After witnessing the horror in the Colosseum, Hyun-seong delved into his investigation with renewed determination. Focused on preventing further harm, he sought to unveil the truth expeditiously.
Instructing Tae-jun separately to identify the mastermind, Hyun-seong personally honed in on the details of his investigation.
The corruption uncovered was staggering in its scale, hinting at connections reaching into the realms of politics and business. Yoon Hyun-seong meticulously eliminated options one by one, narrowing down the pool to six remaining candidates. Among them, one figure emerged as the most plausible suspect.
In the midst of his deliberations, a polite knock resonated three times. “Attorney Yoon, it’s Kang Jin-won,” a voice announced.
“Come in,” Hyun-seong responded. The absence of Tae-jun left the secretary’s desk outside the door vacant. Upon entering, Jin-won stood before Hyun-seong, presenting a courteous smile. His impeccable appearance and refined demeanor, whether or not he changed his glasses, exuded an even smoother impression.
However, Hyun-seong remained keenly aware that beneath the polished exterior, Jin-won wore a carefully crafted mask designed to deceive. With a subtle sound, he leaned against the leather backrest, discreetly covering the documents on the table with a file.
“Why did you call me?” inquired Jin-won.
“What’s happening with the KL Airlines Park case?”
“If it’s that case, it’s progressing well. Most victims have signed settlement agreements. Surprisingly, they agreed more willingly than I anticipated. We just need to focus on the trial next week,” Jin-won responded with a cheerful smile.
Unfazed, Hyun-seong, staring sharply, uttered sharply, “Shin Min-yeol, your secretary. He’s dead.”
“Oh, I see.”
“You knew, didn’t you?”
“Yes. There’s talk within Yoon & Kang that a lawyer who doesn’t know about Shin’s death is hard to find. It’s really unfortunate.”
Even though a colleague he had worked with for years had passed away, Jin-won didn’t display any signs of sorrow. He maintained an indifferent expression, as if it were the death of someone he didn’t know.
Hyun-seong’s gaze intensified, fixating without a blink on the man before him.
He’s still like a venomous snake.
Their intricate connection had roots extending far beyond their legal careers, forged during the lengthy prelude to becoming lawyers. As the son of the CEO and the son of the vice-president, an unusual bond had naturally woven itself between them long before the blood on their heads had dried.
This history allowed Hyun-seong to penetrate beyond the facade, discerning the true nature of Jin-won that eluded others. Even in childhood, Jin-won appeared outwardly kind and polite, yet an underlying chill pervaded his demeanor. It seemed he struggled to authentically connect with common emotions, resorting to meticulous mimicry.
Despite his flawless imitation, almost no one noticed the subtle distinctions—except Hyun-seong. The first glimpse Yoon Hyun-seong caught of Jin-won’s genuine self was at the tender age of 13.
〈…What are you doing right now?〉
〈Oh, this? Um… What should I say?〉
Jin-won, then a head shorter than Hyun-seong, vigorously shook the rock clutched in his hand. The sharp end of the rock bore the impression of butterfly wings.
In a disturbing tableau, the boy was engaged in the act of ending the life of a delicate white butterfly. Repeatedly struck against the unforgiving rock, the tiny creature was mercilessly torn apart, its original form nearly obliterated.
Despite the grim scene, the young Jin-won wore an expression of indifference. In fact, a faint smile even graced his face, adding an unsettling contrast to the brutality unfolding before them.
〈Haven’t you ever killed an insect, Hyung?〉
〈I don’t kill them like that. Isn’t it pitiful?〉
〈Pitiful? But… these bugs are meant to be killed, right?〉
The notion emanating from an eleven-year-old was far from what one might anticipate. Jin-won tilted his head, wearing an excessively innocent expression, as if he had no cause to perceive the deceased butterfly’s plight.
Young Hyun-seong involuntarily furrowed his brows, confronted by a disconcerting purity that bordered on chilling malevolence. It was an encounter with a darkness that belied the innocence of youth.
〈Hyung, do you think it’s a bad thing to kill a life weaker than oneself?〉
〈…What?〉
〈When it died… its wings fluttered. So, I tore its wings apart first, and it seemed to have given up on life or stopped moving. Seeing that, it felt a bit pathetic. It would have been better if it struggled a bit more.〉
Jin-won mumbled something indistinct, a soliloquy perhaps, and, as if shaking off something unclean, dropped the rock with a thud, forming a tight line with his lips.
〈I’ll see you later, Hyung. Let’s meet at the evening gathering.〉
With brisk steps, the boy moved away. The image of his retreating figure lingered vividly in Hyun-seong’s memory, an indelible and startling recollection from over two decades ago.
Emerging from that distant moment, Hyun-seong now held a sleek fountain pen. In a composed tone, he posed a question, “Recently, your working hours seem to have become earlier. Is there not much work?”