I Just Did It Because I Could
We took Moon Cheol-sik to a nearby coffee shop. He must have been turning it over pretty hard on the way, because the moment he sat down with his coffee in hand, he carefully opened his mouth.
"...So, uh, you guys are detectives... right? Taking a photo and leaking it... that's not really something you'd come arrest someone over, is it?"
Even after we'd driven a spike straight through his blind spot, Moon Cheol-sik's will to survive was still twitching. He'd figured it out, of course — whether what he'd done actually constituted a crime, and if it did, what kind of punishment he might be looking at. So he was testing the waters with a little protest.
Most people are like that. You can hit them hard — hit them somewhere they never saw coming — and they still won't spill everything in a rush of actually it was like this, I never meant to, let me tell you the truth.
It meant we'd put him on the canvas at the opening bell of round one. It didn't mean we had a knockout. Even so, what that first question had given me was imbalance.
Information advantage.
I'd made it clear that we knew far more than he expected — by knowing things he had no way of knowing we'd know.
I took a sip of coffee, then answered.
"We're not detectives."
"What? Then...?"
Moon Cheol-sik glanced sideways at Detective Park Daesu, who had him boxed in from the adjacent seat, and looked at me with a question in his eyes. I didn't answer that. I asked another question instead.
"You took the money, didn't you?"
"......"
"The amount wouldn't have been large. The money wasn't the point."
A question is an attack. Especially when neither side can see the other's cards and you need to get what you want. You have to cut sharper, and you have to cut where it hurts.
Moon Cheol-sik couldn't hide how unfair he found the question. But—
"I'm not sure what you mean... I really don't..."
"You don't know? That's fine. Not knowing isn't a crime. You can hide it, too. Kids and adults alike can't let go of what's in their hands. It's a natural phenomenon."
"Look... Detective... no, sir, I don't even know who you are or where you came from..."
I cut him off and continued in a calm voice.
"You don't seem to understand, so let me walk you through what's about to happen. Defamation. Violation of the Personal Information Protection Act via invasion of privacy. A damages suit for emotional distress over a malicious rumor. We'll file them separately. Criminal case on one track. Civil on another. A verdict will come down eventually, right? Then we'll appeal. Regardless of the outcome."
"Not the best timing, I know, but why file them separately? And why doesn't the outcome matter?"
Ghost, who had been glaring daggers at Moon Cheol-sik with everything he had — despite being completely invisible — slipped in another question. The reason was simple. I answered in a way that served as a reply to Ghost and a message to the thoroughly tense Moon Cheol-sik at the same time.
"Because that way, it's a lot harder on you. The moment you think you've wrapped up one investigation, another one starts. And just when you think it's finally, actually over — that's when the damages suit lands. Most people can't take it. Even if you find a new job, word will get around. Summonses will start showing up. You'll be in and out of interviews during work hours. You'll lose your mind. And as for me?"
"......"
I wet my fingertip on the condensation beading along the iced americano, then started drawing a long line across the table.
Gulp.
Moon Cheol-sik's Adam's apple bobbed hard. His mouth must have gone dry; he brought the coffee to his lips with a faintly trembling hand. He was starting to understand the situation.
"No... I mean, I just... took a photo and... sent in a tip, that's all, you don't have to go that far..."
"Still don't get it? Fine. You can go."
I signaled Detective Park Daesu with a tilt of my head. He scraped his chair back and opened a path. We really were in sync, he and I.
Moon Cheol-sik just sat there reading the room, even after being told to leave. Detective Park Daesu gave him another light smack on the back of the head.
"I was gonna tell you to go, even as a joke, but you're a little too slow for that, so hyung'll give you the answer. Don't go. You walk out that door, you're actually fucked. The guy sitting in front of you is a genuinely scary person. He follows through on every single thing he says."
That was true enough. It's why I started as a manager in the first place. But it isn't a bad thing. It's actually kind of fun. How to put it... like a new kind of stimulus had just kicked in?
Moon Cheol-sik, who could neither stand up nor sit down properly, fidgeted and opened his mouth.
"Um... did I really get dumped? He won't answer any of my calls... the person who put me up to this..."
"Yes. You were discarded. From the very beginning."
"From the beginning...?"
"Scandal or not, they protect their sources, right? Of course they do. But this time? They didn't. The intent was probably to boost credibility... but what matters to you, Mr. Moon Cheol-sik, is the result, isn't it? Look. It's right there in the article — 'the photo was provided by someone in actress Ha Eun-yul's innermost circle,' and so on."
I answered dryly. Then I finished him off with the next line.
"The question isn't whether you got dumped because he stopped answering. The moment the scandal broke and word spread from every direction that you were the leak — that's when you should have known. You'd already been thrown away."
"...Ah."
After extracting every piece of information Moon Cheol-sik had — along with evidence like the deposit records — I called in a reporter. And after hearing Moon Cheol-sik's full statement, the reporter frowned.
"They really don't know when to stop, do they."
"I feel... terrible about what I did to Eun-yul. I really... he said he'd take care of me all the way to the end, so I believed him and just did what I was told..."
Moon Cheol-sik poured out how unfair it all was in response to Ji Seung-min's words, but Ji Seung-min was looking at me.
"You call a political desk reporter at eleven at night. For this? I came running with my laptop, all fired up, and this is the 'information' you give me? Huh? Don't you think that's a bit much, Chief?"
It was a bit much, yeah. His face had been lit up when he walked into the coffee shop. I probably should have explained when I told him not to go anywhere, that I had a story for him.
