BITM Ch25
by soapaShe sat across from Han Seongwon.
“You saw Naeyung recently, didn’t you? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? I’ve been waiting to see when you’d tell me, but it seems you weren’t planning to say anything until the end.”
“Did you put someone on me?”
When Han Seongwon reached for the bread, she slapped his hand away.
“You used the card. Near Naeyung’s hospital, no less.”
“Looks like a text was sent.”
Han Seongwon nodded reluctantly.
“Just as you said, after meeting Naeyung, I had a cup of coffee alone.”
“Isn’t this petty? You glare at me with eyes like a goblin when I say I’ll go, but what harm would it do if we went together? Why are you so cold when all I want is to see our son’s face?”
Han Seongwon just smiled quietly. Ignorance is bliss. He had no intention of ever telling his wife about Han Naeyung’s past. That was best for everyone.
“Why are you smiling? It’s making me lose my affection for you. You’re home, so I nag you. Why don’t you stop lounging around and open a law office?”
“It’s not the right time yet.”
“There’s a right time for work?”
“There is.”
He took a sip of his coffee.
“I’d like to relax until the day I die.”
“How could someone who was once a workaholic change like this? I don’t know, just enjoy being an old unemployed man.”
She took the tray back, leaving only one lemon scone. Han Seongwon split the warm scone in half. He only cleared the newspaper after hearing the front door close.
It was a report that came in every three months to the former chief judge. Han Seongwon knew the current status and whereabouts of everyone related to a case from 20 years ago. Except for one person, Jang Seongjun, one of the main perpetrators, whose whereabouts remained unknown. Jang Seongjun had served time for prostitution and then another five years for attempted murder. After that, he seemed to be wandering from place to place.
“Lee Kyungchull is dead… and so is Song Iljae.”
Han Seongwon put on his reading glasses. Jang Seongjun’s case of attempted murder was significantly influenced by self-defense. The victim, stabbed by Jang Seongjun, was a mid-level gang member who had tried to kill Jang Seongjun as an example after he tried to leave the gang. However, the gang member lost his life in the process. Jang Seongjun also lost a finger in the incident.
“Jang Seongjun.”
Han Seongwon wrote the name on a paper where he had organized the case details.
A corpse with its tongue cut out, murder using animal euthanasia drugs… This wasn’t just a fight among thugs. Han Seongwon connected all the lines to one point.
The final point was Han Naeyung.
He dropped his pen. He wanted to believe it wasn’t true. That it was all just a coincidence and had nothing to do with his son, Han Naeyung.
Han Seongwon desperately hoped he wouldn’t have to step forward again. If Han Naeyung had sought revenge, there was only one thing he could do. He had to defend Jung Woomin, whom he couldn’t protect that day.
Despite his former disdain for preferential treatment, he now found it a relief. Life was full of contradictions. He had to save him, no matter how dirty the means.
To make someone who killed a deserving person pay for it was too harsh. As a judge who had maintained his principles, Han Seongwon had set aside his heavy robe to become an ordinary parent. He was determined to protect his child.
***
Organizing was both the beginning and the end.
Han Naeyung neatly hung his winter coat and sweater in the wardrobe and pulled down his mask. The warm sunlight and the mild air coming through the window signaled the arrival of spring.
It was the season of beginnings. Perhaps it would be the last season he would see from this place. Han Naeyung approached the window.
When he was very young, he would lie in the orphanage yard on days like this, rolling around with Jaemin while his older brother looked down at them affectionately. They were happy with just the three of them.
Not wanting parents who would tear them apart, he nodded when Jaemin suggested running away. At just nine years old, he couldn’t have had the knowledge to think deeply about it.
Impulsively, they climbed over the orphanage wall, and from then on, it was a real hell. While confined in a cage, Jaemin asked,
“What happened to Hyung? Did he come here too?”
Woomin covered Jaemin’s mouth.
“Never speak about it. If they find out we were with him, they’ll bring him here too.”
The child was scared. He feared that mentioning their brother would lead to his capture.
One day, he thought,
‘How nice it would be if Hyung were here too. Then Jaemin and I could rely on him.’
