The Weight of a Sin
[Park Jin-cheol, Nominee for Commissioner General. Prayer for promotion. 500 million won.]
Park Jin-cheol.
The man most likely to become the next Commissioner General, the man set to climb to the very pinnacle of his organization.
He, who was called the icon of integrity and held deep trust within the police force, had offered 500 million won to a shaman?
And that money had flowed into a mysterious organization called The Root?
Crunch.
Lee Jintae’s hand tightened around the ledger without him even realizing it. His face had long since turned deathly pale.
‘This is not a scale I can handle.’
To find The Root and the Black Official mentioned in the ledger, he would have to track the flow of funds. But the person who gave that money was the superior of his own superior.
The moment he initiated an investigation, a report would go up, and it was obvious his head would be on the chopping block before he could even apply for a warrant.
Even if he handed it over to the prosecution, it wouldn't be any different.
The name of a former Chief Prosecutor was also written on the front pages of the ledger.
The police, the prosecution.
With the people at the very top of South Korea’s investigative agencies all in on it, who could he trust to conduct an investigation?
It was a sanctuary that could never be touched by a normal investigation.
He finally understood why Kang Jinwoo had said he couldn't pull his feet out of this.
This wasn't some Pandora’s box.
It was a nuclear bomb.
A nuclear bomb that would blow away the organization he belonged to—no, the entire Republic of Korea.
As Lee Jintae covered his face with trembling hands and let out a deep groan, Kang Jinwoo, who had been savoring his coffee across from him, asked nonchalantly.
“Mister, does it feel too heavy?”
Lee Jintae looked up at the voice, which was devoid of any tension.
“...Why on earth did you show me this?”
He wanted to know the intention behind handing over the corruption of a Commissioner General nominee—evidence even tied to sorcery—to a mere team leader like himself.
But Kang Jinwoo just shrugged his shoulders.
“Because you don’t doubt the contents of the ledger at all, do you?”
“...!”
In an instant, Lee Jintae’s heart sank.
A detective’s profession lives on doubt.
It is the duty of an investigator to verify the truth dozens of times, even if the evidence is right in front of their eyes.
Yet, the moment he saw this absurd ledger, he had concluded that the contents were true.
He had believed the record of a shaman killing people with sorcery without a second of hesitation.
‘Am I crazy?’
No. He wasn't.
Because he had already seen it.
The miracle Kang Jinwoo had shown at the abandoned motel.
Having witnessed that overwhelming phenomenon, Lee Jintae’s subconscious had already decided that anything handed to him by Kang Jinwoo had to be the truth.
Lee Jintae slowly closed the ledger. Then, squeezing out his reason as a detective, he asked.
“Is this... real?”
Kang Jinwoo did not answer. He just smirked and shrugged.
It was neither a confirmation nor a denial, but to Lee Jintae, that silence sounded like a definitive answer.
“Hoo...”
In the end, Lee Jintae took the ledger and looked with sharp eyes at Kang Jinwoo, and then at Kim Hyungseok, who was nervously watching the situation.
“I will look into this. In return, do not tell anyone else. Does anyone else know about this ledger?”
“M-my wife knows about it, but...”
As Kim Hyungseok answered in a shrinking voice, Lee Jintae’s brow furrowed.
“Keep your mouth shut. If things go wrong, it won’t just be you, Mr. Kim, but your family who will be in danger. Do you understand?”
“I-I will keep that in mind!”
Kim Hyungseok nodded, his face turning deathly pale.
‘Why did I take this...’
With the ledger matter settled for now, perhaps due to the sudden release of tension, an intense thirst washed over Lee Jintae.
“My throat is quite parched. I’ll enjoy this.”
Lee Jintae downed the cold Americano on the table in one gulp. It was bland from the melted ice, but it was enough to soothe his burning insides.
He set the empty cup down and gave a bitter smile.
“Actually, I had expectations.”
“About what?”
“When you called me. I was hoping you might have found information about the culprit behind that skeleton case from back then.”
Kang Jinwoo tilted his head.
“Didn’t you catch the culprit for that?”
