Chapter 181
As the door to the inner office swung open, the two men turned toward us as if they'd been waiting for it. Jo Bongjun crossed his arms defensively, still looking displeased with Kim Chan-young.
"So what gives? This guy's really a college student like I thought?"
Jo Bongjun skipped over Kim Chan-young and stared at me, as if demanding I answer.
"He's a college student, yes."
"......But how the hell is he an insider at Myeonghwa Pharmaceuticals?"
Choi Jonghyeon couldn't hide his bewilderment either. I took a seat at the conference table where they'd been sitting and pulled out the chair next to me for Kim Chan-young. He sat down smoothly and replied.
"My great-uncle's on the board at Myeonghwa Pharmaceuticals. He's not a researcher or anything, but he's part of management."
Jo Bongjun shot another glance at me, as if checking if this was true. I nodded silently. We'd just come from that other room after discussing exactly this.
Kim Chan-young had stepped up as an insider, but I'd questioned what real help a mere college kid with some shares could provide. That's when he'd dropped this bombshell: his mother Kim Hwayoung's younger brother was on Myeonghwa's board.
The guy had lived off his famous actress sister's handouts since childhood, never holding down a proper job even into his forties. Go Sangjun knew all about it and had handed him a board seat at Myeonghwa right before their IPO—a ceremonial position, since everyone knew he lacked the skills for real work. Still, as an executive, he had easy access to internal documents.
And hilariously, the great-uncle hated Go Sangjun for sidelining his once-rising-star actress sister as a concubine. He griped about being parked at a non-listed outfit like Myeonghwa when Wooshin had all those major affiliates, and complained that even that was just Go's condescending charity—he couldn't stand the sight of him.
I didn't think highly of the man personally. But he doted on his nephew Kim Chan-young enough to seem more like a father figure than Go Sangjun ever had, pathetic as that was.
Anyway, Kim Chan-young assured me his great-uncle wouldn't ask questions about where the documents were going, would hand over whatever I asked for, and keep it all under wraps.
"Hmm. No funny business, I hope?"
"I've vetted that. There won't be."
"Even if there is risk, it's on me to handle it. Anyway, Apollo...... What should I call you?"
"Just call me Uncle."
"I'll go with 'sir.' You, the reporters, and the lawyer became public enemy number one to Myeonghwa the second you took this case. If there's blowback, it'll hit my uncle for leaking docs and me for asking. And that's for me to deal with."
"Look at this kid. All balls and no brains. Hey, punk. How come I'm 'sir' and this guy's 'reporter'?"
"......You said you're an investment specialist. 'Investment specialist' sounds kinda weird."
Jo Bongjun burst out laughing at Kim Chan-young's retort.
"Damn, you got me there. Anyway, you're vouching for him, right Cha? Saying he's solid. This whole play was your design anyway—you wouldn't stick your nose in a finished bowl of rice unless it was clean. So I'll roll with it."
The moment Jo Bongjun said this whole play was your design, Kim Chan-young whipped around to stare at me, his face twisted in betrayal.
I'd told him we were building trust, but keeping this quiet felt a bit awkward now...... Though it wasn't really hiding—it just hadn't come up.
"......Wow, this lawyer's no good. For real."
Kim Chan-young gaped, muttering "wow, wow" in disbelief.
He'd have figured out I was the architect eventually anyway, so no harm done. But Jo Bongjun needed to zip it.
"Tell me what documents you need. I'll ask him to check tomorrow. If they don't exist, I can't deliver, but if they do, I'll get back to you right away."
"Proof they knew about suspicions of falsified clinical records sent to U.S. research institutions. Records of the process when researcher Lee Junsung went to the U.S. And most crucially, any analysis showing the reliability of the research they commissioned in the U.S. was low—that'd be gold."
Kim Chan-young jotted down Choi Jonghyeon's rapid-fire list, then set down his pen and crossed his arms. He closed his eyes briefly, as if searching his memory, then opened them.
"First off, that last one you mentioned—I already asked my uncle about it. If he said it doesn't exist, it probably doesn't, or maybe he can't access it. I'll check on the falsification suspicions and Lee Junsung right away."
"Solid."
Choi Jonghyeon smiled, and Kim Chan-young dipped his head gratefully.
Whatever dark side Kim Chan-young was hiding, he came off as impeccably polite on the surface. Almost like Kang Minjae if his guts turned pitch black.
"Oh, and just in case, I'll grab the Antrozol research report too. Something useful might turn up there."
"Nice, sharp kid. Yeah, external reports always differ from internals."
