Chapter 22
Yang Hansuk stood trembling before the section chief's office, his teeth chattering.
The trial had ended in a starkly divided verdict, and Hwang Youngchan, seated in the gallery, had stormed out in a fury. No sooner had the gavel fallen than he'd summoned Yang Hansuk. He was in for a monumental dressing-down. Hwang had promised to arrange a meeting with some higher-ups after the trial—would that still hold?
People passing in the hallway glanced at him sidelong. Some whispered. He couldn't make out the words, but he knew what they were thinking. 'Yang got utterly humiliated by Cha Juhan in court, huh?'
Yang Hansuk's clenched fists shook. But he took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the section chief's office.
"Where's the chief?"
The clerks silently pointed to a door. With a sigh, Yang Hansuk shuffled toward it. He'd thought he'd steeled himself just by stepping into the office, but no such luck. His hand reached for the doorknob but hesitated.
-What are you dawdling for! Get in here!
Hwang Youngchan's bellow echoed from inside. Startled, Yang Hansuk flung the door open and hurried in.
Hwang stood with his back turned, gazing out the window. Even the silhouette of a mere middle-aged man made Yang shrink.
"You said you were confident, didn't you?"
"……."
"Even against Cha Juhan, you said it was a sure thing. Those were your words."
"I have no excuses!" Yang bowed deeply, shouting.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"I'm sorry."
"It wasn't even ambiguous—there was ironclad evidence! And the prosecution couldn't find it? You think this humiliation makes any sense? Especially against that lunatic taking shots at his own house from the first case!"
"I have nothing to say, even if I had ten mouths. It's my failure."
Hwang whipped around to face him. Yang kept his head down, folded nearly in half.
"Now the Jo Jintae murder case is resurfacing! They say Cha Juhan got it reassigned, solved it himself, got disillusioned with the prosecution, and quit. That's why he's targeting us on purpose! Do you have any idea what the prosecution looks like in the media now?"
Hwang slammed his desk repeatedly. Yang flinched with each thud.
"I never knew Cha Juhan was that good in court. A mere five-year vet……."
Hwang muttered, and Yang seized the moment to lift his head.
"I was shocked too, sir. I knew Senior Cha was good in trial, but not this good. Felt like facing a 20-year pro. Especially when he tripped up Kim Hyeongjun on the factory business—clearly trying to fabricate motive. I even told Kim Hyeongjun to get ahead of it…… But he handled the cross without a hint of panic. And the way he controlled the room……."
"Shut your mouth."
Yang had meant to explain why he'd had no chance, but to Hwang, it sounded like praise for Cha Juhan right in his face—enough to turn his stomach.
"Cha Juhan deliberately left that video off the evidence list for the show. If he'd brought it from the start, we'd have dropped the charges pre-trial. No humiliation. He did it on purpose."
That jogged Yang's memory. When Cha had suddenly produced the video, claiming new evidence, he'd suspected something…….
"When Senior Cha came for the autopsy report with the power of attorney…… He told me it wasn't about proving innocence, just mitigation. Neither you nor I dreamed he'd bluff like that, sir. Senior Cha wasn't the type."
"No idea what he's thinking. The sudden 180…… Got a guardian angel now?"
Flying through court like a 20-year prosecutor? It didn't add up. Hwang admitted Cha had always been talented—stood out since training academy. That's why he'd mentored him. But he'd made mistakes like anyone, and his FM Robot nickname fit his rigid, plodding style. Now he was lying slickly, pulling stunts in court. A guy barely mid-30s transforming overnight like he'd seen it all? Unfathomable.
"And Kang Minjae. What about him?"
Hwang asked abruptly, as if it just occurred to him.
"……No idea, sir."
"Pathetic. You know nothing."
"I'm sorry. I heard someone from Cha's office visited Kim Hyeongjun's factory, but no clue it was Kang Minjae. I was stunned seeing him approach Senior Cha during recess."
Yang had watched Cha leave the courtroom, only to see Kang Minjae sprinting up, breathless. He'd seen something handed over but never dreamed it was the smoking gun. Meaning Kang was working with Cha. Why? Wasn't he at Taegwang Law Firm now? Under one of their priciest seniors, no less. A few years, and he'd be free of associate hell regardless of billables. So why under freshly solo Cha Juhan?
"Maybe Kang Minjae's grandpa is backing Senior Cha."
