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Chapter 47
“Enough already, you bastard—!”
Thud!
Seung-beom crashed into the floor with a sound like the ground itself had split, losing consciousness instantly.
Huff—huff—huff—
Seong-jin, still seething with anger, panted heavily as he looked down at Seung-beom lying on the floor.
“119! 119! Call an ambulance! Quickly!”
Someone in the courtroom shouted.
“Is he… dead?”
“Doesn’t look like he’s breathing.”
“Oh my, what do we do?”
Concerned voices echoed, but no one stepped forward.
“Excuse me, please move aside. I’m a doctor. Let me take a look.”
At that moment, In-hye ran over to Seung-beom to check his condition.
“How is he? It’s not serious, right?”
Chief Choi followed, wearing a slightly worried expression.
If Seung-beom got seriously hurt, even in self-defense, Seong-jin could be in trouble.
“He might have a mild concussion, but nothing to worry about. He just fainted. He’ll wake up soon. Let’s move him to the infirmary first.”
In-hye examined Seung-beom’s eyes and overall condition and exhaled in relief.
“Phew—good. That’s a relief.”
Chief Choi patted Seong-jin on the back with a look of relief.
It was a blessing that this promising life wasn’t ruined by a single trashy human being.
“Don’t just stand there. Help move him.”
In-hye glared at the people around her with mild disapproval as she spoke.
“Are you really okay?”
The judge looked at In-hye, startled.
“Yes. He’s fine. But he should be moved to the infirmary first. Is that okay?”
In-hye asked for the judge’s permission one last time.
“Quickly move him to the infirmary. And Officer, he may cause another disturbance, so handcuff him and secure him with restraints. The trial will be recessed and resume in one hour.”
Seung-beom lay unconscious on the infirmary bed, his hands cuffed to the frame. In-hye, Seong-jin, Chief Choi, and Chae-rin watched with mixed emotions.
“Chief, it looks like it’s over now, right?”
“Hmm… seems like it.”
Chief Choi looked at Seung-beom on the bed with a troubled expression.
The satisfaction of solving the case was fleeting. Thoughts of other depraved individuals emerging always left a bitter aftertaste, no matter how resolved a case was.
“But he really is a medalist, isn’t he? Earlier, he was… not just good, impressive even. Chae-rin, you were surprised too, right?”
In-hye glanced at Seong-jin and gave an awkward compliment.
“Well…”
Seong-jin scratched his head, feeling embarrassed but secretly proud; that had been the best display he’d shown so far.
“Even if he looks like this, he was amazing at judo.”
Chief Choi patted Seong-jin’s back proudly and smiled.
“It’s nothing special. Why are you embarrassed?”
Seong-jin awkwardly scratched his head.
“Chief Choi, can I talk to you for a moment?”
At that moment, Tae-joon poked his head into the infirmary.
“What’s the matter?”
“First, thank you for your hard work.”
Tae-joon offered a faint smile and extended his hand to Chief Choi.
“No need. I was wondering if something happened on your end too.”
Chief Choi laughed heartily as he shook Tae-joon’s hand.
It was the first time he could look at Tae-joon closely: thick eyebrows, a sharp nose, flawless skin, perfectly proportioned features.
“Handsome” was the only word that came to mind.
Even the cold, sharp courtroom glare seemed clear and pure in this light.
“How’s Kim Seung-beom?”
“He just fainted briefly. He’ll be fine.”
“Thank goodness. And I just got word that investigators confirmed the columbarium CCTV and the taxi’s black box at his home.”
“So it went exactly as expected?”
Chief Choi smiled faintly, hands on his hips.
“From the moment Lee Seung-hee read the notebook in the urn, to Kim Seung-beom discovering it and immediately dragging her out—it was all caught on camera. The taxi black box recorded the accident too.”
“So he had everything. Looks like it’s finally all over.”
Chief Choi exhaled in relief.
“With this evidence and the witnesses’ testimonies, it’s practically over.”
Tae-joon relaxed slightly.
“You’ve been dealing with that crazy guy all this time. Thank you.”
“No, you’ve done the hard work too. Without these crucial pieces of evidence, we could have missed it right in front of our eyes.”
“I was just doing my job.”
“I’ve heard rumors about you, Chief, but seeing it in person is really impressive.”
“Why are you flattering me?”
Chief Choi waved his hands awkwardly.
“How do you find hidden witnesses and evidence like that?”
Tae-joon’s eyes gleamed with curiosity over his glasses.
“Just lucky, I guess.”
Chief Choi laughed his usual hearty laugh, brushing it off lightly.
“You found the urn no one else even thought of, and you call that luck?”
Tae-joon raised an incredulous eyebrow.
“This case started at the columbarium. I just dug around there and got lucky. Years of detective work give you a kind of instinct.”
Chief Choi gave a rough excuse to cover the fact that it was really Chae-rin who had discovered most of it.
“Instinct?”
“Yes. Even prosecutors get that gut feeling while investigating, don’t you?”
“I still trust records more. With your experience, I can see that working.”
Tae-joon nodded lightly in understanding, but his curious gaze beyond his glasses didn’t fade.
At that moment, In-hye, Seong-jin, and Chae-rin exited the infirmary.
“Detective Kim, you’ve greeted Prosecutor Park, right?”
Chief Choi shifted the conversation naturally as Seong-jin emerged, giving Tae-joon a brief reprieve.
“Not officially yet. We only exchanged evidence in the courtroom.”
