Justice Is Dead (1)

The interrogation room at the National Police Agency was a square of space, neither cramped nor wide. A fluorescent lamp burned bright over the table, while the corners lay buried in pitch dark.

Kim Seungjoon was led to a chair by the prosecutor and his people.

A cold stillness clung to the room. His lips felt baked to cracking, and the handcuffs on his wrists shivered, ticking out a thin rattle of metal.

The prosecutor sat down in front of him with a file in hand. Across the table, a lawyer in an expensive suit watched him, a hard light flashing in his eyes.

Their presence struck against each other, and the tension wound tighter.

"Mr. Kim Seungjoon, you're going to have to speak honestly."

He lifted his head just far enough to look at the prosecutor, then jerked his gaze away, fear getting there first.

He wished it were all a dream. Even now, every part of him wanted to bolt.

The lawyer at his side leaned in and whispered, perfectly calm.

"Mr. Kim Seungjoon, there's no need to tell them everything. If a question hurts you, just say you don't know. Say you don't remember."

He gave a small nod. The fear already sunk deep in his chest was not about to vanish in a breath.

The police had already finished every question they meant to ask.

"So Yongmun is the middleman?"

"Yes..."

The prosecutor shook his head.

"Then who is the supplier at the very top?"

He hesitated, then went on.

"That, I don't really..."

"You did well, Seungjoon."

The prosecutor shot a sidelong glare at the whispering lawyer and let out a thin sigh.

"Mr. Kim Seungjoon, you need to think carefully. This testimony alone can be weighed in your sentence. You're not a child."

His eyes wavered. The lawyer, watching every flicker, spoke into his ear.

"Whether a sentence gets reduced is the court's jurisdiction. An investigative agency can't guarantee it."

He said it without a tremor. Kim Seungjoon's eyes, though, were already locked on the prosecutor.

Not once in his life had he lived inside fear like this. He had been raised like a prince from the day he was born, and a handsome face had kept the road smooth beneath him. Everyone was kind. Everyone looked up.

A terror like this was something he had never even imagined.

"I-is a reduced sentence really possible...?"

The lawyer startled and whispered something else at his ear, but the word reduction had already driven itself in deep.

"That's right. Of course the investigation still has to run its course, but the mere fact that you testified can earn you a lighter sentence."

The prosecutor said it again, calm and even.

"You'll want to get out soon. Put out a new album. Sing again."

A sweet lure. Kim Seungjoon wanted out of reality as fast as he could get, and he was already swaying.

He forced the words out, voice shaking.

"I don't really know much either... Is it all right if I only say what I do know?"

The lawyer kept muttering at his ear. Kim Seungjoon was already gone, eyes rolling wild.

If it got him out of this hell quickly, he felt he could do anything.

"Yes. Say only what you know. That's fine. In a situation like this, even something small can help the investigation."

The prosecutor eased the air around him, as if to settle him down.

"Um, I don't know the details either, but did you know Blue Dust is made from magic crystals?"

The prosecutor's brow sank deeper.

"You probably wouldn't. It's made in tiny amounts, and they refine it once to wipe the residual trace of mana. Even if you'd had it analyzed, it wouldn't have shown up easily."

The prosecutor nodded, light and short.

"We expected as much. In any case, do you have information on the supplier?"

"That..."

Kim Seungjoon hesitated. The lawyer saw his opening and hurried a whisper to his ear, but it was already too late.

"I don't know exactly either, but I think a guild is involved. They're not the ones making all of it. I think they supply the magic crystals."

"Do you know anything about the one who manufactures it?"

Kim Seungjoon shook his head.

"I don't know the details. I only heard it from the Yongmun guys..."

The prosecutor's gaze drifted to the ceiling, sunk in thought.

"Still, it's obvious they're tied up with that guild in a big way. The money off Blue Dust has to be enormous, and yet they don't touch the business at all. They just supply the crystals and keep their mouths shut tight."

The prosecutor's brow creased, faintly interested.

"So where is that guild?"

Kim Seungjoon clenched his fists and shook. Whatever the lawyer said beside him, he shoved the man off with his shoulder and went on, careful, small.

Good. Very good.

Every day the obituaries of drug-trade monsters came in like glad tidings. Even ordinary Blue Dust users were turning themselves in with each day that passed, and the world was finally turning the way it ought to.

Yeah. This is what a country is supposed to look like.

Anyway, it was about time for Kim Seungjoon's trial. From everything I could tell, the man had been a precious little prince since the day he was born. Drop someone like that into a closed room and a little pressure, and he'd fold in no time and spill every last thing.

Honestly, who wants to go to prison? I sure don't.

Freedom is that sweet. You can't live without it.

I sat down at the laptop and opened the site Beomjoerang had built.

From here on, it was time to use With Crime.

Into the empty message window, I typed what needed saying, short and clean.

I closed the window and sat back.

Let's see what sentence comes down. The way things were moving, anyone who wasn't a complete idiot already knew that if they tried to fumble their way through this, public opinion would be annihilated.