"Shut up! Don't spout that crap! What if someone hears?!"
Yang clamped his mouth shut at Hwang's roar. But Hwang looked conflicted too—same suspicion flickering.
Yang fidgeted, gauging his mood.
"Finish indicting and trying Kim Hyeongjun properly."
After a long pause, Hwang spoke calmer. Yang exhaled in relief. No reassignment meant a chance remained.
"And bring a written apology."
"……Yes, sir."
"If I think you can replace Cha Juhan, I'll call you back. Until then, hole up in your office and do your damn job."
Yang squeezed his eyes shut. Every promise Hwang had made post-trial vanished before his eyes.
"Get out."
At Hwang's icy tone, Yang bowed deeply again and fled the office, face burning red.
"No usable bastards anywhere."
Hwang muttered, sinking into his chair. He needed to find a promising talent fast—a Cha Juhan replacement.
* * *
Kim Yeonjun called right after release from custody, but I told him to rest up before coming by. He'd been through hell mentally, and plenty of people to see. Plus, interview requests from the press would flood in—he'd need to kill his phone for a while.
Above all, wrapping a major case meant I needed a break too. After pulling near all-nighters, Kang Minjae and I slept it off and met at the office that evening.
"Counselor, you're here?"
After sunset, I walked in to find Kang had already set out snack bags on one side. I'd planned to treat him to barbecue nearby, but with this spread, no chance.
"Brought booze too. Victory gift."
He set an unopened whiskey on the table—a million-won bottle. A bit much.
"Soju's fine. Why whiskey?"
"Cheap at the liquor mart. Got ice too, in case."
Whiskey-appropriate snacks, ice bucket, tongs. Thorough.
"Eaten dinner?"
"Was gonna with you, so no. Thought we'd hit a local spot."
"Figured, so I ordered pizza. Cool with that?"
A staple from my prosecutor days. Easy to eat while working, no leftovers.
He'd clerked for me, so he knew my tastes. I'd smoked one outside; by return, pizza had arrived.
We ate quietly, no chit-chat.
"Feels like old clerking days. Probably not for you, though."
We polished off a pie; as I folded the box, he filled glasses with ice. On-the-rocks ready.
"No calls—blissful."
Landline unplugged, phones off against interview frenzy. En route, I'd glimpsed wild speculation about me, but ignored it. My goal: get known, build a rep. Ex-prosecutor blasting shoddy investigations—like a whistleblower.
The Kim Cheolhwan-Ye Heesuk case villain was so heinous it stole some thunder, but legal circles likely knew my name now.
"Cheers?"
Kang offered a glass. No cringey toasts like prosecutor dinners—nice change.
Clink! We sipped simultaneously.
Back in my old life, I'd never touched booze. Since rewinding a decade? Twice now. Not planning to get smashed, though.
"Counselor."
Kang, animatedly recapping case antics, suddenly turned serious.
"Hire me. I'll do great."
I'd figured it'd come up over drinks. I'd said one case only; now business was done.
"Kang."
"Yeah?"
"Why'd you think Kim Hyeongjun was guilty?"
He grinned awkwardly. "Told you—the reasoning."
"That's all?"
"Yeah."
[Lie] floated above Kang Minjae's head. First time I'd seen it from him.
"No, it's not."
"Huh?"
"There's more to why you thought that."
Noticing my guarded tone, he sighed.
I'd relented once, letting him tag along—tight schedule needed help. And I'd verified he truly believed Kim Yeonjun innocent for this case.
But he'd shifted seamlessly. Started with "this case only," escalated to playful "hire me" pressure.
Ten years prior memories or not, Kang hadn't been memorable in my life. Probably never crossed paths post-clerkship.
"Think I'm shady, Counselor?"
If I were a vanilla solo lawyer, maybe I'd welcome him—amiable, quick, hardworking.
But not me. I had an endgame; the path was treacherous. Trust no one lightly. Pick the wrong partner, hand them leverage later.
"Hard to say."
"Your first case post-solo. Didn't buy 'just mitigation.' Kept watching."
He grew earnest. "Like I said, second autopsy screamed Kim Hyeongjun. Figured that's why you took it first—convinced of innocence."
"But that's my conviction. For you, just suspicious circumstances. No reason for you to be sure."
"……Yeah. Truth is, I wasn't convinced Kim Yeonjun was innocent."