Even at a young age, he knew how shameless that thought was. So, he decided to forget. Thinking about it made him cry and sadder.
He kept telling himself to forget, and eventually, he couldn’t even remember his face clearly. Only the memory of his sweet smile and the smell of candy remained. Standing by the window, Han Naeyung lowered his head as the bright light dazzled his eyes.
There was one medicine bottle on the table. Jin had taken one, but he wasn’t afraid of being caught. Once everything ended, Jin might lead him to justice. Before stepping onto Dike’s scales…
Han Naeyung gripped his phone tightly. He had loved him like they did. He had let him savor the skin of others, which he couldn’t touch comfortably until death. Recalling his excessively warm touch made his eyes hot. His uncontrollable hand reached for his voice.
Don’t answer. He told himself.
“It got through.”
Jin, who answered the phone, spoke with a slightly rough voice.
“I was just thinking about wanting to hear your voice, and then you called. What a surprise.”
Honk. The car horn blared.
“Are you in the car?”
“Yes, I’m on my way back from somewhere.”
“Then let’s talk later.”
“Don’t hang up. You called because you had something to say, right?”
He didn’t call because he had something to say. He just wanted to hear his voice.
“I just… wanted to hear your voice…”
Jin’s embarrassment was palpable. Clearing his throat, he asked,
“Did you stay home again today?”
“Yes.”
“Staying home all day without opening the clinic.”
“It’s a vacation.”
A very long vacation.
“Will you see me before your vacation ends?”
“…”
Han Naeyung stared blankly at the medicine bottle and said,
“I’ll call you again.”
He hung up first and held his phone in both hands. Then, he collapsed onto the bed.
Unable to sleep due to persistent insomnia, he didn’t fall asleep last night either. He didn’t go to get a prescription for sleeping pills and just lay there, eyes wide open, waiting for sleep to come.
The first time he fell asleep in his arms, he thought it was because of the alcohol. But the second time, he realized that his warmth erased even his insomnia.
Han Naeyung knew better than anyone the cause of his insomnia. He was afraid of falling asleep alone. His tired eyes gradually began to close.
As if waiting, memories from the past started to creep up his body. People with terrifying smells, mold-filled rooms, a thin blade, Jaemin’s screams… Han Naeyung, and Jung Woo-min, curled up tightly.
He fervently hoped that he wouldn’t dream today, and even if he did, he wished it would be a forgettable dream, not a horrible nightmare.
***
“We usually don’t reveal this information, but since you brought a warrant, I’ll show you just this once.”
Jin fabricated an incident to find the adoption records at the child center. Everything was anonymized, and it took a lot of effort to find out the address of the adoptive family.
It was a high-end residential complex that he had heard of several times. Jin headed straight to the apartment, but the person living there was a tenant. It was only after showing his prosecutor’s badge to the cautious tenant that Jin could get some information.
The landlord had moved to the outskirts of the city a few years ago after leasing the place. Jin, who got the address, was late for work due to his ringing phone, and he had to endure a scolding from the senior prosecutor for an hour.
He wanted to visit before or after work, but his workload and a cooled head made him hesitate about meeting Woo-min. He hoped he was doing well. Even if he had been adopted by a wealthy family, it didn’t erase the pain Woo-min had experienced.
Jin left the prosecutor’s office at 1 AM. By now, he was so used to his commute that he drove towards Han Naeyung’s veterinary clinic. He slowed down in front of the clinic and looked up at the second floor.
The lights were off today as well. He had someone report Han Naeyung’s whereabouts from 9 AM to 7 PM. The report always ended with him not stepping out even once.
Jin put out his cigarette and rolled down the window. The night air felt acrid due to the fine dust. Despite the warm weather, the early morning retained traces of winter.
Jin frowned as he was about to roll up the window. Someone wearing just a shirt and pants was stumbling barefoot ahead. They might be drunk, considering the time, but something felt off.
Jin drove closer to the staggering figure. As soon as he confirmed the face, he jumped out of the car.
“Han Naeyung!”
