The Underworld Boss's Midnight Ultimatum
Yet when I actually received the materials, I understood why Chief Han Seung-woo had said he didn't know much about the case. The files consisted of screenshots of text messages exchanged through an anonymous app and a few recorded phone calls. There were direct conversations with Seok Dong-hoon, as well as third-party chats about his recent activities. Even after Chief Han filtered the files down to only those related to Seok Dong-hoon's criminal case, the volume was substantial enough to take considerable time to review.
The content wasn't exactly rewarding to read. As expected from conversations among people of the night world, half of it was either profanity or criminal slang. Quite a few terms didn't show up in searches, and—oh, for crying out loud, even the ones I recognized were too vulgar to repeat.
After piecing together the scattered information from Chief Han's materials, I roughly understood the situation. Seok Dong-hoon hadn't been directly arrested; instead, a subordinate from a splinter organization he occasionally worked with had been caught, dragging him into the mess. He seemed quite indignant about it.
[Judgment. The defendant is not guilty]
Oh? In the past, a judgment preview wouldn't appear with so little information. It seemed that as the variety of documents I could preview increased, even minimal details were now enough to trigger it.
More importantly, the previewed judgment listed Seok Dong-hoon as not guilty. That meant my plan to legally assist him and bring him to my side had just become significantly easier. The outcome was already decided in his favor without me needing to do anything extraordinary.
Seok Dong-hoon was the type who would kick up a truckload of dust if you shook him even lightly, and the prosecutor handling his case was supposedly formidable. I was genuinely curious why the verdict would still be not guilty.
Well, the broad strokes were already settled. The detailed process leading to acquittal could be figured out from here.
I instructed Chief Han Seung-woo to relay a message to Seok Dong-hoon requesting a meeting so I could learn more about the case.
Huh? When Chief Han returned to the headquarters office, he brought an unexpected reply.
"Seok Dong-hoon says he will only meet you at 2 a.m. this coming Saturday night into Sunday morning. I'm sorry to even pass this along, but he insists that if it's not at that exact time, he won't meet at all—and you must come alone, without anyone accompanying you."
"That late? And where?"
"He says he'll inform you of the location an hour before the meeting. What will you do? As someone who's known him for a long time, I'd advise against going."
Walking into his territory completely defenseless? No wonder he couldn't find a lawyer. Even with lawyers flooding the market and his case commanding a high retainer, finding one willing to risk their life for a consultation would be difficult. A massive retainer only meant something if you were still alive to collect it.
Especially since I already knew Je-gyun planned to use Seok Dong-hoon to harm me. Agreeing to his terms would be like sticking my head straight into the mouth of someone trying to devour me. Would this meeting be for legal consultation, or would I simply be blindfolded and dragged away? There was no way to know in advance.
"Of course I won't meet him under those conditions. Tell him to come here."
"Here? To QS Tower?"
"Yes. Alone. No one accompanying him."
"I can pass the message, but will Seok Dong-hoon actually agree?"
He wouldn't be able to refuse once he heard what trump card I held.
"Tell him I'll guarantee a 100% acquittal. If he's not found not guilty, I won't take a single won in fees."
Chief Han's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
"It's not that I doubt your abilities, but isn't promising an acquittal a bit premature? With only the materials I provided earlier, it must have been difficult to even grasp the details of the case."
Any ordinary lawyer would think so. Industry etiquette even discouraged making such bold promises to clients. But I had no need to be so cautious. After all, I'd already seen the judgment that would be handed down in the future.
"I have my reasons. Just pass it along. No lawyer would promise an acquittal on a case this close to indictment, so Seok Dong-hoon won't be able to stay away."
"Understood."
* * *
As expected, Seok Dong-hoon appeared at QS Tower a few days later. How could he possibly refuse when I was offering a guaranteed acquittal?
For security, I chose the headquarters office where I worked. To avoid other employees' eyes, the time was set for 2 a.m. Chief Han Seung-woo, who already knew Seok Dong-hoon, sat in on the meeting. Security team members, including Deputy Kim Chul-joong, were also on standby in case things went south. If either Chief Han or I called, they would come running straight to the office without answering the phone first. Seok Dong-hoon wouldn't be able to cause any trouble.
With all precautions in place, I waited in the headquarters office. The first impression of the man who walked in completely defied my expectations.
Since he was one of the three great underworld bosses nationwide, I'd pictured someone burly like Gu Ma-jeok or Kim Doo-han. Instead, the Seok Dong-hoon who entered with Chief Han looked so scrawny he probably couldn't even handle a sashimi knife, let alone a box cutter. Someone who charged at least 100 million won per case couldn't possibly be struggling financially, so this must simply be his natural build. I'd heard that the higher one climbed in the night world these days, the less physical work they did, resulting in a frail appearance—but this was beyond what I'd imagined.
