Yieum sat beneath a canopy of wisteria vines, gazing up at the sky. The sunlight was warm against his skin, while the breeze carried a pleasant chill. It was the kind of weather that made people want to drop everything and go somewhere far away—if not for work.
A moment later, Jeong Daehan returned from the vending machine with two drinks and handed one to him. The moment Yieum took it, he realized it was the same drink he used to love back in school.
“Thanks.”
He took a long sip, cooling his dry throat, then glanced over at Daehan.
He had wondered what brought him to the National Forensic Service, only to discover that Jeong Daehan was the prosecutor assigned to the Yang Taekil case. Namsu had mentioned that the case had recently been transferred to a prosecutor from a regional office, and though the name had sounded vaguely familiar, Yieum had never imagined it would turn out to be his middle school classmate.
“Has it really been eleven years?”
“Yeah. We lost contact after graduation.”
“Have you been doing well?”
Daehan nodded before asking quietly, “What about you?”
“I’ve been… alright.”
Silence settled between them as naturally as if they had agreed to it beforehand.
Truthfully, Yieum had completely forgotten about someone named Jeong Daehan. He still kept in touch with a few friends from middle school, but none of them had ever been close to Daehan, so his name had simply never come up again.
“You really haven’t changed,” Daehan said. “I recognized you the moment you stepped out of your car.”
Yieum gave a faint smile.
“You’ve changed a lot. You’re taller, too.”
Back then, Daehan had been at least a head shorter than him—round-faced, bespectacled, painfully shy. He loved books and had an innocence to him that made him stand out. Maybe because of that, he’d often ended up as a target for the school’s troublemakers.
“You said you’re handling the mountain trail dismemberment case, right?”
“Yeah. I came by to see the medical examiner for a bit. Some things about the case don’t add up.”
Something flickered across Yieum’s face.
He had assumed the case was already over. The suspect had turned himself in, the investigation had been passed to the prosecution, and that should have been the end of it. But hearing Daehan say something felt off stirred a quiet sense of anticipation inside him.
“To be honest, I came to look over the body again because I had doubts too,” Yieum admitted. “There are signs of a struggle, but the victim was much larger physically. If someone left bruises like those, the attacker should’ve been injured badly too. But aside from some old scars, the suspect was completely unharmed.”
Daehan nodded.
“That’s exactly what I thought. I already submitted a request to Team Leader Oh for additional evidence.” He gave an awkward smile. “Honestly, I feel a little bad. It seems like I just dumped more work on you.”
Team Leader Oh would definitely complain about it, but strangely enough, Yieum felt lighter.
“Don’t. This is our job.”
Another awkward silence followed.
Yieum casually tossed the empty can toward the trash bin. The can dropped cleanly inside with a sharp clink, and Daehan burst out laughing beside him.
“You’re still the same.”
“Hm?”
“You were good at basketball back then too.”
Yieum snorted softly.
“What are you talking about? I just liked playing.”
“No, seriously. You practically flew across the court.” Daehan laughed, the marks on his cheeks deepening. “A lot of girls liked you back then too. Not that you ever cared.”
The indent on his cheek became more pronounced when he smiled.
It wasn’t a dimple.
“It scarred.”
“Huh?”
“That mark on your face. It happened because of me.”
“Ah…”
Daehan looked visibly flustered.
“No, it happened because I stuck my nose in where I didn’t need to. It wasn’t your fault. Seriously.”
His answer came so firmly that Yieum let the subject drop.
In reality, it had started over something ridiculously trivial. A popular female sunbae had confessed to Yieum, and he turned her down. Later, her boyfriend found out—and everything spiraled from there.
The next day, the guy stormed into Yieum’s classroom. An argument broke out, then fists started flying. During the fight, the enraged sunbae grabbed a ballpoint pen and lunged while Yieum was down on the floor.
Jeong Daehan had thrown himself in the way.
The attacker was disciplined afterward, but the wound left behind a scar on Daehan’s cheek—one that looked deceptively like a dimple.
In a sense, Daehan had been his savior.
And yet Yieum had forgotten him completely.
Feeling oddly guilty, Yieum nudged at the ground with the tip of his shoe.
Tap. Tap.
“I was really grateful back then.”
The moment he said it, Daehan abruptly looked away.
The tips of his ears had gone red.
Was he embarrassed by compliments?
Just as Yieum was wondering that, his phone rang. It was Namsu.
He rose to his feet, pulled a business card from his wallet, and handed it over.
“Looks like we’ll be seeing each other often from now on. I look forward to working with you, Prosecutor Jeong.”
Yieum smiled easily as he spoke.
Daehan hurriedly reached for his own wallet, fumbling slightly. Along with the business card, a small slip of paper fluttered out and fell to the ground.
As Yieum bent to pick it up, Daehan reacted as if he’d seen a ghost. He snatched the paper up in a panic and shoved it into his back pocket.
Watching his face turn bright red, Yieum felt curiosity stir inside him.
“What was that?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Daehan thrust the business card into his hand and stood up so abruptly his chair scraped against the ground.
“It was good seeing you. Let’s talk again sometime. I should get going!”
The words came out in a rush.
Then he practically fled toward his car.
