“Good morning,” greeted Hyun-seong.
“Isn’t it only a good morning for yourself? It’s been a few days since I’ve seen your face, and you don’t even greet me properly?” complained Tae-jun.
“I called you like three times a day. Is a greeting really necessary?” Hyun-seong retorted.
“Anyway, you don’t say a word. Can’t you see I’m dying here?” Tae-jun moaned.
At 8:10 AM, Hyun-seong swung open the office door on the 25th floor. Inside, Tae-jun was sprawled on the sofa, legs extended as if it were his own personal room. While this behavior might be unimaginable for a typical secretary, Hyun-seong wasn’t one to take such matters lightly.
Seating himself at his desk, Hyun-seong glanced at Tae-jun, who lay on the sofa, after placing down his briefcase.
“You’ve lost weight. Did your cheeks get sunken?” he observed.
“I don’t know. I didn’t have time to check how many kilograms I lost. No, even though I ran around so much, my calves are still there… Attorney, I heard you’re giving out bonuses.”
“Hey, Secretary Kang. You’re earning a lot of money,” remarked Hyun-seong, rising from the sofa and standing in front of the desk. He pushed up his slipping glasses, revealing dark circles under his eyes—a testament to his recent busy schedule. Tae-jun handed the file holder, previously resting on Hyun-seong’s desk, to him.
“It’s good to make a lot of money. Can’t I ask for that much? Huh?” Tae-jun lamented.
“Do you need more salary when you earn as much as most senior lawyers?” Hyun-seong replied.
“Let’s have a meal on the weekend. I’ll be generous. Look at this. Attorney Kang Jin-won has really been up to no good. It’s not just one or two issues, and my body has suffered from handling all this alone, you know?” Tae-jun continued to grumble, airing his grievances.
Despite the ongoing complaints from Secretary Kang, Hyun-seong’s focus remained steadfast on the documents. Each page turned brought a natural furrowing of his forehead. From political lobbying to money laundering operations, even academic forgery, evidence of aiding tax evasion, and various crimes in the political and business sectors were exposed, all stemming from the information on Min-yeol’s USB.
When did it get to this extent… This was just what had been revealed; he couldn’t fathom how much more he might have missed. Even Kang Jin-won, shielded by powerful figures, would not easily escape if the Colosseum operation was added to this.
However, precision was crucial in connecting all the criminal facts. Casting the net carelessly might inadvertently cover up other major crimes. It wasn’t just Kang Jin-won; those associated with him in the political and business sectors needed to be apprehended.
“Oh, by the way… there’s an important message to deliver,” Tae-jun interjected, his expression turning noticeably serious. In the suddenly solemn atmosphere, Hyun-seong raised his head. Tae-jun appeared to be contemplating whether to disclose this information, wearing a thoughtful expression.
“What is it?” Hyun-seong pressed.
With a heavy exhale, Tae-jun handed over the thick document. “Take a look at the second-to-last page.”
On the page he referred to, a printed photo captured their attention. Running his fingertip over his forehead, Tae-jun’s face betrayed discomfort.
“The person on the right in the photo… He’s affiliated with Kang Jin-won. The painting he’s holding is Shim Chae-hyuk’s artwork, sold at an auction for 3.2 billion won last year.”
“And the person next to him?”
“Well… that’s the nephew of Chief Prosecutor Park In-seong.”
The photo depicted a man in his thirties receiving the painting with a tense expression. Hyun-seong’s expression hardened at the mention of Chief Prosecutor Park. Tae-jun continued his report.
“But that person has no reason to accept a 3.2 billion won painting as a bribe. He’s basically a beggar. He was fired from the company three years ago and has been unemployed since then.”
“What does that mean…”
“We need to investigate further to be sure, but it seems likely that Prosecutor Seo’s father is also involved in Kang Jin-won’s affairs.”
Hyun-seong seemed to understand why Tae-jun hesitated to report this. A painting worth 3.2 billion won, a gift in a price range that couldn’t be easily exchanged as a favor. Moreover, if the recipient is an unemployed person with no power, it becomes even more suspicious. They needed to ascertain whether the painting was actually handed over to Chief Prosecutor Park or not. The face of Yi-soo, who smiled while talking about her father, flashed through his mind.
His mouth felt bitter, and his heart grew heavier. Secretary Kang seemed to share the same sentiment. Tae-jun, fiddling with his glasses, took out his tablet to lighten the atmosphere.
“Leaving that aside, you have a meeting around 9 p.m. tonight. Don’t think about leaving early today,” informed Tae-jun.
“…Alright.”
“Well then, should I go out now to catch up on the backlog? Call me if you need anything.”
Rubbing his lower back, Tae-jun left the office. Hyun-seong, staring at the firmly closed door, turned on his phone. While typing a message to send to Yi-soo, he couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling.
[“I’ll be a bit late tonight due to a meeting. Go ahead and have dinner without me.”]
After pressing the send button, he leaned back against the chair, and a deep sigh escaped him.