Chapter 114
A brief silence hung in the air.
"Hey, Lawyer Cha." And as expected, he made no effort to hide his displeasure.
"I have no idea why you're saying that out of the blue. Isn't that a bit much?"
"Reporter Choi."
"Jeongu dies? Why? Is he in some accident? If so, how the hell would you know that, Lawyer Cha?"
He fired off questions without pause.
"And I'm supposed to take the fall for it? Who the hell would orchestrate something like that for a rookie reporter fresh out of training? Come on, man, at least make sense."
I didn't have a chance to get a word in edgewise. Choi Jonghyeon laughed in disbelief now and then, tossing in the occasional curse.
"The more I think about it, the more ridiculous it gets. Are you a fortune-teller or something? How do you know this shit? You messing with me right now?"
"Do I have any reason to mess with you, Reporter Choi?"
"No. Exactly, that's why I'm so fucking baffled. I'm out here on assignment in the sticks, and you hit me with this doom-and-gloom crap right off the bat."
He hadn't put the call on speakerphone, but his voice was so loud that Kang Minjae and Manager Oh inside the office could hear every word. They froze mid-task, staring at me in shock.
I let out a sigh and stepped out onto the balcony with my phone.
"Reporter Kim Jeongu is under pressure from above right now."
"Pressure? What pressure? If the higher-ups are leaning on him, I'd know about it before you do. What the hell are you talking about?"
"You'd know best, Reporter Choi. It's pressure because of you."
"…."
Choi Jonghyeon fell silent after hearing that. Waiting for him to speak felt like it would only bring back anger, so I pressed on without stopping.
"They're constantly trying to shut it down from the top, but you're still digging into Wooshin, aren't you? And Representative Lee Jeongchan from the Minwoo Party is hounding it relentlessly too."
"…How do you know all that, Lawyer Cha?"
"You asked why Kim Jeongu is under pressure. I told you straight up, but it didn't sink in. Hell, you even said you'd write a book and blow it all open if they kept stonewalling you."
I hoped he'd buy it based on what I knew. Rubbing my forehead, I thought back: the incident had gone down while he was off reporting in Mokpo. I couldn't say if Kim Jeongu would die today or tomorrow.
If Choi Jonghyeon wouldn't help, I'd handle it solo—but I didn't even know where it happened.
"They pressure Jeongu, it doesn't work, so the company runs him over with a car? Not me—him?"
"Kim Jeongu commits suicide."
"…What?"
"And it'll come out as workplace harassment by you, so Iljungilbo will pin the blame on you and fire you."
"Ha… for real."
Compared to the outright cursing when I'd first brought it up, his reaction had mellowed a bit.
"Kim Jeongu knows his whole career is riding on your Wooshin probe and Lee Jeongchan's digging. That's why, no matter the pressure from above, he kept it bottled up and suffered in silence."
"…."
"And Kim Jeongu has depression too. You probably had no clue."
"…Jeongu? Depression? That kid's always so upbeat."
"Does looking bright on the outside mean he is inside? We can get into the details when we meet. No time now."
I checked my watch: 11:30. Assuming four hours to Seoul, we'd meet by 4:00 at the latest.
"I don't know when, where, or how Kim Jeongu will take his own life. So on your way back, have someone reliable check on him."
"How can I buy into this nonsense on your word alone—"
"Didn't you call him a precious junior? Even if I'm full of shit, as long as there's a chance, isn't trying to stop it just basic human decency?"
"…."
"That's the Choi Jonghyeon I know. You'll regret passing on this."
He let out a long sigh, clearly torn. Even as I pushed this urgently, I knew deep down that in this life, it might not happen at all. Like a butterfly's wingbeat sparking a typhoon, all the changes I'd made could save Kim Jeongu.
But anything short of 100% certainty meant preparing anyway.
"Where do I go? I'll bite and head there, but I still can't buy it."
"My words or me—you don't trust which?"
"Both."
His tone dripped with wariness. I couldn't help a smirk.
I wasn't the only one who'd devoted my life to taking down Wooshin. Choi Jonghyeon might've chosen that dangerous path even before me. People like that? Paranoid by default.
"Then let's meet at Angel's House."
"…What'd you just say?"
"Angel's House. The orphanage. 4:30. Even padding the time, you'll make it before then."
