Free Web NovelWatching the clash between police and the followers, Prosecutor Jeong Taehun frowned.
The resistance was fiercer than expected; even some officers had started to get hurt.
“I’ll probably get chewed out for this later.”
Muttering to himself, Jeong stretched out a hand toward the investigator beside him.
“Chief Kim, give me your gun.”
“Sir?”
Investigator Kim Wanseong looked startled.
“Give it to me. At this rate, more innocent officers will get hurt.”
“...There’s bound to be trouble afterward.”
“Chief Kim, you know as well as I do that I’m already standing at the edge of a cliff. Being a no-connections, high-school-graduate prosecutor is a much bigger problem for me.”
“Prosecutor...”
Kim Wanseong had worked with Jeong Taehun for quite a while.
He knew exactly how much frustration Jeong had endured within the prosecution service all those years.
“If we handle this well, won’t the higher-ups take notice? Wasn’t that the deal?”
“That’s why I need the gun. Before this gets worse. Don’t you see them? Those lunatics waving weapons around.”
“...”
Kim glanced around.
The police were struggling to suppress the crowd with batons, while the followers brandished sharp farm tools and blades.
With a sigh, Kim finally pulled out his revolver and handed it over. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓
It was the standard revolver used by the Korean police.
“The first three rounds are blanks. After that, live ammo. Three warnings at most, Prosecutor.”
As he handed it over, he explained. Jeong nodded firmly.
“Prosecutor Jeong, are you really going to use that?”
Photographer Hong Junseong, who had been taking pictures of the confrontation, asked nervously.
“If I leave this alone, there’ll be casualties. I need to end it quickly.”
Jeong lifted the gun, pointed it skyward, and pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The loud crack of a blank round echoed through the grounds.
Instantly, everyone froze.
“Drop your weapons, all of you. Or I’ll fire for real.”
“...”
“Tactical team, draw your weapons.”
The detectives who had been standing by flinched and glanced at one another in surprise.
Jeong called out again, louder.
“Drop your weapons!”
But the followers still glared at the police, clutching their tools and blades.
Jeong pulled the trigger a second time.
“Everyone, draw your guns!”
As he shouted again, the detectives all drew their revolvers.
Seeing that, Jeong gave one last warning, his voice low and firm.
“This is your final chance. Drop your weapons.”
Would fanatics fear death? Jeong himself couldn’t be sure, firing only blanks.
But it was the only option he had.
Bang!
The last blank fired—but no one lowered their weapons.
“Fire blanks, everyone.”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The detectives’ guns all went off in unison.
The deafening noise rolled over the courtyard, but the followers’ defiant eyes did not waver.
Jeong turned his gun toward them.
“P-Prosecutor Jeong...”
Hong Junseong’s voice trembled.
“...You’re not actually going to shoot, are you?”
Jeong didn’t answer—he simply looked at him.
Seeing the resolve in his eyes, Hong paled and stumbled backward.
“Drop your weapons immediately and surrender.”
His voice was emotionless, but the believers didn’t comply.
Jeong’s finger tightened slowly on the trigger.
— If things get out of hand, just report and fire blanks instead. That’s better. Using live rounds will cause you more problems than a few injured officers ever would. I’ll handle the aftermath, so don’t worry.
Kim Muhyuk’s confident voice echoed in Jeong’s mind.
Jeong bit his lip—just as he was about to fire.
“Everyone, lower your weapons.”
A man and woman walked out from the building. It was the cult leader, Han Sungjin, and his wife, Madam Kim Sunja.
“President!”
“Put them down. That man’s eyes mean it. Are you all trying to die here? Drop your weapons and stand back.”
“Yes, sir!”
Those who hadn’t backed down even at gunpoint obeyed instantly at Han Sungjin’s words.
They dropped their weapons all at once and stepped aside.
Seeing that, Jeong slowly lowered his gun.
“Well, isn’t that something. Guess that cult leader’s scarier than a gun.”
“How could we ever know what goes on in the minds of zealots? Still, we’re lucky. If shots had been fired, it could’ve been a disaster later.”
Jeong gave a small nod, still tense, and handed the revolver back to Kim Wanseong.
Straightening his clothes under the guise of composure, his trembling hands betrayed how taut his nerves were.
Once he’d steadied himself, he walked toward Han Sungjin.
“President Han Sungjin. We’re from the Seoul District Prosecutors’ Office. We ask for your cooperation.”
“Seoul District? Who’s in charge there now?”
“Chief ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) Prosecutor Hyun Seongtaek, sir.”
Han rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then asked,
“Whose doing is this? I haven’t received a single call—so this must’ve been done in secret.”
“...”
“Hyunwoo? Or Hyunsoo? If not...”
He turned toward his wife, Kim Sunja.
“Why are you looking at me?”
“It wasn’t you?”
“What are you implying?”
Her sharp retort came like a snap of a whip.
“Surely you don’t think I reported our own son?”
“As long as it wasn’t you.”
“Dear!”
Her voice tore through the air, but Han Sungjin ignored her coldly.
Turning back to Jeong, he asked flatly,
“The charge is murder?”
“Yes. There are also accusations of rape and assault, but the murder charge is the primary one. We have solid evidence. That’s why the court issued an arrest warrant directly.”
Even as he listened to his son’s crimes, Han only clicked his tongue without a flicker of emotion.
“Tsk. A checkmate, then... Solid evidence—must be video footage. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have barged in like this.”
