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Chapter 10
“Don’t Pay Any Attention”
“I’m hungry.”
“Alright, alright.”
“When is that Shawn or Shol guy you mentioned coming?”
“Shawn! The headliner… at… twel… twelve.”
“Hey!”
“I’ll pay for everything. Just fill up on beer for now. Hmm? It’s twelve anyway, and once we start dancing, time flies. Let’s dance, Yumi!”
Yumi pulled Dasol toward the stage.
Dasol stood there awkwardly, glancing around.
“Wanna play with us, pretty lady?”
A man’s voice suddenly came from right beside her ear. Startled, Dasol glanced at him.
The fact that he was pressing too close was unpleasant enough—but the word “pretty” made her face stiffen.
“No.”
Her reply was as sharp as cutting tangled dog fur.
The man lingered a bit longer, trying to flirt, then quickly moved on to another woman.
Before she could even see his back, another voice came.
“Are you an aspiring celebrity? No… you’re prettier than an actress.”
“Hey pretty girl. Wanna hang with oppa?”
“Wow, you’re really pretty. How many people are you here with?”
In less than three minutes on the dance floor, Dasol turned back toward her seat.
Yumi, who had followed her, chugged beer like water and spoke.
“They all keep saying ‘pretty’… I know you hate it, but they’ve got eyes too.”
In the chaotic lighting, Yumi noticed Dasol’s stiff expression and shook her head.
“This place just uses ‘pretty’ as a default line. They don’t know what else to say since it’s your first time. Don’t mind it.”
The aversion to being called pretty—
It was a chronic condition passed down from her mother.
Yumi, who knew that well, tried to comfort her.
“I know. But it still pisses me off. Even if they don’t know what else to say, still…”
“Dasol. You’re going to hear that all night here. Just let it go in one ear and out the other, okay?”
“…Sigh. Fine. I’ll just sit here for a bit. You go dance. You like dancing, don’t you?”
“Okay!”
Yumi fired finger guns shaped like hearts and went back to the stage. Even the short walk looked like a dance—hips and shoulders swinging wildly.
It was hard to tell if she was walking or dancing forward.
Watching Yumi enjoy herself, Dasol took a sip of beer.
Just quietly watching wasn’t easy. Men kept approaching one after another.
“I lost a game, so I came over—could I just get one drink?”
It was obvious what they were after, but this was still the most tolerable line she had heard.
Dasol repeatedly said she came with a boyfriend, like a broken record, to men who kept throwing endless pick-up lines at her.
After answering so many rejections that her mouth hurt, she finally headed toward the restroom, irritated.
Haa.
At least the restroom was peaceful.
On her way back through a long hallway lined with private rooms, just before re-entering the chaotic club floor—
A tall man in a black suit stepped out of one of the rooms.
Broad shoulders, a sharply tailored silhouette—her eyes naturally followed him.
Then suddenly, he turned around.
It was Jang Jihyuk.
“Ah? Prosecutor—!”
Jihyuk covered her mouth and pulled her into the room. Startled, Dasol shoved him away.
“What are you doing?!”
“Sorry. I can’t let it be known that I’m a prosecutor right now.”
He adjusted his unfastened suit jacket casually.
Unlike usual, he wasn’t wearing a tie. A black shirt beneath the suit made him look like a model.
The low lighting carved over his sculpted face like an artwork, and the three undone buttons gave off a raw, almost wild presence.
So it’s about not letting people know he’s a prosecutor?
That one thought immediately led Dasol to imagine undercover operations, sting missions, and crime busts.
Prosecutor and a nightclub.
It made perfect sense.
“Wait, is this… that thing?”
“What thing?”
“Undercover investigation.”
There was no one else in the room, but Dasol leaned in and whispered dramatically.
With the loud music seeping in, Jihyuk frowned slightly.
“What did you say?”
“Undercover investigation. Undercover.”
Frustrated, she leaned closer as if hugging him to make sure he heard.
Only then did he understand. He flinched slightly, then shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Not exactly undercover. Anyway, I just can’t let it be known I’m a prosecutor. Please cooperate.”
“Of course! Of course!”