Honk! The horn from behind drowned out Jin’s voice. He ran and grabbed Han Naeyung’s arm, who didn’t turn around. Something fell from Han Naeyung’s pocket as his hand came out. A sharp, silver object bounced on the ground.
This… Han Naeyung shouldn’t have this. It wasn’t something to carry around in the dead of night. Jin quickly put the scalpel in his pocket. He grabbed the bewildered Han Naeyung by the shoulders.
“Dr. Han.”
Han Naeyung’s unfocused gaze lowered languidly. Jin caressed his cold cheek, urging him to snap out of it.
“Look at me, Dr. Han.”
Blood oozed thinly from Han Naeyung’s foot, possibly from stepping on glass. Jin grimaced and made Han Naeyung look at him. Han Naeyung, like someone waking from a dream, looked around in confusion. Finally, he focused on the person holding him. His blank, blurry eyes gradually regained clarity.
In a puzzled voice, Han Naeyung murmured,
“Prosecutor Jin…?”
And then he collapsed.
***
Why is he so light? I wonder if he even has all his organs inside.
Jin thought as he adjusted Han Naeyung, who he was carrying on his back. Entering after punching in the password with one hand, Nari, the dog, circled the entrance, panting.
Nari’s eyes widened upon seeing Han Naeyung on Jin’s back. Already narrow eyes looked even more grotesque when widened. Jin gently laid Han Naeyung on the bed. He quickly brought a wet towel and a medicine box and sat at the edge of the bed.
Despite being stabbed by glass, Han Naeyung had continued to walk, with pieces embedded in his foot. Jin glanced at Han Naeyung before removing the blunt pieces with tweezers. He cleaned the foot and poured disinfectant, causing a groan.
The pained voice came not from Han Naeyung, but from Nari.
Jin patted Nari, who was resting her chin beside Han Naeyung. After applying ointment to the wound, he wrapped Han Naeyung’s foot in a bandage. Only after finishing the first aid did he take a belated breath.
Is he sleepwalking? Jin thought of the scalpel in the coat pocket. Even if he is sleepwalking, carrying something like that… Jin looked at Han Naeyung’s exhausted face.
“Why… why are you doing this? What’s causing this?”
He muttered, brushing back the black hair that covered Han Naeyung’s forehead. At that moment, Han Naeyung, wrapped in a blanket, slowly opened his eyes.
“Are you awake?”
In response to Jin’s question, Han Naeyung curled up. Then he spoke softly.
“My back… it hurts.”
His eyes still looked hazy. Jin slid his hand under the blanket and gently rubbed Han Naeyung’s back. Han Naeyung blinked and looked at Jin. Then, he smiled bashfully like a child.
“It smells nice…”
Jin had seen that endearingly sweet smile before. His hand, which was stroking Han Naeyung’s back, tightened. He pressed his forehead against Han Naeyung’s. He wanted to wake him up and ask what that scalpel was for, if he intended to harm someone. No, he just wanted to hear that it was all his imagination.
The simplest answer is usually the correct one.
Why did that phrase come to mind now? It was a fundamental principle of criminal investigation he had heard repeatedly since his training days. Every time his instincts tingled, an incident would follow. It was almost like a sixth sense.
He always thought that the signals he felt around Han Naeyung were because he liked him. He had also experienced the tsunami of consequences from disregarding a potential issue during the late Yoo Ji-hyung case.
Jin pulled his face away and looked at Han Naeyung. His long eyelashes were wet. As Jin gently stroked Han Naeyung’s eye area with his fingertip, he stood up from the bed. He took the scalpel from the coat pocket and put it in the empty drawer on the desk. Then he picked up his phone and began composing a message.
***
[As soon as you get to work, send me all records related to Han Naeyung from the database. I don’t know his ID number, so you’ll need to search by his address.]
Jin sent the message to Sun Wookjae. Wookjae replied almost immediately, indicating he was still awake.
[Prosecutor, you know that accessing records not related to a case could be problematic.]
It doesn’t matter.
