You Have Been Defended [EN]: Chapter 430

#431

2 AM.

“Huff, huff!”

Kang Min-jae woke with a jolt, gasping for breath as if he’d had a seizure.

Another nightmare.

He placed a hand on his chest, closing his eyes to calm his frantically beating heart, but it wouldn’t slow.

He tried to go back to sleep, but that too was futile.

Kang Min-jae squeezed his eyes shut, trying to suppress the thoughts erupting in his head, as if they threatened to explode.

But a sudden, inexplicable unease made him jump up.

He couldn’t stay still, pacing around the room.

Would a drink help him sleep?

He’d avoided alcohol, fearing dependency, but tonight felt different; he felt he *needed* a drink.

He went downstairs to the first floor.

It was a time when even Kang Kwan-woong, had he been alive, would have been quiet, but for Kang Min-jae, it meant something else.

The house is quiet.

Suffocatingly quiet.

After work, he’d sit with Kang Soo-il, chatting about the day, and Kang Soo-il would talk about his books and laugh. But when it was time for sleep, a wave of depression washed over Kang Min-jae, as if it had been waiting for him.

He couldn’t sleep well, and when he did, nightmares plagued him.

The dream of being chased was at least indirect, bearable, but sometimes the morning he sent his grandfather to the Yongin Cemetery [a memorial park], that day’s memory, played out in vivid detail.

In his dream, Kang Min-jae was blissfully unaware of what was to come.

He didn’t know his grandfather would be attacked at the Yongin Cemetery, and that being taken to Yongin Wooshin Hospital would be a point of no return.

Inevitably, his grandfather was attacked, and Kang Min-jae rushed to the hospital, witnessing his grandfather covered in blood.

In every one of those dreams, Kang Min-jae never managed to save his grandfather.

“……”

Kang Min-jae, downstairs, was heading to the kitchen when his gaze fell upon the study.

He stood transfixed before the study door.

It felt as if his grandfather might open the door any moment, but now even his scent was fading from the room.

He’d left it untouched, intending to visit the study when he missed his grandfather, but Kang Min-jae hadn’t even considered opening the door unless Kang Soo-il was with him.

Because seeing the empty chair was too painful, and he was afraid of truly feeling his grandfather’s absence.

And ultimately, the thought that *he* was responsible for his grandfather’s fate overwhelmed him.

Kang Min-jae placed a trembling hand on the door.

Yes, he knew it intellectually.

That Wooshin killed his grandfather, not him.

That Wooshin pulled the trigger, not him.

But the thought that he’d placed his grandfather in the path of Wooshin’s gun haunted him.

‘You can’t fall apart, especially now. Don’t drink. Don’t drink. Stay sharp.’

Kang Min-jae turned away from the kitchen.

He went back upstairs to his room.

This time, he went to his desk instead of his bed.

He sat down, opened his laptop, and began reading the documents piled to one side.

3 AM, 4 AM, 5 AM – his thimble-covered thumb [used for turning pages] didn’t stop.

The sound of pages turning continued, and around 5:40 AM, Kang Min-jae collapsed on his desk and closed his eyes.

“……”

When he opened his eyes again, it was 7:30 AM.

Time to get up.

He used to struggle to wake up without an alarm, but now even falling asleep was a battle.

Was it because he felt he couldn’t afford to be like this, that he needed to move quickly and tear Go Sang-joon apart to atone for his grandfather?

“Haa……”

He splashed water on his face and went to the bathroom to wash up.

He felt like he’d only slept for two hours, but he wasn’t sleepy.

He felt exhausted, but what could he do?

Better to work than lie in bed, forcing himself to try to sleep when it was impossible.

Kang Min-jae sighed, checking his bloodshot eyes in the mirror.

He couldn’t let the people at the company notice.

He didn’t want to worry them.

After applying artificial tears, Kang Min-jae hurried out of the bathroom.

There was no time to waste.

He needed to get ready for work.

“Min-jae, did you sleep well?”

Changing his clothes and coming downstairs, Kang Soo-il, who was reading the newspaper, looked up and asked.

“Yes.”

“But were you downstairs early this morning?”

“Yes? Why?”

“No, I thought I heard footsteps in my sleep. Have you been having trouble sleeping lately?”

“Ah, I woke up hungry and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I ate some ramen.”

