Chapter 3
Hwang Youngchan looked at me with a mocking sneer. I couldn't help but let out a hollow laugh.
Getting worked up over something this petty won't do. I got backstabbed by you and ended up dumped in cement.
"Haha, did you just laugh?"
"No, I didn't."
"Then what did I just see?"
"Must've been your imagination."
"I'm curious why you're suddenly acting like this. Some outdated rebellion?"
At this time, Hwang Youngchan and I were pretty close. He always pretended to be rational and upright, but with me, he'd vent about every dirty secret in the legal world. Those intimate stories were like spice to me, and I'd listen quietly. And that was just the start. When he fought with his wife, when his kids gave him grief, when the higher-ups screwed him over—whenever he needed to unload, he'd come to me.
So when I suddenly started ignoring him, it must've rattled him bad.
You bastard. After all that, you stabbed me in the back?
Even thinking about it now turned my stomach. But more than that, the gap between Hwang Youngchan in 2008 and 2018 was so vast it was almost comical. When did he turn into that?
"Tell me. Did I do something to upset you? If so, we should clear the air."
He probably thought I'd spill why I'd been dodging his calls and texts the moment I showed up, then apologize profusely. A normal junior prosecutor might've done just that. No, a normal junior prosecutor wouldn't have ignored their boss's calls in the first place.
"Tell me, Cha. Or is there trouble at home? You look off. I even asked Team Leader Oh, and he said you've seemed different these past few days."
I'd ignored him not for my sake, but his. If I'd met him without cooling off for three days, I might've smashed his jaw.
"Why, is it hard to talk about? Tell me."
A problem? Yeah. Even after three days of calming down, I still wanted to deck Hwang Youngchan.
"None."
"That's disappointing."
"I don't have to tell you everything, do I, sir?"
My response hit him like a slap. Predictable. He was probably thinking, This punk dares? Looking betrayed, he let out a hollow laugh of his own.
"What did you just say?"
"I said I don't have to tell you everything, sir."
"You seem pissed at me. Not gonna come clean?"
"Nothing to come clean about."
Hwang Youngchan shrugged off his jacket, shot to his feet, and stared out the window. His go-to move when he was furious. But he wouldn't blow up at me. I was his prized "pup," after all—not blood-related, but the prosecutor he'd groomed. I'd heard the Chief Prosecutor had singled me out at a managers' meeting, calling me a "gem" and telling Hwang to nurture me well. And when he made Chief, the big cases I'd handled under him became his shining achievements.
If his star pupil slipped away, that'd be trouble. Plus, all the dirt he'd spilled to me—if I blabbed, his image as the upstanding, rational team leader would crumble in seconds. He had plenty of reasons to play nice.
"Let's grab a drink later. Clear your schedule."
He seemed to cool down, turning to me.
Drink with Hwang Youngchan? I'd sooner drink with that suspect who'd called me "Prosecutor sir" earlier.
"Sorry, sir. I have plans."
"……."
"Nothing else? I'll get back to work then."
"Yeah. Go."
He waved me off with a sour face. As I shut the door, I heard something shatter inside. Guess he was always this authoritarian. Smashing things over a junior's attitude—pathetic.
Should've lived a straighter life, huh?
Bzzz—
I headed to the smoking area for a quick cig before going back, when a text pinged in.
I stared at the sender's name for a long while. I'd lied to Team Leader Oh about prior plans because my emotions were still a mess, but damn if they weren't real. With Dongjin, no less.
Right... at this time... Dongjin was still alive.
I smiled bitterly and texted back Got it.
"Aigoo, Prosecutor! Long time no see."
Daebak House. Started as a tiny spot with barely five tables, now a decent-sized pork belly joint. Our fixed spot with Yang Dongjin. The owner knew our names by heart from all our visits.
"Hello. Business looks good as always."
"You bet. Heh. If every day was like today, I'd have no regrets."
He puffed his cig in the smoking area, answering quick.
Daebak House closed in 2014. Not for lack of business—this place was too damn good for that.
"Come on in. Your friend's waiting."
"Owner."
"Yes?"
"Don't trust your sons too much. Don't give them everything."
The guy poured his life savings into covering their failed businesses. Ended up selling even Daebak House.
Made me pity him.
"What're you talking about?"
"Just a case I heard at the office today. Got me worried for you."