But then... he wouldn't have come, would he?
I looked at Reporter Ji with a shameless face, and he gave a small shake of his head.
"Ah, shit... Do I seriously... have to write this?"
"How about a tip?"
"A tip? What tip?"
Even as he said it, his eyes mixed suspicion with expectation, like he was wondering if there was something else. I answered quickly.
"Give it to that entertainment desk junior you asked about this afternoon."
"Huh?"
"You said your junior got burned, didn't you? I think he'd be pretty happy to get this. You dump an article you don't want to write, pick up some goodwill, and you even get to clear your throat like, ahem. Not such a losing trade, is it?"
The distrust that had sat thick in Ji Seung-min's eyes softened considerably. The way his gaze drifted up and to the side, he was even doing a little imagining now. Given Reporter Ji's personality — a political desk man whose pride scraped the ceiling — I had a pretty good idea what he was picturing.
"Right. That's how it is — sweep the yard, pick up a coin. When you play in the upper waters, stuff like this just brushes by like a hundred-won piece."
Having chewed the daydream over out loud, Ji Seung-min now seemed slightly worried about the informant, and jerked his chin toward Moon Cheol-sik.
"What about this guy? Can we just throw him away? The way you steered this, Chief, this kid's getting buried in the industry."
I looked for a moment at Moon Cheol-sik, whose eyes were full of something like hope at Ji Seung-min's words.
"Getting buried in the industry is a given."
"Ah... Chief? Hyung??"
"We won't file the lawsuit, so go find other work."
Moon Cheol-sik lowered his head. People really are this cheap. The moment he thought he was being spared, who knows how far he'd already started hoping.
"Tomorrow, 2 p.m. sharp. Remember that. You report to the police station Detective Park told you about."
"Haa..."
"You still have to be questioned. If you don't like it, we can start with the lawsuits, in order."
Detective Park Daesu put on that bleak smile he sometimes showed — the one he mostly reserved for dealing with bad guys — and slung an arm around Moon Cheol-sik's shoulders.
"Don't get any funny ideas. You're coming to a jjimjilbang with hyung tonight. If you're going to stand in front of a camera tomorrow, you ought to look like a human being."
Whoosh—thud.
Whoosh—thud.
Lying on the bed, I tossed a worn baseball into the air and caught it, over and over, out of habit.
Whooosh—
"Hey, Jae-wook."
Thwack!
"Ah... you startled me... You're not asleep?"
I felt a dizzying jolt looking at the baseball that had bounced off the pillow and rolled away. What if the ball I'd thrown had hit me and broken my nose?
I turned my gaze from the baseball to Ghost, who was wearing a faint smile. The soft orange lighting I'd left on made the whole thing feel a little strange. A man looking down at me while I was lying in bed. It wasn't frightening so much as mortifying. I quickly sat up and perched on the edge of the mattress.
"I wasn't trying to startle you. I'm sorry."
"I know. I know, but could you at least make some kind of sound when you move around?"
"I don't have footsteps... How about I do it with my mouth? Dadadada... like that?"
"......"
If I hadn't spent over a month getting a read on this ghost, I would have taken that as a jab — as him trying to get a rise out of me.
"Then... should I say, 'coming in'?"
"Forget it. Why did you come in? If you've got something to say, say it."
Ghost carefully sat down at the edge of the bed.
"I wanted to say thank you."
"For what? Keeping the promise? I told you that was a trade, so you don't need to worry about it. I got a bit of a refresh out of it myself, and it's been interesting figuring things out."
"I'm grateful for that too, honestly, but I didn't think you'd throw yourself into it like it was your own problem... I really didn't think, from day one, that you'd stay up late trying to kill Eun-yul's scandal."
I tilted my head without meaning to.
"I didn't work that hard, though?"
"...Huh? You didn't work hard?"
"No. It's not like I did anything that deserves to be called hard work. I just drove, did what I was told. The scandal too... I just made a few calls. Spent a bit of time in the evening. That's all."
Ghost looked slightly dumbfounded. But that was the fact of it, so what could I do?
I drove the car. Waited, then picked people up and moved them. Where's the hard work in that? Worked hard at driving? Worked hard at waiting? You don't call that working hard.
"But overturning Eun-yul's scandal..."
"Ah..."
I hadn't even thought in terms of doing more or doing less. And I certainly hadn't thought I'd accomplished anything enormously difficult. I'd just followed the routines my body had learned as an aide. At the end of that, there happened to be a modest result. That was all.
"Even so, staying up so late... you must be tired..."
"I'm not tired. If anything, I feel like I barely worked today, which is why I can't sleep. Feeling a little less uneasy now?"
It wasn't something I said to soothe Ghost. It was just the truth. Being a National Assembly member's aide doesn't mean you pull all-nighters and work three hundred and sixty-five days without commuting, but I was a pretty hard worker. And the time right now? Good grief... I was starting to wonder if I'd wrapped the day up too early. Which is why I'd been tossing a ball, counting sheep.
"...I really did meet a benefactor, didn't I."
"Stop with the old-man talk and go to sleep. If you can't sleep, I'll put the TV on for you. Watch a drama or something."
"Um... I have a question."
There it is. This was it. He'd come at this hour because there was something he actually wanted to know. And I had a rough idea what it was. I recited what Ghost was about to say, keeping my tone light.
"Why did I wrap it all up? On my own terms?"
"Uh... well, yes."
Ghost looked at me with a rather firm expression, waiting for an answer.