Yieum tilted his head, watching him leave.
What was that about?
Daehan had clearly panicked because of the paper.
Could it be…?
He hadn’t seen it clearly, but it had looked strangely similar to those tiny stamp-like tabs people placed on their tongues.
Drugs.
Yieum watched his old classmate speed out of the parking lot, suspicion lingering on his face.
Surely not.
“How is there nothing in your fridge except beer?”
The moment Kim Mideum arrived at Yieum’s apartment, he opened the refrigerator and immediately started complaining.
Fresh from the shower, Yieum sat sprawled on the couch with a beer in one hand while lazily flipping through movies with the remote. Mideum grabbed a beer for himself, dropped onto the sofa beside him, and dumped a pile of snacks onto the table.
“Put on something else. Do I seriously have to watch crime movies after getting off work? I’m sick of this shit.”
He snatched the remote and changed the channel.
After watching him for a moment, Yieum spoke casually.
“What’s Yoonji doing?”
“She went to bed early.”
“And while you’re here, take those documents out of my safe already. How long are you planning to leave them here?”
“We don’t have a safe at home. Besides, Yoonji’s mom hates it when I bring work back with me.”
“Then throw them away. You said you couldn’t even use them in court.”
“I didn’t say I couldn’t use them. I said I chose not to.”
“Why?”
Mideum let out a dry laugh.
“I already told you. They’re all corrupt assholes. There was no way I could win.”
He grabbed a handful of snacks and shoved some toward Yieum, who absentmindedly started eating them one by one.
“Wasn’t it Sehwa Group’s second son you tried to arrest last year?”
“Yeah.”
“Were there documents about Sehwa Construction too?”
Mideum’s gaze shifted away from the TV.
“This about that case from before? I heard it already got closed.”
“I was just wondering if you knew anything about their CEO.”
“The Sehwa Construction CEO? You mean the youngest son?”
“Yeah.”
“There’s a pretty big age gap between him and the older brothers. I heard he was spoiled rotten growing up because he was the youngest.”
“What else?”
“He’s probably the smartest one out of the three. Graduated from Hankuk University, focused entirely on management, no major scandals. Good instincts too. Honestly, he might be more qualified to inherit the group than the older brothers.”
“What else?”
“What do you mean, what else?”
“A weakness.”
Mideum slowly raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering why his younger brother was suddenly so interested in Choi Wonjoon.
But Yieum couldn’t exactly explain the situation. If Mideum ever found out that the Youngsik who had stayed over at his place was actually that Choi Wonjoon from Sehwa Construction, he would lose his mind.
“A weakness…”
Mideum fell into thought before suddenly snapping his fingers.
“Ah, right. There is one.”
Yieum’s eyes lit up slightly. Maybe there really was something he could use against Choi Wonjoon.
But the answer completely killed his motivation.
“There’s a rumor his private life is a mess. Apparently he keeps a separate suite at a hotel, and the person staying there changes constantly. Bastard must have insane stamina. Wait—is that even a weakness? Sounds more like a fucking talent.”
Yieum stared at his brother with visible disappointment before draining the rest of his beer.
Namsu had already warned him about that part.
Called him a slut, even.
But honestly, that kind of thing would never work against Choi Wonjoon. He seemed like the sort of person who’d just grin if someone insulted him to his face.
“If possible, stay away from him,” Mideum said more seriously. “Those people aren’t the kind you want to get involved with. The investigation’s over, so don’t dig any deeper.”
“Is that a warning?”
“Advice.” Mideum leaned back against the couch. “I learned the hard way. Sometimes you survive by knowing when to compromise.”
“What happened to the mad dog of the Central District Prosecutors’ Office?”
“I just learned my place.” His brother gave a bitter smile. “Some things are impossible no matter how hard you fight. And do you really think people like them would leave evidence lying around? You’d never know what they’re hiding unless you actually lived under the same roof as them.”
Yieum slowly turned to look at him.
Unless you lived under the same roof as them?
For a brief moment, a ridiculous thought crossed his mind.
“Oh right,” Mideum added suddenly. “You’re meeting someone this weekend, aren’t you?”
Me?
Yieum blinked.
Then Choi Wonjoon immediately came to mind.
How the hell does hyung know about that bastard?
“Uh… how did you know?”
Mideum looked at him like he was hopeless.
“Dad told me.”
“Huh?”
“He’s got high hopes, apparently. Stop being stubborn and just go. Getting married young isn’t the worst thing in the world. If you absolutely hate it, fine—but do you really think you can go against Dad?”
Ah.
The blind date.
Relief washed over his face, and Mideum frowned immediately.
“Don’t tell me you forgot.”
“…”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I told him I didn’t want to go.”
“And since when has Dad ever listened?” Mideum scoffed. “If you really hate it, reject the other person yourself. That’s the cleanest way to handle it.”
Yieum rubbed a hand down his tired face.
Somehow, he’d ended up double-booked.
Though after a moment, he reconsidered.
Could what he had with Choi Wonjoon even be called plans?
Wonjoon was the one who had pushed for it in the first place.
And besides, now that the test results had clearly confirmed he was a Beta, there was no reason left to feel intimidated anymore.