Chapter 226
[-Assemblyman Jo Hyeokgeun of the Minwoo Party has joined us. Hello? -Yes, hello. This is Jo Hyeokgeun of the Minwoo Party.]
With things moving along so briskly, all I could do right now was sit in the office and pop popcorn. I'd laid all the groundwork; now I just needed to watch the unfolding situation and time the Myeonghwa Pharmaceuticals bomb perfectly.
I'd heard Lee Jeongchan was due at the prosecutors' office at 4 p.m. And before that, news came that a Minwoo Party assemblyman was appearing on the radio. It seemed designed for me to listen to the radio while waiting for his arrival.
I'll never die alone with you, that's what this is. A Minwoo Party assemblyman discussing Lee Jeongchan on radio means the party leadership has at least tacitly approved it. Even if Lee doesn't resign, he'll be completely sidelined in this presidential election.
"Lawyer, I just got a text from a classmate at Taegwang."
Kang Minjae checked his phone and spoke up.
"Lee Jeongchan went to Taegwang for representation, but they ultimately decided to refuse."
"Taegwang refused?"
"Yeah. Sounds like they debated it for days. Decision came yesterday."
Taegwang's close ties to Wooshin Group were already public knowledge. And Lee Jeongchan was Wooshin's sponsored politician. If Taegwang was dumping him, it meant Wooshin had made up its mind too.
Politics propped up Lee Jeongchan with many pillars, but Wooshin was the biggest one. The prosecutors wouldn't go easy on him now either.
"With such massive connections between Wooshin and Lee Jeongchan, if Wooshin makes this call, they see no path to recovery for him," Kang Minjae said, leaning back.
I nodded.
"They're cutting out the rotten flesh to slip away clean."
"Even rotten flesh aside, ditching him when we don't know what nonsense he'll spout in interrogation feels risky. Makes you wonder if some deal went down."
True enough. But if a deal had been struck beforehand, Taegwang would've taken the case. This looked like a one-sided abandonment, and any Wooshin connections—like prosecutors on the take for rice cake bribes—would handle the cleanup. Ideally, everything would blow up if he got locked up, but with what we knew and could uncover right now limited to Myeonghwa Pharmaceuticals, that was impossible.
Things have an order; rushing now would ruin it all.
"Wooshin can't stop the Myeonghwa probe since the investigation's already underway. From their view, Myeonghwa's rotten flesh too."
"Still disappointing. We hooked this big-shot politician with such effort, but might not squeeze more out of him."
I agreed with Kang's sentiment, but blocking Lee Jeongchan was satisfaction enough for me. The moment he won, Wooshin would've grown wings and rampaged. Stopping that slowed their terrifying expansion considerably.
"Step by step. We've got plenty of time."
The massive evils rooted in Korea were all tangled together. In a movie, yanking one would unravel everything in a satisfying reveal. But sadly, my world was gritty reality stinking of rot.
"It's 4 already. Flip on a news channel. Should catch Lee Jeongchan's entrance."
At 4:10, Lee Jeongchan appeared before the prosecutors' office. Reporters swarmed like a sea of people, rushing him the second he stepped from the car. Wheelchair-bound, bucket hat pulled low, head bowed—he bore no trace of his usual commanding presence.
By societal standards, he was firmly elderly, but the man who'd meticulously dyed his hair black and projected youth was long gone. Now, just a frail old man slumped in the chair.
His aide paused briefly at the photo line amid a flash storm like lightning. Lee never lifted his head, not even once. Reporters zoomed in desperately, crouching low for his face.
"Is there poison on those prosecution summons? Why do perfectly healthy people arrive wheeled in like they're poisoned zombies the moment they get one?"
Kang Minjae snorted derisively.
It was a cheap ploy to evoke pity from his dwindling supporters with this sickly image. But that wasn't all. Pretend to collapse during questioning to halt the probe, buy time flat on a hospital bed. Then cry overzealous prosecution to sway opinion.
Everyone saw through this transparent act, yet people kept using it because it worked.
"Maybe I should've wheeled in last time I faced prosecution."
Suddenly, my honest stand felt foolish. Such an easy trick existed. Just practice faking a collapse—cheaper than a good acting coach.
"Guess that's it."
He'd have made better theater collapsing under the flashes at the line. Ignoring questions, lingering just a minute before entering was anticlimactic.
"Still, shoving a heavyweight like Lee Jeongchan into prosecution feels damn good."
Kang Minjae turned off the TV and returned to his seat. I sat at my desk and opened my laptop.
With Lee Jeongchan in, Lee Se-hyung would follow soon. His perfectly functional legs weren't just about faking disability. Special admissions for severe handicaps, military exemption—these were Korea's hottest potatoes he'd sidestepped at once. Time to hold him accountable.
Issues get buried under bigger ones too easily. No wonder celeb dating scandals drop during political firestorms. With Light and Salt donations exposed as slush funds, his exemptions might fade to the background.
But I'd prepared. Already tasked NIS with comment ops. Jo Bongjun and Choi Jonghyeon would cover it on their next broadcast too.
Anyway, time to browse articles.
"Lawyer, looks like Jo Hyeokgeun mentioned on radio that we need to find the tipster—you."
Kang Minjae, seeing the same, sent me links.
I hadn't expected zero pushback on hunting the tipster. All I'd done was fan the flames like a fire breaking out—worst case, obstruction of Light and Salt Foundation business. But with the ensuing chaos, evacuations, fire trucks, etc., I couldn't fully dodge moral blame. That's why I stayed hidden.
Oh ho. Planning to corner me like this? What, a game of tag?