Even so, I couldn't believe it. They had chewed through their own credibility so thoroughly that not a single person seemed to expect a proper verdict.

Not that this was some chance I was kindly offering them. I wanted their deaths to draw an even bigger crowd.

The mood out there was grim enough already. If the sentence landed like a prank from the kids next door, public opinion and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the people both would go up in flames.

Pull every eye onto them, then crush them.

The uproar would spin past anyone's grip after that. And it would do plenty of work toward dragging this country's justice system back into line.

The main courtroom of the Seoul Central District Court sat locked in a suffocating silence.

Both galleries were packed with press and citizens, and camera flashes burst without a pause.

Kim Seungjoon sat in the defendant's chair. His hair had been neatened, but his cheeks had hollowed, and his eyes were still frozen with fear. He dropped his head and let out a long sigh.

Where did it start going wrong?

The presiding judge turned the pages of the file and spoke, cold.

"Defendant Kim Seungjoon. This court will now render its final judgment on the charges against you."

The prosecutor recited the indictment again, unruffled. Use of Blue Dust. Sexual assault. Unlawful filming. Reckless driving after taking narcotics.

As the charges spilled out one after another, the gallery stirred. Kim Seungjoon kept his eyes fixed on the floor the whole time.

In one corner, Beomjoerang sat in the press seats, rolling a pen, staring without expression. On the surface he looked like nothing more than a reporter lining up a story. His gaze was cold, and sharp.

He knew better than anyone what the outcome of this trial would mean. Countless eyes were on this courtroom. Depending on the judgment that left the judge's mouth, the world would turn over once more.

The prosecutor raised his voice for the last time.

"Your Honor, the defendant used his status as a celebrity to reach drugs with ease, and he produced numerous victims. There are signs of remorse, but the crimes are grave. I request a severe punishment."

Shutters cracked in a run.

Across from him, the lawyer rose slowly. A watch flashed at his wrist. His voice was soft, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and smooth.

"Your Honor, the defendant has already turned himself in. Through this case he has also lost both his social standing and his honor. He has reflected deeply, and he has promised never to repeat the same wrongs. I ask the court to consider that the defendant is still young, and that he needs a chance to return to society and be rehabilitated."

When the words ended, Kim Seungjoon lifted his head.

Tears?

At a glance they looked like tears of remorse. To Beomjoerang's eyes, they were something else. Pupils wavering with no focus in them. A body that would not stop shaking. Not remorse. Terror.

Beomjoerang's gaze went sharp.

The presiding judge was silent for a while, turning pages. The air froze.

At last, the judge opened his mouth.

In that instant the gallery erupted.

"Three years? Are you kidding me?!"

"Sexual assault and drugs, and it's only three years?"

Among the victims' families, some stayed in their seats and wailed.

Flashes burst, and cameras spun without rest. Beomjoerang set his pen down without expression and stood. His eyes shook. His fists locked tight. The grind of his teeth carried.

Rage, injustice, and hatred tangled across his face.

The presiding judge withdrew from the bench as if none of it concerned him. Inside the courtroom, pandemonium held.

A corrections officer took Kim Seungjoon by the arm and led him out.

Three years is a bit long.

The moment Beomjoerang's message came in, the first thing out of me was a sigh.

Filthy little maggots. I'd expected it, but in an atmosphere like this, a lousy three years?

I gave you judge bastards way too much credit.

The shock tore through the news, the articles, and social media in an instant, and the public reaction was savage. Most of it was nothing but distrust. Figures. A judge being a judge. That was the whole of it.

Even so, the entire country was watching with its eyes open. Three years for a bastard who drugged people and sexually assaulted them? Just how much did they pocket to pull something like that?

Eat a little criticism for a minute and it's over. So what are you people going to do about it?

Something like that, probably.

A worthless piece of shit without even an ant's tear of professional conscience. Let it be his own family on the receiving end and he'd be raging with murder in his eyes, ready to tear the offender apart. And the hack-rag bastards watching that would gorge themselves on the views with some headline like The End of the Criminal Who Touched a Judge's Daughter.

What the hell kind of country is this, crawling with people who need killing.

No point looking any further. Time to wreck them right now.

I pulled up the Status Window at once.

Terror Points were already full. All of it thanks to those Yongmun bastards, no better than the greasy dregs off a bowl of pork-bone stew.

I was about to strengthen Yangbap when my eyes caught on a new curse instead.

These judge bastards felt like a waste to just smash outright. Yangbap kills painfully enough, sure. But judges, and the high-and-mighty who play at politics—I wanted to torment them a little more. Thinking of every game they'd run on the people and the victims, killing them over and over still wouldn't be enough.

Right. Let's try once more. Absolutely not because I'm addicted to dopamine.

"Yeah."

The Status Window flashed, and a message rose in front of my eyes.

Huh?

So once this curse lands, whatever they do, they're fucked.

The corner of my mouth curled.

Until Yangbap kills you, I'll make it as painful as I can. Just like you did.

You try being the one who grieves.

I took a bottle of soju from the refrigerator.