Jin replied promptly as well. He put his phone back in his pocket and approached Han Naeyung. He didn’t move Nari, who was resting on Han Naeyung’s chest, and stroked Han Naeyung’s cheek.
…don’t let my sense of justice turn into you.
Jin sighed.
***
I have to kill him now. I want to be at peace.
As tears filled his bloodshot eyes, Han Naeyung snapped awake. His heart pounded. He recognized the white wallpaper on the ceiling and the built-in wardrobe.
Looking down at the gray blanket, Han Naeyung saw Jin sitting on a chair beside the bed. As Han Naeyung sat up, the blanket rustled. Woof. Nari barked once. Jin, who had been dozing with his arms crossed, opened his eyes.
“Why… am I here?”
Jin reached for the mug on the table. He handed the mug filled with water to Han Naeyung and asked,
“Don’t you remember?”
“…”
Unable to withstand the persistent insomnia, he had eventually fallen asleep and had a dream. That dreadful time… He had been punished for vomiting, and Jaemin had screamed at the sight of a blade scratching his back.
Don’t cry. It’s okay. Your brother doesn’t hurt at all. Han Naeyung had tried to comfort Jaemin, but it wasn’t true. It hurt so much he wanted to die. He wanted to kill him out of sheer agony. As soon as he woke up, he thought,
‘I have to kill him now. I want to be at peace.’
That was the last memory he had.
“Did I… come to see you?”
Jin silently looked at the confused Han Naeyung. His eyes were red, like someone who hadn’t slept at all.
“Do you have somnambulism?”
Jin tried to speak nonchalantly. It was an expression he always used, but his face wasn’t cooperating.
“…No.”
He often had nightmares, but it was the first time he had woken up somewhere else. Had he developed a new illness? Han Naeyung gripped the blanket tightly.
“When you’re living your life…”
Jin chose his words carefully.
“There are many times when emotions override reason. There isn’t a person in this world who has never felt homicidal intent towards someone at least once. Sometimes it’s over very trivial things.”
Han Naeyung anxiously watched Jin, who spoke calmly. It was because of the word ‘homicidal intent’ that had slipped from his mouth.
Jin continued, seeing Han Naeyung’s unease.
“You might wish for the sudden death of a bully so you don’t have to go to school tomorrow, or hope that the boss who torments you gets hit by a car and dies. Sometimes you might even wish that all the people who discriminate with double standards would just disappear. Do you know what all these thoughts have in common?”
“…”
“It’s not about directly killing the person yourself. You’re wishing for them to die in an accident, without dirtying your own hands. That way, even if you feel a bit guilty, there wouldn’t be any legal issues. You’d just think it was the end of their life… But you.”
Jin’s gaze turned towards the drawer. He pressed his lips together for a moment, remaining silent about the scalpel.
“Stay here from now on.”
Jin held Han Naeyung’s hand.
“Don’t go anywhere, stay here.”
He spoke desperately, like someone seeking confirmation. Questions about why he was here and why Jin seemed to know everything about his feelings floated unanswered in Han Naeyung’s mind.
“Prosecutor.”
Jin, with his head bowed, gripped Han Naeyung’s hand tightly. Han Naeyung stared at him in astonishment.
‘Did I really come here and confess everything myself?’
No matter how much he tried to recall the previous day, his memory was blank, like a severed film.
“Han Saem, tell me honestly. Is there anything you want to say to me?”
Jin’s black pupils wavered. Han Naeyung didn’t want to see him suffering, especially if it was because of him.
The silly jokes and stubborn smiles when they first met suited him best. But he had caused Jin pain.
“Is there really nothing?”
Despite the continued questioning, Han Naeyung remained silent. He had a lot to say. No, there were even more things he hadn’t been able to say. Before it was too late, he wanted to explain why Jin was the only one who mattered.
He should have been cold and cut him off for Jin’s sake, but he couldn’t. Han Naeyung looked down at their joined hands and murmured. The breath he had been holding back flowed out weakly.
“I like you.”
Jin raised his head.
“I’ve come to… like you.”
Jin’s face was a mix of torment and joy. He looked like he might cry. Jin pulled Han Naeyung into a tight embrace.
