“This is a medical report from the hospital that treated Jung Yongjin. It says the two bullets extracted were different. The bullet that seems to have flown in from behind and lodged is unidentifiable, so let’s consider it an accident. But one was lodged in the thigh, and judging by the direction of the ruptured muscle, it appears to have been fired from above while he was kneeling.”
“That’s terrible if it’s true.”
Sa Kangjun frowned like a citizen hearing about a horrific crime on the news. However, none of those watching would have felt his concern was genuine.
“We’re treating this case not as an accident, but as murder.”
“Surely not because of this medical report?”
Kangjun slowly shook his head and let out a hollow laugh. Like someone who had run out of words after hearing an absurd conspiracy theory.
“The doctor at that hospital said he saw the bullet. B.T00. Isn’t that a bullet from Eunrok made by Bantech?”
“The number 00 is included in all weapons made in the year Bantech was founded. And I’m curious which doctor saw this. Both bullets I received from the surgeon were covered in blood and nothing was visible.”
“…”
“Of course, those were incinerated.”
Kangjun lightly tapped the desk with his fingertips and lifted his chin. A faint smile spread across his slanted eyes. As if mocking, saying the bullets were in his hands, so why tell such a flimsy lie? The prosecutor glared at Kangjun but, unable to recover his wounded pride, changed the subject.
“Assistant Manager Jung Yongjin didn’t leave work the day before he died. Where were you at that time?”
“I was at home. As you probably already know from your investigation, there was even a woman who came to my house then?”
Despite the tightly woven trap closing around his neck, Kangjun remained completely composed. His answers and attitude were so natural that there seemed no opening to press him further. “Ah, fuck.” Park Haesik, who had been watching, muttered as if feeling defeated.
There had been a woman. Seoyoung was taken aback by this unexpected fact. He had seemed so emotionally self-contained that it was strange to think someone else was filling that space.
No, maybe this makes sense. It would be stranger for such a perfect man to be without a woman. As if this was already known information, the investigator changed the subject.
“Did you know that Jung Yongjin had traces of contact with weapons brokers from China and the US?”
“Did he? That’s surprising.”
“Ha! You’re saying you didn’t know?”
In response to the prosecutor’s question, Sa Kangjun merely shrugged. The prosecutor’s jaw tensed rigidly as if suppressing anger.
“What was Jung Yongjin developing?”
“I cannot confirm that for you.”
“Do you think I’m joking around here?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
Sa Kangjun’s eyes changed. His relaxed expression suddenly sharpened. His tone remained the same, but the atmosphere shifted mercilessly.
The prosecutor’s fingertips instinctively flinched. The air around those watching also instantly grew cold. Feeling the hairs on her body stand on end, Seoyoung crossed her arms to retain warmth. Manipulating at will. Sa Kangjun smiled again, softening the atmosphere he had just frozen.
“It’s fine to conduct a preliminary investigation if circumstances are suspicious, but it’s problematic to summon me for questioning without clear evidence.”
“…”
“You know that according to confidentiality provisions, information can only be provided through official Ministry of Defense channels. Despite that, I came here to cooperate, but this feels like…”
“…”
“…a targeted investigation.”
The moment those words ended, a silent shock pressed down on the space. It was as if the weapons company CEO had detonated a bomb in the center of the interrogation room. It was clear without saying which side would be in trouble if Sa Kangjun truly challenged the legitimacy of the investigation.
In the end, the side that had been pushed back offered an apology first.
“If you’ve taken offense, I apologize. It was just a procedure that required confirmation.”
“I was almost offended, but I understand, so I’ll answer.”
“…”
“So, you want to ask if I knew Jung Yongjin was trying to leak technology and killed him for it, right?”
As if soothing the prosecutor whose momentum had been broken, Kangjun smiled generously. The prosecutor, who had seemed almost resigned, quickly met his eyes.
“I didn’t kill him. Why would I bestow such mercy?”
“…!”
