Chapter 223
Chapter 223
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 223
Chapter Title: Stars Falling (1)
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The long drive to Cheongju Women's Prison. I'd even gone out of my way to buy some proper food to bring along, but former cult leader Park Geum-deok's face lit up not with welcome, but with shock at the sight of me.
"Gasp! Y-You... you heretic scum! Why the hell are you here? You snake who deserves divine punishment! Gasp...!"
And then, spotting Uncle Kim Won-cheol standing beside me, she recoiled for a second time.
"W-What? Even the newbie bald devotee...?"
At least it seemed like my uncle's face had stuck with her from the infiltration op at the Garden of the Lord.
Now she was outright furious, ranting about how that bumbling act had all been fake.
"Heh heh heh. Looks like you didn't know about that part."
"Wouldn't be surprised. Dude looks half out of his mind now anyway."
Her disheveled hair, ragged nails, gaunt frame, and sunken cheeks.
Park Geum-deok had clearly been pushed to her breaking point here. Sure, it was fitting punishment for someone who'd plotted to kidnap Princess Hina and rip out the hearts of two Jewish guys.
"On top of that, doesn't look like she's treated great in here. Beatings still a thing?"
A visual check of her health confirmed it was in rough shape.
Constant bullying was a given, especially for someone like her with no outside support after hitting rock bottom.
Tap, tap, tap. Her upper and lower teeth chattered nonstop as her legs shook.
I'd taken it all in clearly, so right there, I made my decision.
I was recruiting her.
"Look, no need for long talks. You didn't even believe in that cult you started, Park Geum-deok. It was just a money-making scheme."
"You're one to talk, the bastard who wrecked my whole life over it?"
"Yeah, why drag Princess Hina into it and cause all this mess... Anyway, putting that aside."
Rustle. I flipped through the documents Uncle Kim Won-cheol handed me, page by page.
The first-trial verdict laid out the hellish sentence a stern judge had diligently handed down for her.
"Let's see. Park Geum-deok, first trial: eleven years in prison?"
"Urk...!"
And attached to the back of the verdict: the appeal filing.
Surprisingly, it wasn't from Park Geum-deok begging for another look in high court.
It was the prosecution demanding a deeper dig into her crimes.
"Second trial, huh. And the prosecutors piling on extra charges to jack it up?"
"......"
A plausible appeal beefed up with some forced reasoning.
Park Geum-deok's legs shook so hard the table rattled. I stepped closer, shoved the appeal papers in her face to scare her a bit.
"Minimum fifteen years. Hell, maybe even twenty. Looks like God's already ditched you."
"You cursed wretch! How dare you flap your mouth!"
"That's why I'm flapping it."
Rip, rip.
The stack of papers tore with a sharp crack.
I kicked the fluttering scraps aside like falling snow, then held out my empty hands.
"Your life's in my hands. Eleven years? Or fifteen, twenty? Up to me."
"What...?"
"Play nice, and factoring in parole, you're looking at seven to eight. Plus a transfer to solitary. Why be so damn stubborn?"
Shorten the sentence. Escape the harassment from the other inmates.
With solid bait in hand, I dangled the carrot on a string in front of her eyes and got Uncle Kim Won-cheol's nod.
"Right?"
"Nothing's impossible in this world. Especially for our Chairman, who gets along great with the Justice Minister."
Uncle Kim Won-cheol followed up, reminding her of Uncle's parole story and Ammunition Group's pull.
Her nails torn to the bloody quick, Park Geum-deok jammed her fingers in her mouth, mumbling nonstop.
"Seven years with parole. Solitary transfer too...."
"Yeah, purely theoretical. But turning theory into reality? That's on you, Park Geum-deok."
"What... what do I have to do?"
Her tone had flipped to polite now that she'd decided.
I reached into my briefcase and replied.
"Simple."
Thud. I set a pen and notebook on the table.
"You've lived in Naju for decades, ran a cult in the underworld. You know the local scene inside out."
From now on, I'd get the latest intel.
Fresh testimony from someone who's tangled with the native gangs for decades.
I pressed the pen into her hand, flashed a friendly smile, and added one final plea.
"Write everything up to recent stuff. Everything you know about Jo Seok-gu, that Honam organized crime boss."
* * * *
A Korean restaurant near Cheongju Women's Prison.
Clink. Uncle Kim Won-cheol set his chopsticks down on the earthenware bowl, appetite gone.
"This is no joke... way bigger than I thought."
The latest rundown on Honam gangsters we'd gotten from Park Geum-deok hours ago.
I'd approached it just to confirm... but it cast a shadow bigger than expected.
"Honestly, Jo Seok-gu, JL Savings Bank—thought it was just some rural thugs striking it rich."
"I figured the same. But."
Connections between financial elites tied by high school alumni networks and the gangsters.
Even if Jo Seok-gu embezzled from savings bank clients, it would've flown under the radar for a while—obvious as day.