“The investigation’s ongoing. I can’t disclose details.”
Han nodded calmly—so calmly that Jeong was taken aback.
“Go inside and bring him out.”
“Dear!”
“President!”
His followers protested, but Han already knew—it was too late to intervene.
The church mattered more to him than his son. Han fixed his gaze on Jeong as he moved to leave.
“Be satisfied with Hyunjin alone. Dig any deeper, and you’ll spark a real war.”
“That depends on what the investigation reveals.”
“I’ll warn you again. Don’t extend your investigation beyond Hyunjin. If you do, you’ll see hell. Don’t take my words lightly.”
Han Sungjin had no intention of letting Heaven’s Church collapse over something this trivial.
His warning delivered, his eyes shifted past Jeong—toward the man holding a camera.
The reporter’s face seemed strangely familiar.
“You there... Have we met before? You look familiar. Which paper are you with?”
Meeting his gaze, Hong Junseong lowered his camera slightly and grinned.
“Good afternoon, President Han. Long time no see.”
Han’s eyes narrowed.
“Long time? So we have met before?”
“Of course. I worked at Sesin Daily until recently. I’m with Koryeo Daily now.”
“...”
A fearless prosecutor and a reporter who’d moved from Sesin to Koryeo.
Only then did Han Sungjin grasp the entire setup.
“Well, damn. A real checkmate. Haha!”
He burst out laughing, the sound harsh and wild.
“Whoever’s behind this... they’ve gone all in. Truly gone all in. I’d love to know who it is.”
Though he laughed, his eyes were icy cold.
Ignoring him, Jeong Taehun passed by and entered the building with the detectives.
* * *
“What? Is that true?”
Choi Sunman’s face twisted in fury.
After whispering something, Jang Minhyuk stepped back.
“Yes, sir. The report just came in.”
“How could I not know about this?”
Choi turned toward me, his eyes blazing.
“You. This was your doing.”
“What are you talking about?”
Feigning ignorance, I traced a finger along my teacup rim. The mask of composure finally cracked from Choi Sunman’s face.
“How dare you! You come here to meet me while pulling something like this?! Call Hyun Seongtaek right now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“He won’t answer even if you call.”
“What?”
I said it lightly, and Choi glared at me as though he could kill me with his eyes.
I raised the cup to my lips, smiling faintly.
“Chief Prosecutor Hyun Seongtaek won’t be answering any calls. So don’t bother.”
“You have no idea about my relationship with Hyun Seongtaek.”
Jang Minhyuk pulled out his phone and started dialing.
Even clever men lost sense when angered, it seemed.
I hadn’t said wouldn’t answer—I’d said couldn’t.
“I’m the one who put him in that position. He would never ignore me!”
“Is that so? Then why didn’t you know about today’s operation? This happened under the Central District Prosecutors’ Office. You really think something like this could occur without the chief prosecutor knowing? In such a rigid organization?”
“...”
Flames blazed in Choi’s eyes. When Jang finally lowered his phone, Choi clenched his teeth.
“Hyuk, he didn’t answer?”
“No, sir... I’m sorry.”
“Hahaha!”
Choi burst into loud laughter—but there was not a trace of humor on his face.
“Interesting. So Chief Hyun betrayed me? Even after I promised him the prosecutor general’s seat? How did you pull that off?”
Setting my empty cup down, I replied,
“He didn’t betray you. His loyalty to you is... impressive, actually. I should learn from it.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I had to take rough measures because of it.”
“What?”
I pointed toward the television in the room.
“By now, it should be on the news. Why don’t you check?”
“...Hyuk.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jang turned on the TV. Switching to a news channel, the anchor was reading a breaking report in a stiff tone.
—“We’ve just received word that Central District Chief Prosecutor Hyun Seongtaek has been arrested on charges of aiding and abetting murder and accepting bribes. Chief Hyun, who was recently appointed...”
No matter which channel he flipped to, every broadcast carried the same story.
The unprecedented arrest of a sitting chief prosecutor had halted all regular programming.
Jang hurriedly turned off the TV, likely trying not to worsen Choi’s temper.
Choi stared at the black screen for a long moment before finally speaking.
“Impressive. Taking down an acting chief prosecutor—far more meticulous than I expected. Seems I underestimated you. Was it President Kim Hak-kwon who moved on your behalf?”
“The president knows nothing. And what power does a lame-duck president have left? The head of internal inspection moved personally—with approval from the prosecutor general himself.”
A president might once have wielded absolute power, but nearing the end of his term, he was powerless.
No one in the judiciary or intelligence agencies cared to read his mood anymore.
And yet Choi thought I’d used Kim Hakgwon? His instincts had dulled.
“You swayed the prosecutor general? Isn’t that the same as saying President Kim Hakgwon did? Isn’t the prosecutor general his sword?”
“He’s already changed ships. If he wants to step down quietly, he had to. Tell me, why did you put yourself back in the spotlight again? All you’ve done is hurt the people around you.”
“Huh...”
Choi no longer laughed.
He still rubbed his chin, pretending composure—but his calm was long gone.
“Mr. President, you’re still mistaken. This isn’t the era of military regimes anymore. Did you really think power could still be seized with guns?”
“What are you implying?”
“You’re preparing a military coup, aren’t you? You actually thought that would work.”
Shock spread across Choi’s face. Realizing that I knew about his final card left him speechless, his voice trembling.
“W-What did you say?”
“Do nothing. That’s the only way you’ll survive.”
