Chapter 161
A surprisingly large crowd of reporters had gathered in front of the prosecutor's photo line. They were putting in real effort to inflate my trivial matter as a no-name lawyer into something monumental—not so much as to look suspicious, but just enough to make me seem like a notorious criminal. Perfectly balanced. These reporters, mobilized for the task, kept checking their watches, waiting for my scheduled 2 PM summons.
"There are really a ton of people. You sure you can handle going in alone, Lawyer?"
Kang Minjae peered anxiously at the prosecutor's entrance from inside the car.
"What's the problem? I can walk just fine."
I replied nonchalantly, and he let out a small laugh. I was the one facing indictment, yet he seemed more rattled than me. He was trying to put on a brave front, but it clearly wasn't enough to ease his mind.
"How long do you think the questioning will take? Should I wait here?"
"Nah, don't. It'll drag on."
In truth, I knew exactly what they wanted from me. They'd shove whatever flimsy evidence they'd scraped together in my face and demand I confess. This wasn't about any solid charges against me; it was just an investigation for the sake of investigating. They had no clever playbook for that. But one thing was certain: they'd keep me locked in that interrogation room as long as possible, wasting my time pointlessly.
"Lawyer, I'll come with you as your counsel."
Kang Minjae pulled a tie from the console box and looped it around his neck.
"No matter how I think about it, you shouldn't go alone. I might not be much help, but at least..."
"Forget I said I'm fine?"
"Lawyer. If you don't trust me, bring someone else. I know you're a damn good attorney, but even so, defending yourself isn't efficient. You know that."
He wasn't wrong. A lawyer needed objectivity above all, especially now. With my bias screaming I'm innocent, any pretense of detachment was out the window.
Still, no one came to mind who I could trust with this case. Go Sangjun had just sent his youngest son to prison, Go Sanggyeong her only daughter behind bars, and Taegwang Law Firm—the nation's top firm—had racked up back-to-back losses trying to defend them. All three were gunning for me now. Helping me would drag anyone else into the fire, plain as day. Even Kang Minjae, whose family was powerful enough for Taegwang's Yoon Wonyeong to value him, might not withstand the Go brothers' wrath.
"Drop it. My mind's made up."
"...Got it. Just call when it's over. I'll come pick you up."
"How long are you gonna keep moping like that, Kang?"
"How can I relax when you're suffering under false charges like this? Don't worry about me. Let me fret all I want."
Oh Yanghun, who usually brushed everything off with a hearty laugh and gentle warmth, had started sighing more ever since the tax audit escalated to a tax evasion probe. His face reminded me of my past life, when I'd been sidelined from the special prosecution team over retaliation claims. I didn't want them gnawing away at themselves with worry like this.
"There'll be a way."
I unbuckled my seatbelt as I spoke. Kang Minjae's eyes widened.
"Huh? Really?"
"Yeah. So don't stress. Prep those documents with the office manager."
"You really have a plan, right?"
"I said yes."
In reality, no. I'd brainstormed escape routes, but nothing solid. Still, if a white lie like this could calm them, it was worth it. Thank God he couldn't see through my abilities.
"I'll be back."
No more time to dawdle. I stepped out of Kang Minjae's car and headed for the photo line.
Sitting in a prosecutor's interrogation room—not as the investigator, but as the suspect—was a first for me. Is this what it felt like? Alone in the dim space, waiting for the prosecutor to arrive.
The mirror across from me wasn't a mirror; it was a one-way window for outsiders to watch. A camcorder on a tripod by the desk blinked red. Silent pressure: every move, every unconscious tell, captured and analyzed.
Even I, with years in the system, felt the weight. How must it crush ordinary people? For prosecutors, handling a cowed suspect must be like eating cold porridge. I'd been one of them, no doubt.
Suspects have the right not to be treated as guilty until conviction. But in this room, engineered to scream power imbalance, was that even possible?
"You must be tired."
About fifteen minutes later, the prosecutor entered. Kim Dongsu. I'd gotten intel from Lee Ye-jin, his peer from training academy. She said he wasn't the standout type. He was likely to become deputy chief next year, but by then, most of his class would be too. No proof of brilliance there.
For someone needing to exploit weaknesses, his low profile was the real problem. Easier if he'd been a Yang Hansuk type.
Anyway, my only strategy right now: avoid indictment. If it went to trial, the image damage would be irreversible. Even an acquittal wouldn't stop the pundits from claiming "smoke means fire" until the verdict.
And who'd ink the juiciest columns? None other than Iljungilbo's editor-in-chief.
"Big crowd out there. You were famous in the office, I hear, but you've gone national now."
He flipped through the case file with a joke that fell flat.
"Cha Juhan. Let's keep it simple. Confess clean now, pay the back taxes and fine—no jail time."
Through his rimless glasses, he read impassively.
"In 2008, you bought land in northern Gyeonggi's greenbelt. Early 2010, announcement: greenbelt lifted. It's part of a new city development. Junk land turned to milk and honey overnight. Your paper profit? Over 3 billion won."
Just future knowledge. I'd remembered my ex-wife stomping around, regretting not buying when development rumors hit. Anyone in my shoes would've done the same. People fantasize about time-travel land grabs all the time. I just made it real.
Northern Gyeonggi land would climb higher post-completion—I'd planned to sit on it. Hadn't expected 3 billion already. A few more years, it'd multiply. Annoying to deal with prosecutors over pocket change.
My real focus? Bitcoin, which the NIS was mining feverishly even now. Compared to that windfall, this was a mosquito bite.
"Struggling with loans in the office, then boom—post-resignation, massive fees, snapping up land like crazy. Who wouldn't get suspicious?"
What could I say? My worldview shifted overnight. Needed big cash; client fees weren't enough anymore. Just growing assets a bit. Speculation? Try investment.
Not insider info—just timing. Unfair, really.
"Development decision was 2010, but talks predated it. No prior tip, and you'd dump billions into trash land? You know better."
"So, short of bribing an insider, what choice did I have?"
Kim Dongsu nodded crisply at my retort.
"Now we're talking sense."
"Curious, then—who's this connection the prosecution dug up? I don't know them. What makes them leak goldmine info to me? Old classmate? Family?"
He didn't answer. Hadn't lined up the witness yet. Smoothly, he pivoted.
"Denying it, got it. Same for tax evasion?"
"No denial needed on taxes. My accountants handle everything—clean, no loopholes, full compliance. They even pushed for a corp setup multiple times; said it'd save hassle. Skipped it to avoid any personal fund dips that might look shady."
All true. I stubbornly stuck to sole proprietorship, paying a fortune in taxes. Habit from long ago: no gaps for later exploits.
"Ah, looks like word hasn't reached you yet. This morning, your tax firm admitted to cooking double books."