“We identified the culprit. A nasty thug named Park Jongsu who operates in Incheon.”
Lee Jintae loosened his tie in frustration.
“But we can’t catch him.”
“Why? If you know who it is, can’t you just go and lock him up?”
“There is no evidence.”
He let out a self-deprecating sigh and continued.
“It happened so long ago that all physical evidence is gone, and there are no witnesses. The only witness is a ghost, and there’s no way a court would accept ghost testimony.”
“Hmm.”
“We have the circumstantial evidence, but without physical evidence, we can’t get a warrant. We’re in a situation where he’s walking around right in front of our eyes, but we’re just twiddling our thumbs. That’s how the procedure works.”
Kang Jinwoo, who had been resting his chin on his hand, seemed lost in thought for a moment before saying it as if it were nothing.
“Then why don’t you just create the evidence?”
“Excuse me?”
“You said you’re sure he’s the culprit, right? Then just make something similar to the weapon he used or something, and plant it.”
Kang Jinwoo spat out such a dangerous suggestion so casually.
Lee Jintae waved his hands in refusal.
“Don’t talk nonsense. That’s illegal.”
“But you’re catching a bad guy, aren’t you?”
“No matter how heinous the criminal, we cannot catch them with fabricated evidence. If that gets found out, the criminal goes free and the police organization is destroyed. And that guy isn’t an idiot; if he senses something suspicious, he’ll go into hiding immediately. Then we’ll never catch him.”
At the detective’s adherence to principle, Kang Jinwoo smacked his lips and tilted his head.
“That’s picky. Then can’t you just get a confession?”
“A confession? What kind of crazy person would confess with their own mouth, ‘I killed someone’? That Park Jongsu guy has been through everything. He’s the type to deny everything even if you shove evidence in his face; there’s no way coaxing him with words would work.”
It was just as Lee Jintae was shaking his head and about to chew on the remaining ice.
“Mister, I think I can help you with that.”
“Help me? How?”
“If he confesses, that solves it, right?”
Lee Jintae felt a sudden sense of unease.
He couldn't predict what kind of help Kang Jinwoo was talking about.
“I’m warning you, no illegal activities. If you do anything like torture, threats, or assault, I’ll arrest you, even if it’s you, Kang Jinwoo.”
“Ayy, Mister. What do you take me for? Do I look like that kind of person?”
Kang Jinwoo, leaning comfortably against the back of his chair, closed his eyes.
“It won’t be anything illegal, will it?”
He said that and quietly called out a name.
“Driver Choi.”
Lee Jintae looked around. Driver Choi? Who was he calling?
Inside the cafe, there was only the part-timer far away from them.
At that moment, Kang Jinwoo opened his eyes again and grinned.
“Mister, you just said as long as it’s not illegal, right?”
“What on earth are you planning to do?”
“Something like this.”
It was at that moment.
Thud.
“Ugh!”
As his shoulder suddenly sank, Lee Jintae let out a groan.
It wasn't just simple muscle tension or fatigue.
“Urgh!”
Under a pressure as if a wet sack of rice had been placed on his shoulder, he groaned and reflexively grabbed his shoulder.
But all he could feel was the fabric of his own clothes.
Yet the weight continued to increase, pressing down on him until his spine tingled.
‘W-what. What is this!’
He couldn't see it, but something was definitely riding on him.
Could it be that Kang Jinwoo had done something?
“What is going on here!”
“Driver Choi, stop. You’ll kill the man.”
As Kang Jinwoo waved his hand, the pressure disappeared as if it were a lie.
“Haa, haa...”
Watching Lee Jintae panting while sweating cold sweat, Kang Jinwoo leisurely lifted his coffee cup.
“Mister, how was it? It wasn’t illegal, right?”
At that brazen attitude, Lee Jintae found himself fiddling with the pistol at his waist.
‘Wouldn’t it be okay to shoot just once?’
But unfortunately, there wasn't enough justification for self-defense to fire his pistol.
A secluded back alley in Incheon.
“Damn it, where are you looking when you walk?”
