Fuck.
Yieum tossed restlessly beneath the blankets before finally sitting upright with a groan. He checked the time.
3 a.m.
Sleep refused to come. The conversation with Choi Wonjoon kept circling endlessly through his head.
That fucking bastard.
Did he dump his insomnia onto me or something?
With no hope of falling back asleep, Yieum kicked off the covers and climbed out of bed. He wandered into the living room, grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and drank deeply before setting his laptop on the dining table.
Beside it sat the USB drive Choi Wonjoon had given him.
He stared at it for a long moment.
Then, after another stretch of hesitation, he opened the laptop and plugged it in.
Three files.
Yieum clicked on the first video.
The screen immediately filled with naked bodies tangled together in a haze of alcohol and flesh. Men and women writhed shamelessly across expensive furniture, and among them was Assemblyman Kim—Kim Jicheol’s father.
But what truly made Yieum freeze was the next scene.
“Ah…!”
A man appeared briefly on screen.
The current Commissioner of the National Police Agency.
Yieum’s breath caught.
The commissioner had been close friends with his father for years. Yieum had known him since childhood. Whenever he visited headquarters, the man would personally call him into his office, pour him tea, ask after his family.
Yieum had always believed he was decent.
Respected him, even.
What the hell is this…
Heart pounding, Yieum abruptly stopped the video before he could see any more. He crossed straight to the refrigerator, grabbed a can of beer, and emptied nearly half of it in one go.
Then he opened the second file.
This one was audio only.
Yieum listened silently, but as the conversation continued, disbelief slowly crept across his face.
[Thanks to your efforts, Mr. Prosecutor General, my son was able to walk away safely.]
[Not at all. I’m honored to have been of service to you, Assemblyman.]
[A token of my gratitude will be delivered to your home shortly. Please accept it.]
The sound of old men laughing followed.
Yieum stared blankly at the screen.
How did Choi Wonjoon even obtain this?
Could it have been fabricated?
Doubt lingered, but alongside it came a far stronger feeling—unease. A sickening sense that he had pried open something that should never have been touched.
Pandora’s box.
He closed the files at once and dragged both hands down his face.
Just then, his phone vibrated.
Choi Wonjoon.
Yieum stared at the name flashing across the screen. For several seconds, he considered ignoring it entirely, but just before the ringing stopped, he answered.
“Yes.”
“You weren’t asleep?”
Even through the phone, Wonjoon’s voice sounded low and smooth.
“What are you doing awake at this hour, Mr. CEO?”
“I told you already. I have insomnia.”
A quiet chuckle followed.
“While everyone else sleeps, I stay awake like this.”
“….”
“Pitiful, isn’t it?”
Yieum ignored the question.
Wonjoon laughed softly again. Maybe because it was so late at night, his voice sounded even deeper than usual through the receiver.
“Where did you get those files? You know illegally recorded videos can’t be used as evidence.”
“Who said anything about evidence?”
Wonjoon’s tone remained casual.
“You handled the case yourself, didn’t you? Then you already know there was enough for an arrest back then. But Assemblyman Kim fought like hell to save his precious only son.”
A pause.
“He used the Police Commissioner. Even the Prosecutor General.”
“So?”
“This time, Inspector, you use that leverage against him.”
Yieum’s expression darkened.
“You’re telling me to blackmail a congressman?”
“You said you wanted to catch him.”
Wonjoon’s voice lowered slightly.
“Did you really think you could send a politician’s son to prison without getting your hands dirty?”
“….”
“Or should I handle the blackmail for you?”
A faint laugh.
“If you want, I could kill him too.”
Yieum frowned sharply.
“Did you forget I’m a detective?”
“It was a joke.”
Wonjoon sounded amused.
“I’m soft-hearted. I can’t even kill an ant.”
Bullshit.
Yieum had long suspected that Yang Taekil’s murder, Managing Director Park’s disappearance, and Kim Sangbeom suddenly confessing out of nowhere were all somehow connected to Choi Wonjoon.
Maybe not directly.
But close enough.
“Inspector Kim.”
The sudden shift in tone made Yieum pause.
“Did you know something?”
“I like your voice.”
Yieum’s face twisted immediately.
“Of course,” Wonjoon added lazily, “your face is exactly my type too.”
Disgusted, Yieum hung up at once.
The moment he tossed the phone aside, it started ringing again.
He ignored it.
It kept ringing.
Persistent bastard.
Yieum considered turning the phone off completely, but eventually irritation won out and he answered again.
“Did you hang up because you were embarrassed?”
“Obviously not.”
“I’m serious.”
Wonjoon’s voice softened strangely.
“When I hear your voice, it feels like all the tension in my brain melts away.”
A low exhale brushed through the receiver.
“My whole body goes loose. Do you know that feeling?”
“…Are you on drugs?”
Even the sarcasm failed to faze him.
“I have a favor to ask.”
“I refuse.”
“If it’s alright with you…”
A brief pause.
“Talk to me a little longer.”
Yieum stared blankly into space.
What the hell am I doing, talking to this lunatic at three in the morning?
His entire head throbbed. Without realizing it, he let out a low groan.
On the other end of the line, Wonjoon laughed quietly.
“Do that again.”
“…What?”
“That sound you just made.”
Silence.
Then, in a lowered whisper:
“Fuck, that turns me on.”
Yieum’s grip tightened around the phone so hard his knuckles creaked.
“What did you just say?”
“Oh? You heard that?”