“You won’t leave, right? You’ll stay here?”
“I… will.”
Han Naeyung answered quietly. Jin’s face, as he approached slowly, cast a shadow. Han Naeyung closed his eyes and took a breath. Jin’s lips hovered carefully before pressing against his.
The rough, chapped lips and the slightly rough tongue felt strangely soft. Han Naeyung tentatively licked Jin’s lips. As he sucked on Jin’s lower lip like rolling candy, Jin tightened his embrace.
Han Naeyung heard Jin’s phone ring and tried to speak, but Jin’s lips silenced him. Han Naeyung finally pulled away, indicating the vibrating phone.
“You’re getting a call.”
“Let it ring.”
Jin gave him a light kiss, like a child’s peck.
“Answer it.”
Only on the third ring did Jin pull away.
Han Naeyung looked up at Jin, folding his moist lips inward. Jin gave a wry smile. The phone was still ringing insistently.
“What time is it?”
“A little past ten.”
“You need to go to work.”
Han Naeyung tried to get up but sat back down due to the intense pain in his foot. Heat radiated from his bandaged foot.
“You looked so cold, I brought you to my place. You didn’t even notice you were hurt.”
“…”
Han Naeyung stared at the white bandage. Was he finally going mad? It was a wonder he hadn’t gone mad sooner. Han Naeyung stiffened his lips, trying to maintain a neutral expression. When he looked up at Jin, who was watching him with concern, his face was fortunately calm.
“I should… get some counseling.”
“Promise me.”
“Yes.”
Jin handed Han Naeyung his personal phone.
“I’ll call you, so make sure to answer.”
Han Naeyung nodded.
“Get some more sleep. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
Jin pulled the gray blanket over the reclining Han Naeyung. Feeling it wasn’t enough, he picked up Nari, who was lying dejectedly at the foot of the bed, and placed her on Han Naeyung’s chest. Han Naeyung closed his eyes, holding Nari. Nari, eyes open, fixed her gaze on Han Naeyung’s face. Watch him well, Jin muttered, stroking Nari’s head.
After showering, Jin returned to the bedroom silently. Han Naeyung’s eyelids remained tightly closed. Jin watched him for a while before dressing in his suit. The rustle of the fabric sounded unusually loud.
His phone showed ten missed calls and three text messages. The chief prosecutor had instructed him to come to his office first thing. Jin straightened the crumpled blanket to ensure Han Naeyung was comfortable, then adjusted his tie.
Only after leaving the front door did he call Sun Wookjae.
“Prosecutor, where are you? I was so worried when you didn’t answer your phone.”
“I’m on my way now.”
Jin stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the basement.
“I thought something had happened.”
“I overslept a bit. Also, change the previous request to 24-hour surveillance. Han Naeyung is at my place now, so if he leaves, notify me directly.”
“Understood. But you need to come in as soon as possible. We’ve identified a suspect in the Ogori case.”
Jin saw a flicker of unease in his reflection in the elevator mirror.
“I’m on my way.”
***
Jin switched his phone to silent mode before reaching the chief prosecutor’s office. He knocked and opened the door, ready to avoid any potential scolding.
“Ah, of course. I understand. Absolutely.”
The chief, who was on the phone, raised his hand as if to signal that Jin should wait a moment.
“Yes. Right. I understand that we can’t devote ourselves solely to cases when we’re already busy. Just trust me.”
The chief, who kept repeating the phrase “just trust me” like a parrot, finally hung up the phone after a long while. He pointed to the leather sofa and stood up from his desk.
“Have a seat.”
“I’m late.”
Jin greeted him with a bow and then sat on the sofa.
“The reason I called you here is nothing special.”
The chief poured some green tea and handed a cup to Jin. Jin wondered what kind of situation had made this sly man behave in such an uncharacteristic way.
“You know how much I value you, right? I know how hard you work, even staying up late to get things done.”
The chief wiped the sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief.
“Thank you.”
Jin replied flatly.
“So, regarding the cases you’re investigating, let’s wrap up the Lee Kyungchull case as Song Iljae’s doing, and let’s handle Song Iljae’s case smoothly.”