"Got it."
"How long we talking? Time's tight."
The summons Jo Bongjun got specified the prosecutors' office, not the police station. They'd either filed directly there or fast-tracked it through their hotline. Meaning we'd face off against a prosecutor immediately.
"Not much wiggle room before the prosecutor's summons."
"Ah, the prosecutor's hearing. I'm waiting on that too. For the follow-up stream."
Even if docs arrived post-summons, we could submit them as evidence later. But securing them beforehand was ideal. With it going straight to prosecutors, conviction wouldn't end in a summary trial. I had no intention of dragging this to full trial—years wasted on one case. For a case thriving on public attention, speed was everything. We couldn't afford to lose momentum.
To minimize procedural delays and keep interest from fading, we'd need to keep tossing fresh bait. But that wouldn't be easy. These cases rarely stopped at spreading false info—they bundled in business obstruction charges. The summons hadn't mentioned obstruction yet, but that was predictable.
Even with a hotline, intake to complainant statement took time minimum. Timing it up, Myeonghwa's initial defamation filing against Jo Bongjun predated his NewsNow appearance. Once he went public and started streaming, the case ballooned. By now, they'd likely requested adding obstruction. A call from an investigator or staffer would confirm soon.
* * *
Seoul Western District Prosecutors' Office.
A place I'd once worked. My first posting as prosecutor was Central District; second here. Third brought me back to Central, where I ended my career.
And Hwang Youngchan had cheered my Central return the loudest.
"Prosecutor Cha?"
I looked up at the familiar voice from ahead.
"Deputy Chief, good to see you."
"Same here, naturally. Heard all about you. Prosecutor Cha's a big name now, huh?"
"You're too kind."
I'd heard "you're famous" plenty, but rarely believed it carried real weight. This time felt different. The deputy chief was well-liked and respected. He'd taken a shine to me during my Western days. No big ambitions for power or money—he'd gone academic post-retirement, as I recalled. We weren't close enough for regular contact, but we'd exchange pleasantries now and then. He'd been thrilledest when I transferred back to Central from here, treating it like his own win despite my first posting being there.
Never expected to run into him here.
"Figured with that pull getting you back to Central—not Northern or Southern—you'd climb the ladder forever. Shocked when you quit. Thought you'd joined a big firm. Or got bumped to a branch office?"
"Nothing like that. Circumstances just led there."
"Fair enough. After nailing Jo Jintae, no way they'd sideline you to a branch. So what brings you here...... Ah, the Myeonghwa Pharma case?"
"You knew?"
"Of course. Heard Criminal Division 5 chief say no one wanted it after seeing Prosecutor Cha on the counsel list. Haha. Probably landed with Jeong Changyun, right?"
"Yes."
"Yeah, sounds right. He's our corporate specialist."
Knowing the lead prosecutor meant they were watching closely.
"Weren't you next door to Prosecutor Jeong back then?"
Were we? Five years ago for him was fifteen for me—fuzzy. But I hadn't forgotten Jeong. Judicial Research Institute classmate. Not close, not distant. Medical school grad, so older than me who'd skipped undergrad law. I didn't recall his future self clearly—no strategy came to mind. But no bad image lingered, so probably not a Wooshin lapdog. Maybe I could bank on his neutrality this time.
"Oh, look at the time. Gotta run. Let's grab tea after this wraps."
"I'll drop by soon. Take care."
"You too. Nail this case, Prosecutor Cha."
Shortly after the deputy chief left, a booming voice called from behind.
"Lawyer Cha!"
Jo Bongjun. He'd said his mom was making samgyetang before the summons and left from home—his face gleamed, nourished.
"Look respectable enough? Pass, right?"
I'd told him to pick his most sober outfit, funeral-appropriate. Not bad. Beard was iffy, but worlds cleaner than usual.
"Good. Remember the guidelines?"
"Yeah. You'll handle most of it, so shut up unless the prosecutor asks me directly."
"No need to go full mute, but yeah—keep quiet."
"That's the same as shut up."
We headed into the prosecutors' office together.
"Got a strategy?"
"Nothing fancy. Same as I shared yesterday. But the prosecutor's my JRI classmate, so not a total unknown."
"......The lead guy's your classmate?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you say?"
"I just did."
"Before now!"
"Would it change anything?"
Jo Bongjun stared incredulously, then nodded slowly, convinced.
"True. With your personality, even a classmate wouldn't be buddies. Be honest, Cha—loner your whole life?"
......Maybe I should just drop this guy's defense?