Chapter 229
Before the Central Pharmacist Review Committee meeting for Antrozol's launch, Kim Hyeongjung, CEO of Myungwha Pharma, former MFDS Director Oh Jin-sik, and Lee Jeongchan of the Minwoo Party held several secret meetings—this has come to light.
News poured in all day long. I'd been holed up in the hotel for five days just in case, but it felt like I could finally head out tomorrow. No one had time to care about the whistleblower anymore.
People were left speechless by the endless stream of Lee Jeongchan's corruption scandals, and even in the relatively freewheeling radio news, the announcer let out an audible sigh on air. At this point, Lee Se-hyung's suicide attempt stunt was effectively buried.
The public outrage that had initially targeted me after news of Lee Se-hyung's suicide attempt had died down too. Not completely, of course.
A lot more people were stepping up to defend me now.
sda**** : Ang?
ops**** : I'm a girl, you perv lol
Anyway, with things turning out like this, people stopped wondering if I was the whistleblower. Even if they kept prying, it didn't matter.
Soon, Park Younggi would transfer to the Seoul Central District Prosecutors' Office and take over all investigations related to Lee Jeongchan. When he announced that the results showed they couldn't identify the whistleblower, it'd end with the whistleblower remaining a mysterious unknown figure.
Of course, since Park Younggi was still at the Western District Prosecutors' Office, if Central really dug hard into me, it could come out... But announcing they'd caught the whistleblower amid the chaos of the Myungwha Pharma scandal? That'd just incite public fury.
They'd be lucky not to get trashed for being idiot prosecutors who couldn't prioritize in a crisis.
"Attorney, you're here?"
The next day, I checked out of the hotel and headed straight to the office. Kang Minjae had sent photos of reporters camped in the hallway, calling it the office view with the river, but now the corridor was spotless, like nothing happened. I vaguely remembered something similar before—probably when the building owner, Lee Yeongho, grabbed a broom and chased them off.
Didn't work this time?
"The cafe owner wasn't around?"
"Yeah, called and he's off vacationing in Jeju. Ah, if the cafe owner had been there, he'd have swept the reporters away with that broom for real. Too bad."
Kang Minjae smacked his lips.
"But we're still getting emails asking if you're the whistleblower. No idea what to do."
He opened the office inbox and showed me. About thirty unread emails piled up. Quick glances showed names of internet media outlets asking for confirmation on whether I was the whistleblower.
"No need to reply. With the scandal raging like wildfire, who has time to care about the whistleblower?"
I said as I sat at my desk. Kang Minjae scurried over and slammed my desk.
"Public opinion's one thing, but there are tons still demanding we state our position. Our work email's gonna crash at this rate."
"Send 'em all to spam. Anything with 'whistleblower' goes straight to spam."
"……Ah, got it!"
"And it'll die down on its own soon anyway. We've got more bombs to drop."
I pulled a file from my briefcase and set it in front of Kang Minjae.
"Weren't we just waiting for Deputy Chief Park Younggi's promotion now?"
"Sure, but getting promoted to Central's third deputy chief amid this mess? Not easy, even with pull from the elders."
It wasn't regular rotation season, and swapping commanders mid-crisis required caution. I wanted Park Younggi's promotion most, but as a mere lawyer, I couldn't apply that pressure myself.
But I could lend some momentum.
"Highlight the prosecution's incompetence now, and calls to change the commander will follow. Best if Park Younggi—who uncovered the Myungwha Pharma-Lee Jeongchan link—gets promoted before the elders push. Make it feel like what the public wants."
Regular folks don't know much about the prosecution. They can easily demand a leadership change but won't name who. They don't know who's eligible. So, stir up demands for change, and Park Younggi's promotion becomes the natural outcome.
"Hmm, but how do we expose their incompetence?"
"The prosecution's too busy with Lee Jeongchan to catch the big stuff. What do you think that is?"
Kang Minjae pondered my sudden question, then answered crisply.
"Myungwoon University Hospital helping Lee Se-hyung fake his disability, right?"
"Exactly. It's known he got rehab there ongoing. But once his legs were proven fine, they should've investigated immediately. No news mentions Myungwoon at all."
Kang Minjae nodded.
"And the departments involved—neurosurgery and rehab—are must-haves for politicians' kids dodging military service. We need to check if they helped other celebs' kids with exemptions or fake illnesses too."
"Right. But the prosecution's ignoring it, chasing scandals willy-nilly. A national agency with access to tons of info knows less than random internet outlets. Public dissatisfaction's already huge, isn't it?"
"Yes. And your media bros have pointed out the rest is up to the agencies."
"Exactly. Time to hammer that home—expose the commander's incompetence and drill in the need for new leadership."
"Sigh. Can't trust 'em even when spoon-fed the job."
"That's a good line."
"Huh?"
Kang Minjae had just mumbled, but it packed a punch. "Spoon-fed prosecution that still screws up." No matter how eloquently you explain, one punchy phrase sways hearts more.
['Summoning Myungwoon Neurosurgery and Rehab Chief Now? …Prosecution Dragged by Public Opinion']
Negativity sells anywhere. People get more kick from criticism than praise. Not because I buy into original sin, but from experience.
Anti-prosecution sentiment exploded after yesterday's broadcast. Someone even showed up at Central with a picket: "What the hell is the prosecution doing?"
Online, even stale rumors dubbed "stale rice cake bait" resurfaced, spawning wild speculation. "Can't touch cuz of ties to so-and-so?" "That old Myungwoon incident holding them back?" I didn't know the truth, and plenty were likely pure rumors.
The prosecution promised swift action, but the public wasn't satisfied. Soon after, good news arrived—nearly two months since the case kicked into high gear.
▲ Park Younggi, Third Deputy Prosecutor, Seoul Central District Prosecutors' Office (from Deputy Prosecutor, Seoul Western District Prosecutors' Office)