Seoyoung froze at the kind yet wicked response. The breath she had sharply inhaled caught in her throat. The prosecutor handling the case could only blink, speechless. “Crazy bastard,” she heard Park Haesik mutter. Having completely shattered the atmosphere on both sides, Kangjun tilted his lips again.
“Let’s wrap this up now, Prosecutor. The secretary I’ve worked hard to recruit might get scared and run away, which would be troublesome.”
“Is there… something for your secretary to be scared of?”
“She’s Gen Z.”
Sa Kangjun’s eyes curved pleasantly.
“I hear they run away without even submitting a resignation when they get disillusioned.”
He lifted his chin as if thoroughly enjoying this moment.
***
“So damn full of himself!”
Park Haesik turned off the screen and slumped into his chair. His one short sentence revealed anger he couldn’t swallow. The man sitting in the corner of the desk was just rubbing his temples with his eyes closed.
“Starting a new secretary’s first field trip at the prosecutor’s office—your company’s curriculum is quite intense, isn’t it?”
Park Haesik spoke to Seoyoung in a subtly mocking tone. She lowered her gaze without responding. A vague pain swept through her as her stomach twisted with tension that wouldn’t subside. Though she had only overheard a brief conversation, she had grasped the general circumstances of the case. She had thought her company life might not be ordinary, but she hadn’t expected to be crossing into such a boundary-crossing world. If it had been a clear accident, she could accept it, but murder was a different matter. Sa Kangjun, who created and controlled this entire situation, was more dangerous than she had thought.
“Why did you bring me here?”
Suppressing the confusion in her mind for now, Seoyoung asked Park Haesik.
“Ms. Yoo Seoyoung, how much do you know about Bantech? About CEO Sa Kangjun?”
“I know everything that’s publicly available.”
“That means you know almost nothing. That place has more hidden than revealed.”
Park Haesik handed her a file with a sardonic smile. Seoyoung slowly raised her hand and opened the first page of the file. Along with the name “Jung Yongjin,” it contained an autopsy report. Not wanting to read it, Seoyoung closed the file and looked at Park Haesik.
“He was a Bantech technology development team employee who died a few days ago. Officially an accidental death, but it was processed quickly and cleanly.”
“…”
“Because they perfectly submitted all documents including the death report, the investigation couldn’t be redirected. The police couldn’t even get involved due to military confidentiality, and the press couldn’t approach it at all. The bereaved family quietly kept their mouths shut—who knows how much they were paid—and quickly cremated the body.”
“Then there shouldn’t be any problems.”
“The problem is that there’s no problem when there should be.”
“This is all new to me. Today is my first day at work…”
“I know. That’s why I called you. Before you get too tainted.”
“Tainted?”
“I’d like you to help us a bit, Ms. Yoo Seoyoung.”
“What could I…”
As Seoyoung was about to ask in confusion, Park Haesik’s phone vibrated, breaking the tense atmosphere. After looking at the name on the screen, he frowned, turned away, and answered the call.
“Yes, Chief Prosecutor.”
Despite his irritated expression, his voice was respectful.
“Yes. It’s in progress now. Yes. What?”
Park Haesik’s voice jumped sharply. But the even angrier voice of the person on the other end carried clearly beyond the phone.
“You bastard, didn’t I tell you not to mess with military personnel? Do you know who just called me, you son of a bitch? Why are you stirring up a closed case and making me look like shit? Release him immediately!”
“Yes, I understand.”
Park Haesik hung up with a hardened face. The man who had been sitting in the corner of the table quietly stood up. As if he had expected this, he silently patted Park Haesik’s shoulder and left, opening the door. Park Haesik, who had been breathing heavily with his hands on his waist, belatedly turned around.
“Ms. Yoo Seoyoung, forget what I just said.”
“Pardon?”
“I said go. I’m fuming.”
He roughly flung open the observation room door.
***
“Was it boring?”
The moment they stepped outside the building, Kangjun asked Seoyoung.
“No. I’m glad it ended quickly.”
Despite Seoyoung’s frightened time, Sa Kangjun left the prosecutor’s office as if nothing had happened.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