It was their second meeting, but so far Tae-joon had only seen Seong-jin sweating and gasping while handing over files.
“Well, then let’s do introductions. This is Detective Kim Seong-jin. This is Prosecutor Park Tae-joon.”
“I’m Detective Kim Seong-jin of Gwangsu Unit. Nice to meet you.”
Seong-jin extended his hand toward Tae-joon.
“Pleasure. I’m Prosecutor Park Tae-joon. I didn’t get a chance to thank you earlier.”
“No need. It was my duty. But seeing the report of ‘no blood detected from Hwang Jung-sik,’ I nearly fainted. Even now, I’m sweating just thinking about it.”
“I felt the same—total darkness in front of me.”
Tae-joon shook his head, recalling the tense moment.
“Still, I’m glad it’s resolved. If that guy had gone free… I might have died from frustration.”
“Thanks to both of you. But who are these ladies?”
Tae-joon’s gaze shifted to In-hye and Chae-rin standing nearby.
“Oh, this is Dr. Jung In-hye, a psychiatrist who has helped our investigation greatly. She assisted in this case in many ways, so I brought her today.”
“Hello, I’m Jung In-hye.”
In-hye stepped forward and bowed lightly.
“Hello, I’m Park Tae-joon. As a psychiatrist, I think I’ll be asking for your help often. Nice to meet you.”
Tae-joon’s gaze lingered on In-hye for a moment—she looked more like a model than a doctor.
“If there’s anything I can help with, anytime.”
Even in that brief introduction, In-hye’s analytical eyes swept Tae-joon from head to toe.
Chae-rin, meanwhile, slowly backed away, retreating silently, like a tiny black dot on white paper—she knew she didn’t belong here.
“Chief, who’s the girl walking ahead? She came with you, right?”
Tae-joon asked, noticing Chae-rin’s small figure leaving the room.
Her presence had drawn his attention earlier, whether because of her youth, mysterious aura, or striking looks.
“Oh, that’s my niece. She came for a court visit today.”
Chief Choi quickly brushed it off, gesturing to Seong-jin and In-hye to assist.
“Yes, she’s my niece. She wants to be a police officer, so I bring her often. She insisted on seeing the Kim Seung-beom case—it’s quite a high-profile one.”
Seong-jin awkwardly nodded along.
“The trial will resume soon. Let’s go.”
In-hye, trying to suppress laughter at Seong-jin’s awkward act, moved first.
“Yes.”
But Tae-joon’s gaze lingered on Chae-rin’s retreating figure.
“Then we will resume the trial.”
The judge announced, and all eyes turned to the empty defendant’s seat.
“Has the defendant not woken yet? If he can’t participate, we may have to postpone… then the next trial would be…”
At that moment.
“Oh my.”
Seung-beom, bound and restrained, entered the courtroom, and screams nearly erupted from the gallery.
“Defendant, are you able to participate? If not, we will postpone to the next session.”
The judge observed Seung-beom slumping in the seat.
The frenzied figure from before was gone, replaced by someone who seemed resigned to life, a sight both unfamiliar and unsettling.
“Your Honor, the medical team confirmed the defendant is healthy enough to attend the trial.”
Tae-joon stood and coldly stared at Seung-beom.
Having decided to end this trial here, he wouldn’t let him slip away.
“Defense, can the trial continue?”
“Yes.”
Kim had already given up; postponing would be a waste of time.
“Then we will continue.”
The trial against Seung-beom progressed smoothly.
Tae-joon presented every piece of evidence and testimony, leaving Seung-beom no way to escape.
Kim occasionally raised his voice but lacked the will to fight, offering only obligatory defense.
After some time, the long, grueling battle concluded.
The judge looked at Tae-joon solemnly.
“Prosecution, state your sentence.”
Silence fell in the courtroom.
“Your Honor, the defendant Kim Seung-beom committed heinous murders, killing his parents and two fiancées purely for personal gain, betraying the natural bonds of kinship.”
Tae-joon stood, staring at the head-down Seung-beom, and walked slowly forward.
“He even brutally murdered Hwang Jung-sik, a witness to the crimes, to cover up his guilt. This is unforgivable, an act beyond what society and law can tolerate. Moreover, the premeditated cover-up shows the defendant’s extreme moral depravity. To protect societal stability and prevent recurrence, he must be punished severely.”
All eyes fixed on Tae-joon as he caught his breath.
“I request the defendant be sentenced to death.”
Seung-beom finally lifted his head, astonished, at the word “death.”
“The court will render the final verdict after reviewing all materials in three days here. The defendant will be remanded immediately.”
As the judge spoke, officers lifted Seung-beom, bound in restraints.
Everyone in the courtroom silently watched.
The once confident, arrogant Seung-beom now looked utterly pathetic and pitiful.
“Wait, wait a minute. I have one question.”
As he was led out, Seung-beom suddenly stopped, glaring at Tae-joon with disbelief.
The courtroom tensed again.
“The witnesses, the fountain pen, the urn… how did you know it all?”
“The truth always comes to light in the end.”
Tae-joon stared into Seung-beom’s eyes.
“Don’t talk nonsense. You never could have figured it out. There’s someone. Who told you everything?”
Seung-beom sneered at Tae-joon, then suddenly looked toward the gallery.
“Chae-rin, let’s go quickly.”
Chief Choi grabbed Chae-rin and hurried her out of the courtroom, a sense of impending danger crawling down his spine.
At that moment.
“Hey! Wait a second. I think I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
Seung-beom yelled at the retreating figure of Chae-rin.