Dasol’s eyes sparkled with excitement and curiosity. Something interesting was finally happening in this dull club.
Before long, the door burst open.
“Senior!”
A man rushed in urgently.
Dasol recognized him—it was a junior prosecutor she had briefly seen after Jihyuk caught a drug suspect at a shop.
“Why.”
“Uh? Did you arrange her already?”
He looked at Dasol with surprise.
“Arrange what?”
“So it’s true. Once there’s a connection, you keep helping us. Hello, I’m Prosecutor Park Suho.”
“Don’t say I’m a prosecutor.”
“Ah. Sorry.”
After Jihyuk’s firm reprimand, Suho lowered his head.
Dasol could feel that something important was happening. And that something had gone wrong.
She stood awkwardly, missing the chance to greet them.
“Arrange? What are you talking about?”
Jihyuk crossed his arms.
“The female officer you brought in through Detective Jo?”
“Speak clearly.”
“The female officer who was supposed to enter the room. She had to come back out immediately.”
“Why. Kim Dojong hasn’t even arrived yet.”
“She got rejected.”
“Rejected?”
Jihyuk narrowed his eyes.
“Because of Brian. That guy said she wasn’t his type.”
“…Seriously.”
Jihyuk rubbed his temple, visibly frustrated.
“How long has she been out?”
“Uh… about ten minutes…”
The junior prosecutor looked like he had clearly messed up.
“Ten minutes? Why are you only reporting this now?”
“I… I went to the restroom for a moment…”
“Haa…”
Jihyuk let out a deep sigh.
“I told you not to take your eyes off things.”
“I’m, I’m sorry.”
“We’ll deal with that later.”
He pressed his temple again, clearly in pain.
The junior prosecutor glanced at Dasol.
“I thought you were someone the club owner had arranged through that earlier connection… but your outfit seems a bit…”
Dasol looked down at herself following his gaze.
A white blouse and a beige flared skirt that reached her knees. Practical clothes she had bought because pet hair didn’t stick easily.
She had been dragged here by Yumi right after work—there was nothing she could do about it.
It was more suited for a traditional teahouse than a club. At least she wore proper shoes.
“Just a coincidence.”
“Senior, since things turned out like this, maybe we should ask her for help?”
“Help?”
Dasol perked up.
From the conversation, even though they kept denying it was undercover work, it clearly was.
She had seen enough movies to know.
Something like a film was unfolding right in front of her.
She clasped her hands and leaned in attentively.
Jihyuk’s gaze toward his junior turned sharp.
“Are you even hearing yourself? She’s a civilian. There are legal responsibilities and safety issues.”
“Senior, it’s an urgent situation. We can sort out procedures later—she just stands in one group, and when Kim Dojong arrives she presses a button.”
“No.”
Though Park Suho pleaded, Jihyuk remained coldly firm.
“There are also officers in Brian’s group. It should be safe.”
“We don’t have full information on the officers.”
“So what do we do? Kim Dojong will arrive soon. He’s a sensitive guy. Once he enters the room, no one else can go in.”
Dasol thought of a movie she had seen—We Will Definitely Catch Him.
A club room filled with women dancing on one side, men sitting around a table plotting.
Women screaming and running away like their only role.
If that was the case, it did seem safe enough.
There were plainclothes officers inside and more waiting outside.
Dasol looked toward the end of the hallway where the club entrance was.
Boom, boom.
The music seeped out even here, like a beating pulse.
If she went in, she would just be harassed again with “you’re pretty” lines.
“…How can I help?”
“Just don’t pay any attention.”
Jihyuk’s tone was blunt and distant. Dasol felt a bit embarrassed, but she didn’t back down.
“If there’s anything I can do—”
“Ms. Jin Dasol. This isn’t a joke. It’s not a field trip.”
Jihyuk’s eyes sharpened.
“I know that too, Prosecutor Jang. You said it’s not dangerous and that help is needed.”
Dasol retorted lightly, slightly defiant.
“This isn’t a movie.”
That hit the mark. And it stung.
Because she genuinely wanted to help.
“Civilians even help arrest criminals sometimes. I can do it. I want to help.”
