“Your expression is confusing—do you have something to say or not? Shall I wait a bit longer?”
Jang Jin-woo watched Marvin’s wavering eyes, curious about his confusion. Unfortunately, Marvin’s mind, once the trigger had been pulled, was left in a haze of smoke.
Asking if he knew anything was the same as asking if there was anything he could tell him. There was nothing. If Jin-woo already suspected Marvin’s trait alteration, all the more so. Marvin resented headquarters’ decision all over again. Hiding like this had never been a solution.
“It doesn’t have to be today. If anything comes to mind, just let me know. Come to think of it, you’ll need to appear again on another matter, right? You can tell me then.”
He slowly pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to Marvin, as if prompting him to think it over. On the glossy blue card were his name, affiliation, and contact details.
“Oseong Branch Prosecutor’s Office, Criminal Division. Prosecutor Jang Jin-woo.”
Marvin stared at it, his emotions tangled. In a way, Jang Jin-woo was also a dispossessed lodger, but his situation was completely different. He was still part of the organization.
It made Marvin wonder whether no matter how hard he climbed, the difference in origin was insurmountable. Even as a hounded hunting dog, he’d always felt gratitude toward the state that recognized him and gave him a role… but now, human nature surfaced.
It felt unfair. He’d lost too much for a single mistake.
“Prosecutor, why do you do this work?”
Caught up in his own feelings, Marvin blurted out a philosophical question. Jang Jin-woo looked slightly surprised, then answered instinctively.
“Because it’s the thing I do best.”
“You must enjoy punishing others, then.”
“Well, I won’t deny it. I lack much sympathy for others, so I decided from the start that I couldn’t be a judge. And I have no hobby of defending strangers. A prosecutor should not care about others’ opinions. In that respect, it suits me.”
It was a reasonable analysis. He even self-rated as an unlikable person, so he seemed fairly self-aware.
Marvin gave a nod that seemed to acknowledge it, and Jang Jin-woo smiled lightly.
“Kim Ma-bin, does the job fit you?”
He spoke Korean well enough that anyone could tell “the job” didn’t refer to his current role. He meant Marvin’s true profession, past or present.
“Yes. I’m also pretty oblivious.”
That answer sprang from Marvin’s deepest self-esteem. It was an impulsive outburst: he no longer wanted to feign ignorance as an Omega hostess or manager.
I do a similar job to you, he thought. Even a self-deprecating remark about having no sense wouldn’t tarnish the noble cause. Knowing it was a disadvantage, he still couldn’t resist letting it slip once.
Jang Jin-woo nodded slightly.
“Well, being ‘oblivious’ can also mean lacking conviction. Everything depends on results. If you succeed, you’re steadfast; if you fail, you’re just a clueless fool who fell on his face.”
He offered a rueful smile, subtly referencing his own situation. For a moment, Marvin saw a thin, almost tenuous kinship between them—perhaps a trick Jin-woo planted, or a mere illusion.
But emotion is instantaneous and irreversible once revealed. Whatever the cause, the important thing was that Marvin had just glimpsed a human side to him for the first time.
“Has the autopsy result for Park Juseong come back? Did he manifest as an Omega?”
When Marvin showed interest in the case, Jang Jin-woo received it slowly, without any strain.
“Fortunately, no. Though his trait-factor ratio was high, he still registered as a Beta. It was a scam, in a way. We suspect he took the drug believing he’d manifest as an Omega. And his lover ran off because she felt guilty for encouraging him.”
“Has she been caught?”
“She’s wanted. Apparently she went down to Busan, but she’ll be picked up soon. You seem curious. Want me to tell you more?”
Marvin knew the offer wasn’t altruistic. Yet he craved the bait Jin-woo dangled like a host. He was curious.
At that time, Do-jin had three samples. One was given to Marvin; the others vanished with his death. The research data and synthesis schematics were taken by the Korean researchers who accompanied them. It was an unsatisfying conclusion.
“Do you know where the drug is coming from?”
“I understand it’s manufactured in Eastern Europe, routed through China. The supply on the market now is first-generation; there’s talk of a second-generation batch coming in. But it’s a gangster trade—lots of knock-offs. Still, the genuine article seems to exist.”
“Might be rumors spread to drive up the price.”
“Could be. Could be not. Anyway, first-generation supply is so cheap now it’s not profitable. Everyone’s desperate for second-generation, and this region is where the shipments land. They might have tested a few drops here—suppliers would want to see how the market responds. Whether it flows, how safely it flows, how much the price inflates. I smell something fishy. What do you think?”
In a short time, Jang Jin-woo had already grasped the core issue.
The problem was that the market for short-acting manifestants was so vast. Tackling it would be like arresting every prostitute in Korea. It could be done, but it would never end. The leisure pursuits of the powerful are hard to criminalize.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to refer this to the Supreme Prosecutors’ Office Narcotics Division?”
“Why? Do you think I can’t handle it alone?”
“Yes.”
At Marvin’s blunt reply, Jang Jin-woo smiled with regret.
“With help, it might be worth a try, no? At least part of the supply comes through here. I’d be cleaning up my jurisdiction. Others will handle their regions.”
“Admirable. Thanks to prosecutors like you, Korea still manages to function.”
Marvin offered hollow flattery and tried to back away. He didn’t know Jin-woo’s agenda, but he had no position to interfere. If Jin-woo unearthed anything, it’d be in the news—but Marvin didn’t hold out much hope. The prosecution wasn’t driven by right or wrong.
“Cynical response. I understand seeing me as unjust, but it stings to be seen as incompetent.”
“Not at all. I know you’re capable. I even looked you up online. I just wondered if you needed to go this far. If you’d said, ‘I want one big score to go back to Seoul,’ I might’ve found that more convincing.”
“That’s not entirely wrong. Living here is inconvenient.”
He gave a wry smile. That Jin-woo also felt out of place here made Marvin feel as if they both were Oseong residents now—or that his own inability to leave felt pitiful.
In any case, Jin-woo seemed determined to pursue this. He’d caught a decent fish in his wide-net approach. The question was whether he had the momentum to indict. He’d need solid evidence or circumstance; one dead hotel singer wasn’t enough. Hence his approach to Marvin. Marvin could only say, “Do your best.”
“If you have nothing else to say, may I go?”
An hour had already passed. Marvin hadn’t provided any testimony useful to the case, but it didn’t seem that was Jin-woo’s real purpose. He’d probed enough.
“Be my guest.”
With that permission, Marvin rose, clutching the business card. The worn faux-leather sofa remained indented where he’d sat.
He opened the door and stepped out. The prosecutor’s office was empty. The two investigators were gone, and Jin-yong, who’d been waiting in the corridor, jumped up, saying he’d been starving.
He realized it was lunchtime. Marvin found himself glancing back into the office. Of course he couldn’t see Jang Jin-woo sitting alone, but he wondered why he even cared whether the prosecutor had someone to eat with.
“Boss, there’s a place nearby that does great stir-fried pork. Want to grab a bite?”
Checking his watch, they still had plenty of time before the halls opened for lunch. Yang Jin-man would know Marvin was at the prosecutor’s office today, so he wouldn’t complain about arriving late.
“All right, let’s eat.”
“Yes!”
Jin-yong celebrated, buoyed by both the extra free time and the expectation that Marvin would pay.
Pairs of prosecutor’s office staff were filing out, some with shoulder-purses, others lighting up cigarettes. Marvin and Jin-yong slipped into the throng and headed outside.