goes crazy for all of them."
"Whew… At first I thought he was a lawyer."
"He does look like a total otaku nerd. Classic rice-farmer face."
"Come on, let's eat. Indulge as much as you like."
"Then I'll enjoy this meal with a happy heart."
"I get the feeling I'll be seeing Rice Farmer again in the future."
That was true. Some people never set foot in a police station or consult a lawyer their entire lives, while others constantly generate legal trouble around them. A lawyer's business doesn't come from scattering business cards outside prosecutors' offices or detention centers. These days, consultations via the internet and messenger apps have become common, but those cases are nothing but small fry.
People make a fuss about AI drafting complaints for small-claims lawsuits (under 30 million won), but even before AI existed, such cases were hardly worth the effort—more trouble than they were worth. Clients often handled them alone, and lawyers avoided them because they weren't profitable and required too much formality. In other words, the big, lucrative cases start with keeping troublemakers like Cyber Wrecker Han Jin in good humor.
That doesn't mean groveling is enough. A lawyer must project dignity. When that dignity is paired with genuine kindness, the client comes to trust the rice farmer completely and returns whenever trouble arises.
"By the way, you've been operating anonymously, wearing that mask that looks like a Hahoe mask."
"Yes, that's right."
"How do you know BJ Jeup-serin?"
"There's a league of our own. YouTubers, video creators, and influencers may call themselves underground broadcasters, but there are levels even among them."
"Really?"
"You get to know people through various channels. In my case, while doing some money laundering through Exer broadcasts, I ended up meeting certain shoulders and sisters."
"I heard tax evasion is difficult that way. The fee is fifty percent—why go through all that trouble?"
"Try handling over ten billion won. There's no way to launder that much through legitimate channels. The National Tax Service is terrifying."
"True. Once they mark you, no one escapes."
Since ancient times, Korea's National Tax Service has functioned as an investigative agency. Those in power deploy it to eliminate political rivals. No one survives. There's a famous anecdote about Dr. Yoo of the former Yoo XX Bank—after being thoroughly investigated, not a speck of dust was found, and the then-ruler was so impressed he awarded him a commendation instead. Whether true or not, the man was truly remarkable. Even in the era before the real-name financial transaction system, when nominee accounts were possible and credit cards didn't exist, making tax evasion far easier, he paid his taxes diligently and only did good deeds.
"But how can a person live only in clean water, Attorney? I sometimes wonder whether paying taxes honestly is truly justice."
"You sound quite educated, unlike your on-air persona, Mr. Han Jin."
"I'm just an ordinary person. Though I suppose you could call me a petty bourgeois who feels rage at the double taxation of inheritance tax on top of income tax. You only understand once you've experienced it."
"You're absolutely right. You pay income tax on your earnings, then have to pay inheritance tax again at murderous rates."
People say that paying a lot of inheritance tax is simply the burden of high earners and nothing to worry about. But that mindset is wrong. The inheritance tax deduction limit is 600 million won. Anyone with even a modest amount of real estate exhausts the entire deduction with that one property. Everything beyond that is taxed at a minimum of 40 percent, up to over 60 percent. Commoners pay a few thousand, the middle class pays hundreds of millions, and even business owners have to sell their companies and emigrate. In the end, it only harms the Korean economy. Why did communist states collapse? Because they denied private property in defiance of human instinct. Who would work hard then? If people take their assets overseas, national wealth simply drains away. Korea already ranks high in overseas migration among the wealthy.
"The absurd part is that China has no inheritance tax, Attorney."
"Really? That can't be. Isn't China a communist country?"
"It's true. Look it up."
A quick smartphone search confirmed it. Unbelievable…
"Haa, well, there's that saying that the Chinese People's Congress is basically a parents' meeting for Chinese students studying on the U.S. East Coast."
"That's why China will never defy the United States. After all, China is the world's factory, and America's trade deficit with China simply means the U.S. is the country that makes the most use of Chinese labor."
"You're quite knowledgeable about world affairs as well."
"I'm no expert, but being a cyber wrecker isn't easy either. I have to spread money around to informants, buy them meals, and entertain them."
"In that case, why not just lobby the police investigation division chief directly?"
"Wearing a mask and broadcasting on the internet? Not exactly feasible. From now on, I suppose I'll have to start building those connections."
"I'll stop here. I'm a lawyer who has to live in the light. That sounds dangerous."
"Hahaha! You're surprisingly timid."
"I'm planning to run for the National Assembly someday. Who knows—President Suk Ho-pil might change this country."
"Looks like I'll have to make a political donation in advance. Can't give it once you have that assembly badge."
"An excellent choice. More than donations, if you could refer cases to Law Firm Sukphil and call me whenever trouble arises, that would be the same as donating."
"If Attorney Suk Ho-pil becomes president, will this country really change?"
"Politicians are determined by the level of the nation's citizens. Law Firm Sukphil intends to save men who are unjustly accused of sex crimes under the principle of presumed guilt."
"Your ideals are impressive."
"It may not seem like much, but when you're the one directly involved, it becomes an enormous matter."
Suk Ho-pil began recounting cases he had witnessed, one by one. Though the incidents were extraordinary, he recounted them discreetly, altered to protect client confidentiality.
"Most importantly, whenever the police call you, make sure to bring a lawyer. Never trust the police."
"Yes, I understand."
"I'm not saying the police are bad. They're simply public servants whose job is to turn suspects into convicts. They're just doing their job, and I'm helping people like you, Mr. Han Jin, who are in trouble and innocent."
"Understood. I'll keep that in mind. But those despicable bitches—what about charging them with false accusation?"
"Even if you charge them with false accusation, at best they'll get a suspended sentence, at worst a suspension of indictment. The police often don't even indict at all."
"Why?"
"Why do you think? There must have been some basis for it, so it was handled as insufficient evidence rather than outright acquittal. If false accusation charges were handed out freely, people wouldn't report crimes even when victimized. That's why applying false accusation charges should be avoided whenever possible."
"Whew… This country is fucked."
"And above all, Korean criminal law is extremely lenient toward women. Crimes that would get the death penalty result in twenty years. Even for the same violent crimes—murder, robbery, rape—when a woman commits them, she gets half the sentence a man would. Most female crimes in Korea are fraud. And fraud is basically murder to ordinary people. It's having their entire life's savings stolen."
Yet the punishment is a slap on the wrist. Koreans are truly kind. The fact that such criminals walk the streets instead of being stabbed with knives says it all.
"We're a peace-loving people, after all. That's why I wear a mask similar to a Hahoe mask."
"The truth of Korea—you're not just an ordinary cyber wrecker, are you?"
"Well, I do pursue justice. But in reality, I do this wrecker stuff just for the money. Since we seem to be on the same wavelength, Attorney, shall we go for round two?"
"Oh my, round two sounds good. These days there are no room salons left to play in."
"Hahaha! Instead of room salons disappearing, what appeared?"
"Exer broadcasts, of course. All the young, pretty girls who used to work as call girls have moved over to internet broadcasting."
"Who do you think I am? How else would I know Jeup-serin? Let's go. If we drop by the after-party for an Exer broadcast, that place is basically a room salon."
"Really?"
Suk Ho-pil's heart raced at Han Jin's suggestion. At the same time, he felt like he might collapse on the spot.
[Just how does Jeup-serin—Do Je-ni—know this guy?]
While part of him wanted to peel the stalker Serin away, another part desired to make her his own personal female. With complicated feelings, Suk Ho-pil followed Han Jin toward the Exer broadcast after-party venue.