"Heh. Sigh. You're the only one who worries about me, Prosecutor. If only my boys were half as upright as you. These days, I envy your parents most."
I gave a wry smile.
"Hey, Cha Prosecutor! Over here!"
Yang Dongjin, in his red apron, waved at me.
"Saw you on the news with that Jo Jintae case. Haha. Bragged about it at work—said my friend's the prosecutor who nabbed him."
Yang Dongjin was, as of 2008, my one and only friend.
"Oh, right. Mom knows someone with an apple orchard down south. Said he'd send a box. Want one?"
"Nah. Don't go home much anyway."
"Stick it in the office fridge."
"No time to even peel 'em."
"You can't brew tonics, but fruit's a must. We're not in our twenties anymore. Forties are right around the corner—you're already thirty-four."
"Yeah."
Dongjin, the university hospital doc, and I were both swamped, so meetings were rare. But like old friends, it never felt awkward even after ages apart.
Dongjin hadn't changed. I had.
"Eat up before it burns."
He plopped perfectly grilled belly onto my scallion salad with tongs.
"I got it."
"What's with you today? Acting all weird. Pissed at me?"
His instincts were always sharp. My awkwardness stemmed from guilt.
In my past life, I'd turned my knee-begging friend away.
"Nah, just got a lot on my mind."
"Why? Something up?"
"I'm resigning."
"What?!"
Crash! Dongjin jumped up, chair toppling. All eyes turned our way, but he didn't care.
"You nuts? Resigning already? Have you lost it?"
"Calm down, man. Sit."
"You, clinging to the prosecutors' office till they kick you to the old folks' home—what bullshit is this?"
To take down Wooshin as a prosecutor, I had work to do. Like making myself spotless. Couldn't risk any leverage later.
"That's how it is."
That included ignoring Dongjin's tearful pleas. Helping him might become a weakness down the line.
To live as the Wooshin Sniper, I lost many: wife, friends, colleagues... Fine, divorce was inevitable. But Dongjin was different. Abandoned by his last friend—me—he ended up...
He hanged himself. I'd ignored my childhood friend reaching out from the brink. Now, back in a past where nothing had happened yet, I faced him alive. Like a warning not to repeat the mistake.
"What's the situation?"
"Tell you later. Still sorting my thoughts."
"Ugh, you punk."
"When I open my law office, send me anyone you know who needs help. And make sure to mention the prosecutor who caught Jo Jintae a few days back."
"You got it, bastard. I'll even send flowers. Discount me heavy if I show up later."
"Better if you never need to. That's ideal."
"Who knows. Might need you for a divorce."
"If your wife comes first, I'll rep her. Seems like she'd have the winning hand."
"You little shit. Talk like that between friends? Haha, psycho. Drink up."
We drank till my nose went numb. God, how long since I'd cut loose like this?
I'd avoided booze on purpose. Feared spilling Wooshin secrets drunk, or worse—getting kidnapped in a stupor.
"Man, you weren't like this—drinking till you can't stand?"
Dongjin propped me into the car. The guilt from years past made parting bittersweet.
He slammed the door and yelled at the driver to go. I mumbled my hazy remembered address and passed out.
"Sir, we're here."
"Ugh."
Hungover deep, I woke fully. Fumbled for my wallet, but glanced out the window and chuckled dryly.
"Driver, sorry—can you take me to Seocho-dong instead?"
"Pardon? You said Bangbae-dong."
"Moved recently. Must've given the old one drunk."
"Sigh. Extra fare, you know."
I'd blurted my 2018 Bangbae officetel address by reflex. Good thing I'd avoided drinking back then. Even this young body slipped up boozed—what would've happened older?
"Ugh."
Officetel hit, I collapsed on the sofa. Checked backlog texts on my phone.
Texted Dongjin back Yeah.
Taegwang Law Firm. Just the name furrowed my brow.
Taegwang was Korea's top firm, no contest. Bloated on corporate lawsuits, a legal behemoth. They'd courted me thrice. First after topping Judicial Research Institute—turned 'em down flat, eyes on prosecution. Then at year five, year seven.
This was the second timing, huh.
You bastards. Fine, I'll grace you with my face.
Taegwang handled Wooshin's suits. They'd run the Antrozol side-effect case tied to my father's death. And we'd butted heads bloody in the Wooshin chairman's slush fund trial.
Future foe, past enemy. Scoping their faces early? Solid warm-up.