My concern about him causing a scene had been unnecessary. With that physique, there was no need to even call the standby security team. After Chief Han told him to sit, I figured I could handle him myself if necessary.
His hairstyle was also striking. It was bleached so thoroughly it was nearly white-blonde. The emperor of the night world wouldn't normally walk around looking so conspicuous, so he had probably worn a wig to avoid exposure while coming to QS Tower.
Thud. Scrape.
Without so much as a greeting, Seok Dong-hoon sat across from me at the conference table, slouching with his chin propped on his hand, and spoke in an insolent tone.
"You said you'd get me acquitted?"
Even when Chief Han, seated beside him, cleared his throat and shot him a warning look, Seok Dong-hoon showed no intention of changing his attitude. Since I hadn't summoned him here to be pushed around, I needed to set the tone.
"If you continue being this rude during our first meeting, I might decide not to take your case after all. Hello?"
"Are you a judge? What gives a lawyer like you the right to hand out acquittals as you please?"
"I asked to meet because I'm confident I can secure an acquittal. If you don't like me, feel free to find another lawyer. Most would refuse a case this close to indictment anyway. If you believe I'm necessary for your acquittal and plan to keep sitting there, then hello?"
Seok Dong-hoon knew better than anyone that he had no other options for legal representation. Following Chief Han's earlier throat-clearing, his arm slowly lowered. Whether that was a signal meant for him, his crossed legs uncrossed, and when he opened his mouth again—after previously spitting out complaints—the tone had shifted to formal speech.
"Yes. Hello. You must have been very curious, but I'm not exactly in a position to exchange pleasantries. That's why I'm here, isn't it? It's not just imminent indictment—the charges have already been filed. A suspended prosecution is impossible, so we'll have to fight it out in court. Are you sure you can handle that? If you're just trying to scam me for retainer fees with empty promises, I won't sit quietly."
Before answering, I glanced around the headquarters office.
"This is my office. Do I really look that desperate for money? An acquittal is possible. If you explain step by step what you've been charged with, that is."
"I'm not someone who's never committed crimes, but the prosecution doesn't even know who actually did the things they're accusing me of. Even if they suspect me, they'll never find evidence."
Oh? Look at that confidence. Was he trying not to lose face even in front of someone promising him an acquittal?
"Then why were you indicted?"
"That's exactly what pisses me off. The prosecutor says I'll be punished because I'm part of a criminal organization."
"Criminal organization formation?"
"Yeah. I think that was the charge that came out of the prosecutor's mouth. I only work with my friends, so I have no idea what kind of organization I'm supposed to have formed."
Article 114 of the Criminal Act—criminal organization formation. Now I understood why the previewed judgment had shown an acquittal. Under this law, merely joining an organization that conspires to commit serious crimes was treated as having committed the crime itself, with all members subject to punishment. Depending on one's perspective, it could be read as punishing people even without actual crimes committed, which was why the provision was constantly accompanied by constitutional controversy.
Because of this, judges in actual criminal trials demanded extremely strict evidence before applying the charge. Simply having several people gather and discuss committing crimes wasn't enough to establish a criminal organization. It had to be objectively proven that multiple members had continuously gathered under a clear chain of command to conspire in crimes.
The fact that judges required such rigorous proof meant the burden on prosecutors was enormous. As Chief Han had mentioned days earlier, if Seok Dong-hoon operated through a cellular structure—assembling different people for each project—then this charge wouldn't hold. That was why the previewed judgment had clearly shown acquittal.
Just as Seok Dong-hoon had confidently claimed, the prosecution couldn't find evidence of actual crimes committed. This prosecutor was walking a difficult path. If evidence was lacking, they shouldn't have indicted at all—yet they were trying to force the issue by slapping on an ill-fitting charge. Why resort to such desperate measures? Was the "formidable" prosecutor simply ignorant of the law? Or overflowing with a sense of justice?
"What's the prosecutor's name?"
At my question, Seok Dong-hoon made a disgusted face, as if even recalling the prosecutor's appearance was repulsive.
"Prosecutor Jin Yong-hwa from the Seoul Southern District Prosecutor's Office. Do you know him?"
Pfft. I nearly burst out laughing in front of my client. So when they said the prosecutor was "formidable," they didn't mean skilled at handling cases—they meant he had such powerful connections that other lawyers were reluctant to go against him.
I didn't personally know Prosecutor Jin Yong-hwa, but his father was quite famous. And the woman who would soon become his wife had an especially deep and hostile connection with me.