The harsh echo of Judge Choi’s gavel still rang in my ears.It was a hollow, cracking sound that followed me out of the courtroom and down into the bowels of the Seoul Central District precinct. The air down here changed immediately. It grew stale and cold, carrying the sharp scent of industrial bleach mixed with old sweat and the faint, sour tang of vomit.I walked down the long corridor toward the maximum-security holding cells. Every step jarred the bullet graze on my right shoulder. The improvised bandage of gauze and athletic tape I had applied in the PC cafe bathroom was already soaked through. The stiff fabric pulled at my torn flesh, sending bright, searing spikes of pain down my arm and across my fractured ribs.I ignored it. I kept my face blank, my jaw set tight, as I handed my federal Bar Association badge to the guard stationed behind a thick pane of reinforced glass.The guard didn't say a word. He swiped the badge, his face a mask of complete indifference, and pressed a

I dropped to my knees on the cold concrete, ignoring the sharp, tearing fire in my right shoulder. I grabbed Baek Jun-seo by the lapels of his faded black windbreaker. His body was completely rigid. His spine bowed backward in an unnatural, terrifying curve, his shackled wrists straining against the heavy steel ring bolted to the table."Baek!" I yelled, my voice cracking. "Look at me! Stay with me!"He couldn't hear me. His bloodshot eyes were rolled completely back into his head, showing only the stark, terrified whites. A horrific, wet rattling sound tore from deep inside his throat as he fought for a single breath of air. Thick, bubbling white foam poured from his lips, spilling down his chin and staining the cuffs of my dark wool coat.The smell hit me like a physical strike. It was a sharp, piercing scent of crushed bitter almonds mixed with the sour tang of stomach acid.Cyanide.Someone had walked into this locked room the second I turned my back and forced a lethal dose of po

I sat with my back pressed against the cold, damp cinderblock wall, my knees pulled up slightly to relieve the tension in my fractured ribs. The precinct medic had paid a brief visit hours ago. He didn’t clean the sniper’s bullet graze on my right shoulder. He simply slapped a thick square of cheap, rough gauze over the torn flesh and wrapped it tightly with standard medical tape. It throbbed with a bright, searing fire every time I inhaled, sending sharp shocks down my arm.I looked down at myself. My dark wool coat and ruined dress shirt had been confiscated as evidence. I was wearing the standard-issue gray detainee uniform. The coarse fabric scratched against my skin. Just yesterday, Han Do-Woon had been wearing this exact uniform. The syndicate had a twisted sense of symmetry.The air in the cell smelled of old urine, concentrated bleach, and the copper tang of my own dried blood.Outside the heavy iron bars, the precinct was quiet. It was deep into the morning hours, that hollow

The heavy steel doors of Courtroom 12 pushed open, letting in a blinding flood of camera flashes and the chaotic roar of reporters.Two heavy-set bailiffs marched me down the center aisle. I wore the standard-issue gray detainee uniform. The coarse, stiff fabric scraped against the thick gauze taped over my right shoulder. Every step I took sent a sharp, burning jolt down my arm, a bright reminder of the sniper’s bullet. The steel handcuffs digging into my wrists were cold, forcing my hands to remain awkwardly pressed against my waist.The gallery was packed to capacity. Titan Law had ensured every major news network in Seoul was present to broadcast my final humiliation. The public watched me with disgusted, hostile eyes. They saw a disgraced lawyer who had taken a life to cover up a drug ring.They didn't see the truth. But I carried it with me.We reached the defense table. The bailiff unlocked my handcuffs, yanking the chains away with a harsh clatter. I rubbed my raw wrists, keep

He didn't look at the confessing murderer in the witness box. He glared directly at me, his eyes filled with a cold, desperate hatred."This court will not tolerate this circus for another second!" Choi shouted, pointing his broken gavel at my face. "The document you just presented—this supposed financial record—was never entered into formal discovery! It was obtained without a warrant, without state oversight, and without judicial approval!""It is exculpatory evidence!" I argued, taking a step toward the bench. The rough fabric of my gray detainee uniform scratched against my skin. "It proves the witness committed the crime I am being charged with!""It is fruit of the poisonous tree!" Judge Choi roared back, refusing to let me speak. "It is entirely inadmissible in this court! And since the defense has chosen to build its entire strategy on illegal, fabricated documents, this hearing is severely compromised!"The judge looked out at the flashing cameras in the gallery. He knew exac