“I thought you ate too little for dinner. Have a good breakfast. Let’s eat.”

Kang Soo-il smiled and got up from the sofa.

“But your eyes look a little bloodshot?”

“Ah, after eating ramen, my stomach felt bloated, so I didn’t go right back to sleep. I guess I didn’t get enough rest.”

“You need to manage your stamina if you’re going to work again.”

“I will.”

In fact, Soo-il probably knew.

He always offered plausible lies, but there was no way Soo-il, quick-witted as he was, wouldn’t see through them.

The reason he didn’t say anything might be because he understood too well.

That the pain of losing a family member was incomparable to anything else.

Kang Soo-il might be waiting for him to speak first, or waiting for him to regain control.

Every time he thought about it, he couldn’t escape the self-deprecation that he was a weakling, unable to even manage this.

“I’ll be back.”

“Why, eat more.”

“I’m full.”

“It’s just porridge. You’ll be hungry soon.”

“Either way, it’ll be lunchtime soon after I get to work.”

Kang Min-jae grabbed his briefcase and headed to the garage.

Kang Soo-il put down his spoon and followed him.

“Hyung [older brother/male friend], finish your meal.”

“I’m just seeing you off.”

“Am I a child?”

Kang Min-jae smiled and looked back at Kang Soo-il.

Kang Soo-il shook his head.

“No, you’re not.”

“Oh, you’re finally admitting I’m not a child for once?”

“You’re not a child, but we’re family. So I’m seeing you off.”

At Kang Soo-il’s words, Kang Min-jae felt a strange tingling in his nose, and rubbed it with his finger.

Then he opened the car door with the remote and approached the driver’s seat.

“I’m leaving.”

“Okay. Drive safe.”

“Yes.”

Kang Min-jae left the mansion behind and headed to work.

The drive to Gyodae [an area in Seoul], where his office was located, took 45 minutes.

After parking neatly, he was about to head up to his office when he was drawn to his reflection in the mirror.

His face, tight and expressionless, looked like he was in a terrible mood.

Kang Min-jae looked in the mirror and used two fingers to pull up the corners of his mouth.

Then he cleared his throat and adjusted his voice.

“Lawyer Kang! ……No. Hmm. Hmm. Lawyer Kang! Is this the right tone?”

Adjusting his voice made his expression seem even stranger.

Again, only his mouth was smiling, while his eyes remained unchanged.

Kang Min-jae smiled, crinkling his eyes.

“Good morning! ……I think this is it.”

“What is it? Kang, are you practicing your morning greetings?”

An uninvited voice came from the side.

Kang Min-jae reflexively looked over.

The elevator was stopped, and Cha Joo-han was standing in front of the open doors.

“Oh, lawyer……”

“Why don’t you give me the morning greeting you practiced?”

“Yes?”

“The morning greeting you practiced.”

“Oh……. G, good morning!”

Cha Joo-han looked at Kang Min-jae askance, then stepped into the elevator.

“Aren’t you coming down?”

“Yes?”

“Why is the buffering so long today? Aren’t you coming down?”

“Ah, ah. I have to go down. But where are you going, lawyer?”

“To buy cigarettes downstairs.”

“Ah……. Have a good one!”

Just as the elevator door was halfway closed,

The door reopened as if Cha Joo-han had pressed the open button.

Kang Min-jae, about to enter the office, turned to him, tilting his head in question.

“If you have to practice so hard to greet brightly, just don’t greet at all.”

Then Cha Joo-han pressed the close button.

* * *

“I don’t know how everyone else reviewed the documents, but Bong-joon and I have seen almost everything. We even cross-checked each other once.”

Choi Jong-hyun said, placing his briefcase on the desk.

I still had about 30 percent left, so I was surprised to hear that Choi Jong-hyun and Jo Bong-joon had finished cross-checking.

They had plenty of time, so I thought they could, but I was still amazed they’d reviewed such an enormous amount of documents so quickly.

“I still have about one-fifth left.”

At Kang Min-jae’s words, Secretary Oh blinked in surprise and asked,

“I think I’ve seen a little more than half now, but when did everyone make so much progress?”

“I also have about 30 percent left. Kang, you spend about the same amount of time as us, but you’re making faster progress.”

“I just wanted to beat Go Sang-joon quickly, so I worked hard, and that’s how it turned out.”

