Episode 156: CCTV Copy
As the words "CCTV copy" were uttered and the USB appeared, a murmur rippled through the courtroom.
This was the scenario I'd envisioned before stepping into this court. Now, everything the prosecution had done—bringing in new witnesses, adopting their testimony, cross-examining mine—took on new meaning. Some jurors might have sympathized with Yang Hansuk's words, or even believed that Go Yunseong, truly the victim, was suffering under the stigma of being a chaebol brat. Until this evidence surfaced, both his narrative and ours had seemed plausible. Without critical proof, that was inevitable.
But with this evidence out, every word from the prosecution lost all credibility. All those seemingly reasonable claims transformed into lies the prosecutor had racked his brain to invent, just to cover for Go Yunseong. Even if the CCTV wasn't adopted as evidence.
"Prosecutor, do you have anything more to question?"
The judge gazed steadily at Yang Hansuk.
A judge's question like that—asking if there's more—couldn't be brushed off lightly. It was as good as saying, "If you're not done, keep going." But Yang Hansuk, plunged into full panic, seemed to have forgotten his lines. He frantically rolled his eyes toward Hwang Youngchan in the gallery.
"Prosecutor."
"……No, Your Honor."
"Your Honor."
It was time to end this fight.
"Your Honor. We submit the CCTV copy held by witness Chu Je-wook as additional evidence. It's utterly decisive, and no more perfect proof exists to determine the defendant's guilt or innocence."
Even for the judge, this circus of a citizen-participation trial must have been a first. The three judges' faces were already etched with fatigue. From what I'd researched before the trial, citizen-participation trials rarely featured mid-proceedings floods of new evidence and witnesses like this. That meant they bore a heavy burden. With the system barely a year old and data scarce, their decision would set precedent, shaping future trials. Caution was essential.
"Prosecution, do you consent?"
"We cannot. It's not pre-submitted evidence, and we can't confirm if it was legally obtained. We can't verify tampering either. CCTV footage contains personal information. The defense seems unaware the witness had it, and so was the prosecution. Naturally, they wouldn't have gotten consent from the defendant or victim to view or copy it. It's a clear violation of the Personal Information Protection Act."
Yang Hansuk thrashed to the end. Admitting the CCTV's validity would render all his struggles in this trial pointless. And perhaps trauma from two years ago played a role—that sudden video evidence got accepted, humiliating him and causing endless agony since.
"Tampering can be checked by playing the CCTV right here. And even if illegally obtained, per Supreme Court precedent 2008Do3990, evidence with public value has been adopted. In 2008Do1584, stolen ledgers illegally obtained were used to prove fraud—because of public interest. This CCTV is the same. No reason to reject it."
I'd memorized the precedents to avoid suspicion of scripting if reading from notes. Getting caught knowing about the CCTV beforehand could block adoption for obstructing smooth proceedings. I could recite those two Supreme Court rulings in my sleep. If needed, I had more.
In civil cases, no chance—but criminal? Possible.
"The bench needs to deliberate. Fifteen-minute recess."
After recess, they opted to play the video. The beam projector, still showing Yang Hansuk's PPT, filled with CCTV footage. It started with Go Yunseong and his entourage dragging Oh Sanghyeon into the alley. The sequence matched exactly what we'd outlined in court from Oh Sanghyeon's account—completely reversing the prosecution's version.
Even the stone-faced jurors grimaced when the screen captured Oh Sanghyeon, beaten to a bloody pulp and unconscious.
"Is that the end?"
As the video finished, the judge asked. It showed Oh Sanghyeon assaulted, but one unexplained point remained: Go Yunseong, unscathed beyond a nosebleed, somehow emerged gravely injured, carried by his men.
"There's more."
I played the next clip seamlessly.
"……."
Go Yunseong, staring at the fully unconscious Oh Sanghyeon, made a call. Right after, he kicked off his shoes; his man removed Oh Sanghyeon's. They swapped. The entourage hoisted Oh Sanghyeon, covering him with clothing. Go Yunseong slipped out the alley's rear, through stacked materials—possible only because he was slimmer than Oh Sanghyeon, as we'd noted in that cramped space.
The footage cut to another camera: the man carrying "Go Yunseong"—really Oh Sanghyeon in disguise—exiting the site, tracing the path.
The video, resolving all doubts, froze there, job done.
"……."
A heavy silence fell. Even the judges seemed speechless. The first to recover was Judge Woo Bae-seok's Park Sang, signaling the presiding judge to proceed.
"The bench finds: Witness Chu Je-wook, site manager, had CCTV access rights; matches prosecution's submitted format; same quality and details as adopted evidence; valid reason and time to copy. Thus, no tampering. Per 2008Do3990 and 2008Do1584, no bar to adoption. But if prosecution submits an opinion, unprecedented in citizen trials, we'll set a new date."
Yang Hansuk hesitated at her words. Prosecutors uphold justice. With victim and perpetrator clear, insisting this evidence lacks effect to push his flawed indictment screamed warped professionalism. In this public citizen trial, eyes watched. Hwang Youngchan and Go Yunseong's lawyer, glaring earlier, had long fled. Only reporters clutched notebooks, holding breath for his response.
Well, accepting a new date to flail on—tiny chance some shameless claim of tampering? But that would doom his goal in taking this case. Wooshin wouldn't back an image-tarnished prosecutor anyway. Lose now or fight on, one end awaited.
"……We consent to adoption."
The jurors unanimously acquitted. As expected, but deliberation under twenty minutes? Shocking. In my past life, my citizen trials took at least an hour—sometimes over three.
"Judgment. The defendant is found not guilty."
At the presiding judge's words, Oh Sanghyeon burst into held-back tears. Even his stoic facade hid the ordeal—against Wooshin's youngest son, with prosecution fully on Go Yunseong's side.
Post-trial, Yang Hansuk bolted. I'd pondered consoling him, but his swift exit spared me.
Oh Sanghyeon's wife, who'd left their child with grandparents to attend, embraced him, sobbing long. They bowed deeply to Kang Minjae and me, nearly prostrating—we spent ages dissuading them.
Soon, only Kang Minjae and I remained in the empty courtroom.
"Lawyer, you worked hard."
"Hard? It was rigged go-stop from the start."
I handed him files and stood.
"Even rigged go-stop, trials are unpredictable. Even with precedents, rejection was possible."
"True."
"You're amazing. And picking citizen participation? Brilliant."
Now obscure due to poor PR, by my 2018, it was common.
"Is that so? Hungry. Cafeteria grub?"
"Still open? Time's……."
Kang Minjae trailed off, checking his watch.
"Six yet. Dinner possible."
"After this, treat you and the manager to something nice?"
"Court entrance crawling with reporters. Gotta fuel up to answer them."
I'd tipped Oh Sanghyeon a quiet exit to dodge press. With us still inside, they'd be fired up waiting. Wonder how Yang Hansuk slipped them.
"Tangling with reporters? Exhausting."
"Gotta."
True goal: humiliate Go Yunseong. Couldn't stay silent before reporters soft-pedaled for pay. Had to speak precisely on camera.
"Remember? Yesterday's expression practice—we set faces for press."
"Oh, right."
"Kang during trial tensed up, only 'Objection' escaped. Camera-confident?"
"Not just 'Objection'! I said more!"
"Yeah? Like what?"
"……The prosecutor is leading the witness?"
"Impressive."