"Hey, Lawyer Cha. What the hell are you?"
"Find out when we meet. I'll be waiting."
I hung up and headed back inside. Manager Oh and Kang Minjae had apparently pieced together their own theories from the call—they'd been whispering until I appeared, then scattered quick.
I jotted down Choi Jonghyeon's number and handed the phone back to Manager Oh.
"Lawyer, what's going on with Reporter Choi?"
Manager Oh looked worried. Kang Minjae too.
"It's not that something's happened to him—it's that something might, so I gave him a heads-up."
"…That Kim Jeongu reporter is gonna die?"
"Yes."
"How do you know that—and why warn him?"
This time Kang Minjae jumped in. I hesitated on the answer.
But both stared at my lips, waiting, clearly nursing the same question.
"Got some intel."
"Got it."
"You hate sticking your nose in other people's business."
Manager Oh bought it easy, but Kang Minjae dug in further.
Honestly, at this point, it was getting hard to claim I hated meddling. More accurate to say I was nosy about anyone with even a loose tie to me. When you knew misfortune was barreling down, it felt obvious.
"Like the guy personally. Worried this case'll make him quit reporting."
That'd have to do for an evasion. It wasn't a client matter anyway—no need to loop in Kang fully.
* * *
I left the office in their hands and headed to Angel's House.
The Incheon orphanage had popped up in the news right when I'd first landed in 2008. I'd visited plenty in my past life, so I knew the route cold.
Parked in the outdoor lot, climbed the stone steps, and soon heard kids laughing and playing in the distance.
I'd picked Angel's House as the spot not for a strict orphanage visit, but showing up empty-handed felt off, so I'd grabbed a few boxes of school supplies.
The kids on the playground spotted the stranger—me—and shot curious glances, probably assuming from the boxes that I was there to donate.
"Kids, where's Counselor Song Heryeong?"
"Over there!"
They all pointed to the vine-covered bench. Below it, Song Heryeong had been watching the kids play; she stood as she noticed me.
"Hello. What brings you here?"
I'd arrived about forty minutes early for Choi Jonghyeon, so plenty of time. I set the school supply boxes down beside her.
"Hi. Nothing major—just ended up with extra new supplies. Thought the kids could use 'em."
"Oh, thank you so much. But you look new… Are you a regular volunteer here?"
"Nah. Just pass by sometimes, saw the place, and it popped into my head."
"We appreciate you thinking of us. Come in for some tea? The director's out, but leave a card and I'll pass it on."
"No need. Just tell the director a neighbor dropped off some donations."
Song Heryeong hoisted a box; I grabbed the last one and followed her.
She led me to an empty office. As she suggested unpacking, I snipped the twine with desk scissors and spoke up.
"Counselor."
"Yes?"
She was busy pulling out notebooks and pencils, stacking them on the desk.
"Do you know Choi Jonghyeon from Iljungilbo?"
His name hit like a freeze; she paused, then looked at me.
"…Pardon, but where'd you say you're from?"
"Didn't say."
"Ah… right. Um, he drops by the orphanage sometimes. Brings ramen or snacks."
Flustered, she dropped the stack of notebooks. I picked them up for her.
"Mind if I ask when he started coming?"
"End of last year."
Longer than I'd figured since he'd learned Angel's House tied to Wooshin Group. I nodded, folded the empty box, and leaned it against the wall.
"Thanks for the info."
"No tea before you go?"
I shook my head.
"Fine. When's the director back today?"
"She's off today."
I'd known Fridays and Saturdays were her days off, but good to confirm. In this place, almost no one was trustworthy—especially the director.
"Meeting Reporter Choi out front. Figured I'd watch the kids play and chat a bit. That okay?"
"Of course. Director's not here… and the kids love him anyway."
She let "director's not here" slip, then clamped her mouth like she'd surprised herself.
Song Heryeong. Pyeongguk Women's University Social Welfare '02 grad. Worked at a global NGO post-grad, joined Angel's House two years back. The one internal who'd actually helped when I'd dug into the place.
"Really grateful for the supplies. Kids'll love 'em—we were running low."
As I left the building for the playground, Song Heryeong called after me. I gave a quick nod.
Right then, my pocket buzzed—a phone vibration.
I sat on the vine-shaded bench by the playground. Choi Jonghyeon was calling.