Wonjoon sounded delighted.
“Sharp ears.”
“Cut the bullshit and go to sleep.”
Yieum snapped.
“And if you keep calling me like this, I’ll report you for stalking. Sexual harassment too, while I’m at it.”
He hung up immediately and powered the phone off altogether.
Still furious, he drained the rest of the beer before heading back into the bedroom. He collapsed face-down onto the bed, but his stomach churned violently and sleep still refused to come.
Part of him wanted to call Wonjoon back just to curse him out properly.
Unfortunately, that bastard would probably enjoy it.
Yieum sat inside the convenience store, keeping watch outside through the windows.
A string of jewelry store robberies had occurred nearby recently, and tonight he and Jeong Namsu were running stakeout duty.
A little while later, Namsu returned carrying two cup ramens filled with hot water. Without even waiting for the noodles to soften, he jammed his chopsticks straight in.
Watching him, Yieum shook his head.
“At least wait until it’s cooked.”
“The culprit always shows up the second the ramen’s ready.”
Namsu snorted.
“You say this every single time.”
While the noodles softened, Yieum unwrapped a hot bar and took a bite. But his mouth felt dry and bitter, leaving the food tasteless.
Thanks to Choi Wonjoon, he had barely slept at all. By the time exhaustion finally dragged him under, it had already been past the hour he should’ve left for work.
“Oh right.”
Namsu glanced over casually.
“I heard Sehwa Construction’s president dropped the charges.”
“…Yeah.”
“Did you meet him personally and apologize?”
An apology.
That had originally been the plan. Calmly talk things out. End it peacefully. Never see each other again afterward.
Instead, Yieum had returned carrying a burden far heavier than before.
The videos.
The phone call.
They kept replaying in his head.
“That guy didn’t pull anything weird on you, did he?”
“Weird?”
“I asked around. Apparently he’s infamous in those circles for playing dirty.”
“What does that even mean?”
“In simple terms?”
Namsu lowered his voice dramatically.
“He’s a total slut.”
“Hey.”
Yieum frowned immediately.
“You can’t call someone that.”
“A rich friend told me directly.”
Namsu shrugged.
“He’s from that world too.”
Still, slut felt excessive.
Though honestly… considering Choi Wonjoon’s personality, maybe it wasn’t entirely surprising.
His mouth certainly wasn’t restrained, so his sex life probably wasn’t either.
And somehow, Yieum doubted being called a slut would offend him at all. If anything, the bastard would probably laugh and enjoy it.
The more Yieum thought about him, the worse his image became.
“Namsu.”
“Yeah?”
“What do you think of the Commissioner?”
“The Commissioner?”
Namsu blinked.
“I don’t really know enough to say. Aren’t you close with him, sunbae?”
He was.
Yieum’s father, Kim Chunsam, and Commissioner Kim Hakmun had both graduated from the Police University together. Similar age, same career path—they had remained close friends for decades.
When Kim Chunsam retired a few years ago, Kim Hakmun naturally rose to Commissioner.
Even now, the two still went fishing together from time to time.
“You really can’t judge people by appearances.”
The words slipped out before Yieum realized it.
Namsu immediately leaned closer.
“Why? Did you see some hidden side of him or something?”
Yieum shook his head.
How could he possibly talk about it openly?
He lacked both the power to deal with the consequences and the courage to invite them.
He finally peeled open the ramen lid and stirred apart the fully softened noodles with his chopsticks.
Just as he was about to eat, Namsu jabbed him sharply in the arm.
Nudge.
Yieum looked up instinctively.
A man wearing a hat was walking past outside.
His build matched the figure from the CCTV footage almost perfectly.
Yieum immediately lowered the chopsticks.
Namsu grinned triumphantly.
“Told you. Should’ve eaten earlier.”
“You were right. Let’s move.”
The two rushed out and tailed the suspect from a distance.
There had been an accomplice involved during the robberies, so if possible, they intended to catch both tonight.
The suspect stopped in front of a jewelry store and stared through the display window.
“That bastard’s scouting the place in broad daylight.”
“Looks like it.”
“Should we grab him now?”
“Not yet. Let’s follow a little longer.”
Just then, a black sedan rolled slowly up beside them.
Yieum was about to ignore it when the tinted window slid down with a mechanical whir.
Then a familiar face leaned out.
“Inspector Kim!”
The shout rang out so loudly the suspect flinched and spun around immediately.
The moment the man realized he’d been made, he bolted.
“Fuck—!”
Yieum didn’t even have time to get angry at Choi Wonjoon for interfering before he took off after the suspect.
The chase tore through the crowded streets. The suspect darted into an alley, and Yieum followed close behind, only to hit a fork in the road where the man had vanished completely.
“Namsu! That way!”
They split up instantly.
Moments later, Yieum spotted the suspect again farther ahead.
He sprinted after him with everything he had, lungs burning painfully, but the distance refused to close. Catching violent criminals was one thing. Chasing down someone fast enough to outrun him was another problem entirely.
Then the suspect burst out of the alley onto the main road.
I have to catch him before he crosses.
Yieum pushed himself harder.
And then—
Screech.
A black vehicle came flying out of nowhere and slammed directly into the suspect.
Thud.
The man’s body launched through the air before crashing hard against the pavement.
Yieum stopped dead, too stunned to even react.
The black car’s window rolled down.
Choi Wonjoon leaned lazily out of it and smiled brilliantly.
“No need to thank me.”