"They haven't moved big yet, but hit at the right time... Ammunition Group falls in a flash."
"First, break out of the circular investment structure ASAP. If not, reinforce our shares."
"I'll scoop up as many as we can with spare cash. They don't know the control structure yet anyway."
In the end, it all hinged on Ammunition Group's control structure.
Before they figured it out... I had to lock down my management rights.
"Give it a month. They'll need prep time to move too... Huh?"
Right on cue, my phone buzzed annoyingly.
"Sister Seo-hee?"
It was Han Seo-hee, CEO of <Cocoa>, overseeing all Ammunition Group's finances.
"Yeah, what's up?"
Her voice sharper than usual, like a headache brewing.
Looked like Han Seo-ho, planted in <Cocoa>'s audit role, had screwed up.
"Got it. Keep watching—if he gets near the control structure, cut his access immediately."
The call ended after some solid instructions.
"What happened? Why Han Seo-ho?"
Uncle Kim Won-cheol's face full of question marks and curiosity.
I rinsed my mouth with the post-meal omija tea and answered.
"The planted ransomware's finally earning its keep. A month's too slow. Speed it up."
* * * *
<Cocoa> Classified Information Management Center.
Han Seo-ho glared at the screen flashing access restrictions, starting to lose it.
"Goddamn it... why can't I pull up the info?!"
Bang, bang!
He tried passwords over and over, but login kept failing.
Frustrated, he squeezed his eyes shut, wiggling his toes as he recalled the recent JL Savings Bank mess.
-Big one-trillion-won play, so our Han Seo-ho auditor's gotta put his all into it, yeah?
Jo Seok-gu grinning at him over video call, brandishing a bloody knife.
-Get it quick as you can. How Ammunition Group's control structure's set up. Can't walk straight without toes.
That chilling image still burned in his brain. A chill ran to Han Seo-ho's toes.
Anxious, he vented his rage nonstop.
"They stuck me with the auditor title at <Cocoa>! Should mean access to secret ledgers too!"
"What are you doing right now? Auditor Han Seo-ho?"
And then.
Someone appeared out of nowhere.
"Han Seo-hee, you..."
"Use proper titles at the company. Forgot?"
It was Han Seo-hee.
"Hoo, CEO Han Seo-hee."
"We're siblings, no need to butt heads here. Why's the auditor trying to access classified docs?"
"Oh, uh, you know. Building some creds on financial structure improvements."
Han Seo-ho tried to bluff with a lame excuse.
He even put on a crappy acting performance, making excuses to his arch-nemesis little sister.
"I'm already on thin ice—if I slack, it's back to Nigeria! Just trying to do something... don't make me out to be the bad guy...."
"Fine, got it. Finish up."
Unlike what Han Seo-ho thought, Han Seo-hee didn't grill him or make a fuss.
She just turned away, muttering one pitying line under her breath.
"Dumbass big bro."
Her steps echoed down the long hallway as she grimaced.
"Just stay quiet like a dead rat—can't even manage that? Small-time vessel?"
The future unfolding before her was crystal clear.
All she could do was pity how he—and their dad—were mere pawns in her cousin brother's grand design.
"Han Seo-jun's watching it all from above, and he doesn't even know. Huh...?"
She wrapped up her scheduled report and headed back to her office.
That's when a faint... ominous feeling crawled up her spine to the top of her head.
Her eyes landed on one foreboding text.
"Ammunition Medical Center...?"
A stark black-and-white message on the monochrome screen.
That dry text signaled the curtain rising on the tragedy enveloping Ammunition Group.
-April 2nd, 3:40 PM. Director Seo Myung-hee has passed away. Family members, please come to the hospital immediately to handle funeral arrangements.
* * * *
Seo Taehu's final moments.
As if burning through her last scraps of life, she opened her closed eyes and spoke clearly.
"Hey, nurse."
"Director, the oxygen mask...!"
"No fuss. Just bring paper and a pen."
Seo Taehu yanked off even the cumbersome oxygen mask.
Return of the light before death, they called it. After battling illness, her eyes shone brightest as she eyed the clock hands.
Like counting down.
"Hah, guess the grim reaper gave me a brief reprieve for this."
Pen and paper ready in no time.
Tears welled as her trembling hand pressed each character firmly onto the page.
"Please, please... don't ruin yourself with foolish choices...."
Her final will.
Not for anyone else—just for her second son, Han Hwa-gi.
Excluding shares, she bequeathed all cash and real estate to him.
Deep down, she knew.
What choice that pathetic second son would make next.
That's why... even if it meant exhausting her frail life force, she had to block that future.
"If you're resentful toward your mother, let this wash it away... Hack! Hack!"
"Director!"
She finished the will, coughing up blood.
Dipping her thumb in the blood at her lips, she pressed her seal onto it before collapsing.
Ammunition Group's lady of the house, a titan of her era, was falling.
And one mother... was falling.
"So you don't squander... your last chance... with overreaching ambition...."