You Have Been Defended - Chapter 28
Kang Minjae seemed awfully curious about who we were off to meet. The moment I punched the address into the navigation, he took off like a bat out of hell. I couldn't help grabbing the handle mounted above the car window.
We pulled up to a rundown building—a dingy strip mall where faded signs clung desperately to walls with peeling paint everywhere.
I paused out front, a wry smile tugging at my lips. It struck me again: I was slowly rewriting the future I remembered.
In the future I'd lived through, Kim Yeonjun was already rotting away in prison on a life sentence. I'd gotten him acquitted. And if we won this trial, Jeong Hyejin—the star author who'd go on riding high—would suffer a massive blow.
And the guy we were about to meet? It felt like yanking someone who was set for two easy years into my chaos way too soon.
"What floor, sir?"
"Second. Let's go."
It was an old building without even an elevator. The second floor was lined with a small clinic, a pharmacy, a Chinese takeout joint, and the like.
At the end hung a weathered sign: Daebak Investigation Office.
I headed that way, and Kang Minjae hurried after me, blurting out,
"We're going to an investigation office?"
"Yeah."
"You know them?"
"Yeah."
"You, the FM Robot, know an investigation office? I figured you'd never touch something like this. How do you even know about it?"
He was firing questions nonstop, so I just shoved the door open without a word.
Kang Minjae must've been spooked; he slipped behind me as we went in.
A bunch of guys in black suits were sprawled on the sofas, slurping down jjajangmyeon.
That's what FM means—not me. Anyone could see it was straight out of a movie's intro for shady investigators.
"Aigoo! Come on in, customer! Here for a consultation?"
The bell on the door had barely jingled when one guy shot to his feet. The others didn't even glance our way, too busy with their noodles.
That one's name was Dae-cheol, I recalled. The first time I'd met him, he had a few underlings; now he seemed like the runt of the litter.
"Dae-cheol. Where's Taesik?"
"...Pardon?"
"Where's Taesik, I said."
I stepped close to the guy chowing down on jjambbong, and he flinched, spilling broth. Pissed despite it being his own mess, he slammed his bowl on the table and stood.
"Hey, who the hell are you, calling our boss by his first name like that? Cop?"
"Hyeong-sik. I'm not a cop, so relax and fetch your boss while I'm asking nice."
"...How do you know my name if you're not a cop! Shit, you are one. Guys!"
Hyeong-sik yelled, and the sofa crew jumped up en masse. Some faces I didn't know, others vaguely familiar.
They'd pegged us for cops, no doubt—edging closer warily, eyeing anything they could grab as a weapon.
"Sir, what do we do?!"
Kang Minjae whispered from behind me.
"Where's Taesik?"
"Fuck off, none of your business!"
"Taesik, where you at? Hiding in the office playing hwatu on the computer, right?"
I headed for the door marked "President's Office," and they swarmed to block it.
"How the hell do you know our boss plays hwatu? And drops three mil a month on it?!"
"I never said he drops three mil a month."
"...Sh, shit, well—anyway! Why do you want our boss—"
Bang! Before Dae-cheol finished, the president's office door flew open—kicked hard, by the sound of it. The guys guarding it like lawmakers blocking a bill got shoved back with grunts.
"What the fuck's all this noise?!"
Out stormed a beast of a man. Arms thick as a man's face, covered in tattoos; face scarred from knife fights here and there.
Jang Taesik. The one I was looking for.
"Gasp, sir—what now? He looks like a gangster."
Kang Minjae, still hiding behind me, whispered at the sight.
Lucky he never got posted to the criminal division back when he was a prosecutor. Places like this crawled with types like that; he'd be trembling every time.
"Which little shit's yapping and causing a scene?!"
Taesik bellowed again, scanning his underlings. They were swinging arms to keep their distance, so he overlooked me at first.
"Me, you bastard."
"...Wha—Prosecutor?"
I played along teasingly, and he spotted me, charging over. Bonus: he booted his wary goons aside.
"Prosecutor! What brings a fancy guy like you to this dump?"
Was Taesik just dumb enough for the slip, or on purpose? Hard to say.
"What're you idiots doing? Clear the table and get drinks for the prosecutor!"
"Got a colleague here too."