Jin raised an eyebrow.
“Are you telling me to hurry up and arrest the suspect now that we’ve narrowed it down?”
Jin knew that wasn’t what the chief meant.
“No, that’s not what I mean. Technically, he’s a suspect, not a confirmed culprit, right? I saw that CCTV footage too, and it’s not strong enough to use in court. It’s basically a useless card. Just because someone stole euthanasia drugs from an animal shelter doesn’t mean they’re a murderer. We only have circumstantial evidence.”
The day the animal shelter reported the theft of drugs coincided with the time of Song Iljae’s death. The CCTV footage provided by Sun Wookjae showed a masked individual stealing drugs inside the shelter. The only visible feature was the wrinkled eyes, giving a rough idea of the age.
“The eyes look similar to those of a regular volunteer here. But that person wouldn’t do such a thing. They’re really a good person.”
The staff at the shelter all said the same thing.
“Why aren’t you responding?”
As the chief prosecutor said, it was only circumstantial evidence and it was hard to be sure the thief was the murderer.
“Besides, no one cares who killed Song Iljae. His family even abandoned him, calling him trash.”
The chief prosecutor, who ranked people, was showing his true colors. Only then did Jin open his mouth.
“Since when did you catch criminals based on their social status?”
“Yeah, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. But we’ve got hundreds of cases to handle every day, and we need to be efficient.”
“Are you telling me to classify it as an unsolved case?”
“Exactly! You’re my man. If you don’t step back from this case, I’ll have to assign it to someone else.”
Prosecutorial solidarity, Jin thought with a sneer. It wasn’t the first time a leading prosecutor was replaced. After all, the prosecution was just a servant of power. He wondered who was pressuring them this time.
“If I object, will I be demoted?”
“I don’t want to see you fall out of favor.”
That was clear enough. Jin emptied the half-filled cup of green tea. If he didn’t comply, the case would likely be transferred to another compliant prosecutor.
“I’ll handle it as you said.”
Jin hid his true feelings and smiled.
“See! You remind me so much of my younger self. The world has gotten so tough. You can’t even raise your voice without someone filing a complaint these days.”
There were all kinds of people in the world, and the prosecution was no exception. Jin only showed a forced smile at the chief’s backhanded compliment.
Leaving the chief’s office with his fervent encouragement, Jin’s eyes turned cold. He wondered who could be protecting Lee Kyungchull and Song Iljae. It would have to be someone with significant power, like a congressman or a judge… There was no way those men had such backing.
Jin leaned back in his chair after returning to his office.
“Did you get an earful?”
Sun Wookjae asked cautiously.
“I only got praised.”
“Really?”
It seemed like the chief had finally lost it. Sun Wookjae didn’t say it out loud, but Jin could almost hear his thoughts.
“We’re being told to bury the Song Iljae case.”
“What?!”
Both Sun Wookjae and Lee Innyeong exclaimed simultaneously.
“That’s how it is. We’ll look into it off the clock. For now, let’s handle other cases. By the way, what about the request I made?”
“Well, about that…”
Sun Wookjae got up from his seat and approached Jin. Although Lee Innyeong was uneasy about being told to bury the case, she focused on her work. Sun Wookjae leaned in close to Jin and lowered his voice.
“That person, we can’t find any information on them.”
Jin looked at him, puzzled.
“There’s a password on their file in the prosecution’s database. Could they be from the National Intelligence Service or the National Security Council?”
A veterinarian being a national agent? Sun Wookjae’s imagination was quite vivid, but it was a plausible situation. Jin couldn’t hide his frustration. He had said the man had many secrets, but he hadn’t expected this much.
Should he ask directly? But even if he did, it wasn’t likely Han Naeyung would open up. Jin’s mouth went dry at the thought of what might have happened if he hadn’t found Han Naeyung wandering the streets that dawn.
Today, no matter how much Han Naeyung tried to hide, Jin had to get answers. He didn’t want to interrogate him, but there was no choice. Jin steeled himself and opened his mouth.