“Well, anyway. First, I’ll talk about some of the notable points that Jong-hyun and I found.”

With that, Jo Bong-joon plugged a USB drive into his laptop.

Did they even prepare a PPT [PowerPoint presentation]?

A remarkable development.

I didn’t know they were such diligent people.

“I’ve written a draft that can be used as broadcast material later, and I plan to properly consult Jung-woo when I use it. For now, just ignore the effects and fonts and focus on the content.”

“Yes.”

“First of all, if you look at the screen here, we received about 1,000 copies of personal information. As you all know, diplomatic relations between Korea and Japan were established in 1965, so it would have been difficult to travel between Korea and Japan before then. If the comfort women [women forced into sexual slavery by the Japanese military] incident had been happening since before 1965, it’s likely it was done through illegal routes. Anyway, our investigation was based on the immigration record data provided by the elder.”

“Yes.”

“The first instance of someone going to Japan in the data provided by the elder is in 1972. So, if we roughly take it as 40 years and blindly take the average, it’s estimated that about 25 people per year went to Japan under Wooshin’s leadership. I’ll give you the exact figures for each year later.”

Choi Jong-hyun and Jo Bong-joon’s investigation was quite thorough.

They had grasped everything, including the characteristics of each year, the gender ratio, and the regions people lived in before going to Japan.

It was amazing they’d done such a high-quality classification in such a short time.

“The House of Angels was established in 1989. From this time on, Wooshin prepared step by step, and it seems that around 1991, he stopped doing dangerous things like recruiting people with sweet talk such as getting them a job. He only sent three or four people for several years, and from 1991, he began sending about 10 children belonging to the House of Angels to Japan every year.”

“Did they send all 10 children from the House of Angels for the purpose of studying abroad?”

“No. From this time on, it becomes a bit more complicated. It seems there are more cases of forging passports in the names of children who died at Wooshin Hospital and whose deaths haven’t yet been reported, or who are likely to die, and secretly sending them to Japan. At most, only one or two children go out for the purpose of studying abroad per year.”

“Hmm……”

“On average, the gender ratio is maintained at about 7 to 3 or 8 to 2 for girls and boys. It goes up to 5 to 5 at the highest. But it’s a special case. This ratio of half and half doesn’t occur more than 5 times during the 40 years.”

“When I checked, the ages of the recruited people were up to the early 20s for women, and at most, they didn’t exceed the late teens for men. As you know, what we’ve confirmed through our investigations so far is that Wooshin is sending children to Japan to offer sexual favors. You said there were years when the ratio of boys increased, but what do you think this means?”

Jo Bong-joon seemed to think for a moment, then moved the slide to the next one.

“I was worried about whether to include it because it’s a very sensitive topic, but I think Cha will understand it if you look at the next page.”

What appeared on the next page was the blood type distribution of the people sent to Japan.

“Okay, the table at the top is the general blood type frequency of Koreans: O type 28%, A type 34%, B type 27%, AB type 11%. The sum is 100% because rounded values are included, but it’s not a figure that completely excludes rare blood types.”

“Rare blood types would have been rounded up above 0.5%, so they would be at most 2%.”

“That’s right. And the table below is the blood type frequency of people sent to Japan.”

O type 40%, A type 27%, B type 15%, AB type 10%, RH- A type 2%, RH- B type 2%, RH- O type 3%, RH- AB 1%, –D—D- 2 people.

Not only were the values significantly different from the general distribution, but the ratio of uncommon RH-negative blood types was high, and even –D—D-, a special blood type, was present in as many as 2 people.

When I looked it up, I found that as of 2006, there were 3 people in Korea with the –D—D- type and 110 people worldwide.

Then it should be assumed that many of the –D—D- types that existed in Korea had gone to Japan over the past 40 years.

“What is that –D—D-?”

Jo Bong-joon answered Secretary Oh’s question.

“It’s a special blood type. It’s even harder to find than RH-negative.”

“The RH-negative ratio is abnormally high, this……”

“So the conclusion we carefully came to is……”

Choi Jong-hyun and Jo Bong-joon looked at each other, seemingly embarrassed to say it.

But I think I’d come to the same conclusion as them.

That would be the same for everyone here.

I opened my mouth.

“It seems that organ trafficking is also taking place.”