I pulled a still-hiding Kang Minjae to my side, and Taesik groveled louder.
"His too! Hurry! And why's the office reeking of Chinese food? Air it out, you morons!"
"Yes, boss!"
The beast treating him nice must've eased Kang Minjae's nerves. He naturally followed me to the now-cleared sofa by the table.
"Playing hwatu, huh."
"Aigoo, no way, Prosecutor. Even a lowlife like me, after you gave me this new life— I'd never dare illegal gambling..."
"Thought you were on NetXBlock, but it's illegal hwatu?"
"...No, sir."
He averted his eyes—guilty as charged. Not my business anymore. I wasn't a prosecutor, and back in my old life digging into Wooshin, I'd bent rules on wiretaps and tails myself.
"I'm not a prosecutor anymore. You don't watch the news?"
"Huh? Not anymore? Shit, I freaked out for nothing."
"Not a prosecutor, so you thinking of messing with me?"
"Aigoo, no! I was just reflecting on how I overreacted. Of course not."
Two aloe juices appeared before us—Kang Minjae's too. Aloe juice trendy without me knowing?
"Anyway, not a prosecutor—what brings you?"
"Lawyer now."
"Ah, lawyer. So he's from the same firm?"
"No firm. Just opened my own office."
"What? You? Why?"
"Had my reasons. We'll talk later. Got one favor."
Taesik sat up straight, calculator in hand.
"Depends on the job. Suspect the wife cheating, want a tail? Rate's this."
He tapped and flashed the calculator.
"No wife."
"Kid getting bullied at school, need dirt? This much."
New numbers.
"No wife, I said."
"Could be an illegitimate kid—"
"You think I'm easy pickings after all this time? Spouting crap like that."
"Gasp, sorry! So what do you want from me?"
Kang Minjae, who'd been watching fascinated, cleared his throat at my glance.
"Well, see, what we're asking is, uh..."
"Don't chicken out—just spit it."
"...Yes, sir. Mr. Taesik? Boss? What should I call you?"
"Whatever's comfy."
"Th-then, Taesik..."
Taesik's eyes flashed fierce the second he started.
"Boss it is! Anyway, there's this company, Blue Island Media. They produce the drama The Distance Between You and Me that's airing now."
"Oh, that. Super fun. My crew all watch it together."
"...Yeah, they plagiarized our client's work, so we're suing."
To the slack-jawed Taesik, Kang Minjae gave a quick rundown of the client's plight.
"Ah, got it. Find the printer they deal with, without tipping off Blue Island?"
"Yes."
"That all?"
Taesik eyed me; Kang Minjae nudged.
"Not quite, but start there. Once we find the printer, might need more."
"Pay?"
"None."
"Pardon?"
"No pay."
Stunned looks from Taesik and even Kang Minjae.
"Taesik. When the prosecutor told you to go straight and let you out— all that 'I'll repay the favor' talk a lie?"
"...N-no. But you said you were the prosecutor then—"
"That was then. This is now. Right?"
"Ah... yeah..."
"So what do you do? Pull out the abacus against the prosecutor?"
"...No."
"Then find 'em and report back."
I fished out a business card. Kang Minjae handed one too. Wonder when he'd printed extras.
"Got it. I'll come to the office once I find them."
"Good. We're out. Finish your illegal hwatu."
"It's not illegal... Anyway, take care!"
"Take care!"
Taesik bowed 90 degrees, yelling; his crew snapped to follow.
"Whew, thought I was gonna die of fright..."
The second we stepped out, Kang Minjae clutched his chest.
Taesik had the look for it. Arms like faces, hands like vices—could probably bend rebar one-handed. And he just might.
"But can we trust him?"
"He's solid."
"How do you know him? Looks like you got him out of jail."
"He took the fall for someone else's crime while in the mob life. I caught the real perp, reformed him, and sprung him."
No need for details, so I kept it vague.
Kang Minjae nodded.
"Makes sense why he's so deferential. But trusting gangsters... I'm iffy. You sure?"
"No worries."
Taesik was my go-to from two years on, through to 2018—eight years of dirty work. I knew him inside out.
But no way to explain that to Kang Minjae.
"...Well, if you say so. Must be trustworthy. Scary as hell, though."
And as if to prove my trust, Taesik called the very next day.