Park Jongsu glared at the office worker in a suit who had bumped into his shoulder. The office worker, exhausted from overtime, hurriedly bowed his head and apologized, but Park Jongsu, seemingly unsatisfied, clicked his tongue and scanned the man from head to toe.
“Is saying sorry enough? Why don’t you pay for my dry cleaning?”
“I-I’m sorry. I was in a rush... Here!”
As the office worker disappeared into the crowd like he was running away, Park Jongsu chuckled and moved on. In his pocket was a pack of cigarettes he had just swiped.
Incheon was Park Jongsu’s turf.
Even though he had lost the influence he once had, he still acted like a thug.
Before he knew it, the sun had set, and darkness began to cover the alleyway.
A secluded alley where streetlights flickered.
Park Jongsu was leaning against a utility pole smoking a cigarette when he spotted a woman entering the mouth of the alley.
Click, click.
‘She’s alone?’
As the sound of high heels echoed, Park Jongsu’s eyes narrowed. His gaze followed the woman’s back.
And at that moment, a memory from seven years ago flashed through his mind.
‘I want to do it again.’
That girl back then was the same.
She had begged for her life, terrified.
The thrilling sensation he felt at the tips of his fingers as her breath cut off in the final moment.
He couldn't forget it.
“Hoo...”
Overcome by impulse, Park Jongsu exhaled a hot breath.
However.
The CCTV hanging at the top of the utility pole suppressed his impulse.
“Tch.”
Park Jongsu looked up at the utility pole and spat out a curse.
The world had gotten too good, even for his liking.
With CCTV cameras stuck in every alley and on every building, he couldn't breathe.
If it were the old days, he would have snatched her and dragged her to some basement by now.
“What a shame, what a shame.”
He turned away, mentally butchering the woman who had just passed by dozens of times over.
A short while later, Park Jongsu arrived at a monthly rental room in an old motel.
“Ugh, my aching bones.”
He threw off his outer clothes and sprawled out on the bed. The mattress, with its broken springs, let out a screech.
“Anything fun on?”
He turned on the TV, but only boring news flowed across the screen. He thought about having a drink and going to sleep, but everything was a bother.
Besides, there was a detective tailing him outside.
‘Did they find evidence?’
He had wondered if the crimes he committed in the past had been discovered, but.
“No way.”
Park Jongsu scoffed and turned his gaze back to the TV. He had buried the body inside the wall, and the building he buried it in had become a ruin, so there was no way there could be evidence.
But at that moment.
Thud.
“What?”
Hearing something fall from the ceiling, Park Jongsu looked up. It was an old motel, so he thought maybe a rat was scurrying around.
Thud.
This time, it was at the head of the bed.
“...What is it?”
At the dull, wet sound, as if someone had stepped on the floor with bare feet, Park Jongsu sat up on the bed.
He scanned the room, but in the narrow space, he was alone.
The front door was locked, and the window was closed.
‘Did I hear it wrong?’
He lay back down, feeling uneasy. He wasn't in the mood to watch TV, so he pulled the blanket up over his head.
That was when it happened.
Swoosh!
A cold chill brushed over the blanket.
It wasn't just a simple cold breeze.
It was a chill that made his spine crawl.
And.
Press!
The blanket was pushed down.
Something heavy settled onto his chest.
“Gah!”
Park Jongsu stopped breathing.
Was it sleep paralysis?
No, he was clearly awake.
He could move his fingers, and his eyes were darting around.
Yet the weight on his chest became increasingly vivid.
“W-who is it!”
Park Jongsu screamed and threw the blanket off. But he was alone in the room, and only the blue light flowing from the TV illuminated the space.
“Haa, haa...”
Cold sweat poured down.
“Damn it, what is this?”
Just as he reached for the nightstand, thinking he needed a cigarette.
Creeeak—!
As the bed springs sank, Park Jongsu’s hand, searching for a cigarette, froze in mid-air.
He couldn't turn his head.
No, he didn't want to turn it.
At the edge of his vision.
The mattress next to him, which should have been empty, was pressed down deeply—very deeply.