My Calling Is Profiler [EN]: Chapter 301

# What a Load of Racer Bullshit

Street racing naturally attracted significant media attention. Moreover, while typical street racing busts might involve around twenty arrests, this time, the police impounded thirty vehicles and apprehended nearly fifty individuals.

“What a complete mess. Utter chaos.”

Park Do-joon clicked his tongue, observing the scene in the small rural police station, now overflowing with the apprehended.

“Three unlicensed drivers, four with suspended licenses, twelve at the level of drunk driving suspension, and eight at the level of drunk driving revocation. Plus, there are still five cars in the reservoir…”

Naturally, reporters swarmed the station. The street racers grabbed at them, whining about their supposed unfair treatment.

“No, we’re being treated unfairly! This is due to excessive police enforcement!”

Initially, the reporters were swayed by this claim. After all, the extensive crackdown had led to car accidents and even some vehicles ending up in the reservoir, making it seem like someone could have been seriously hurt. However, their argument… no, their excuse, fell apart in less than twenty minutes.

“What excessive enforcement? We only blocked the escape routes and approached slowly at about 30 kilometers per hour (approximately 19 miles per hour).”

“Huh?”

“We have video evidence.”

The police chief confidently presented the dashcam footage from that time. Indeed, the police had only blocked the escape routes and moved in slowly, while the racers crashed on their own, desperately trying to flee.

“These bastards were doing this without any traffic control. If it weren’t for us, someone could have really died.”

The reporters, who initially hoped to criticize the police’s overzealous pursuit, quickly changed their tune and began tearing into the self-proclaimed racers for their drunk driving offenses.

“You saved us.”

The police chief shook his head, relieved. If it hadn’t been for Park Do-joon, they might have chased after them at full speed with sirens blaring.

If that had happened, he would have been responsible for the resulting accidents and injuries.

“Reporters are predictable.”

They want whatever is the biggest issue. Street racing is an issue, but a multi-car pileup caused by reckless police pursuit is a bigger one, so it wasn’t hard to predict they would spin it that way.

“But what’s the connection between these guys and Oh Sung-hoon’s death? Were they involved that day?”

“I wish, but probably not. However, street racers know each other, so we might get something if we squeeze them.”

“But that was four years ago.”

Would these guys know anything about the racers from four years ago? Ji Sang-hwan was skeptical.

“Those who share information will know.”

“Share?”

“There are limited locations for street racing.”

Places with a lot of traffic are unsuitable for racing. Not that they care about the safety of others. Racing in crowded areas leads to police reports.

“So, racers generally share information. And they tend to stick together.”

“Stick together?”

“As we saw in this incident, these guys are obsessed with showing off. You could say they’re full of themselves.”

Cars like old Avantes [compact car model] and Sephias [mid-size car model] are twenty… no, almost thirty years old, and they’re practically scrap metal, not even worth trading in.

Yet, they modify them as they please and praise each other for being fast.

“No matter how much you modify them, no matter how skilled you are, you can’t beat science.”

There’s a story about an electric car from a certain company entering one of those races and completely dominating.

“And those who like to show off often form gangs. And those gangs operate according to a kind of hierarchy. Unless it’s been ten or twenty years, there’s a good chance that gang is still around, even after four years.”

“Aha!”

They don’t race individually, fueled by competition. In ‘Initial D’ [a popular Japanese street racing manga and anime], the protagonist was portrayed as a lone wolf to highlight him… but racing is fundamentally about competition and demonstrating one’s superiority.

“Pure racing, just enjoying the speed? Of course, there might be guys like that. But even those guys can’t race unless they join a gang.”

You can’t just post online every day, asking for a race anytime, anywhere, because those posts will get you arrested.

So, they create their own groups and organizations, competing within them and against other groups to satisfy their desires.

“So, if we squeeze them, we’ll find the guys who were active here.”

Noh Hyung-jin grinned.

“And it’ll be one of those groups.”

“What the fuck? So what if we sped a little? There aren’t even any cars around here anyway.”

“Sped?”

Lee Ji-soo tilted her head, not understanding the term.

“Ah, in this industry, they sometimes use ‘sped’ to describe driving fast.”

“Oh, is that so? But judging by the looks of it, he doesn’t seem like he’s going to talk.”

Lee Ji-soo said worriedly, looking at the self-proclaimed Jaguar, whose real name was Jo Bung-dang, complaining irritably from beyond the interrogation room.

“Of course, he won’t talk. The punishment for street racing is too light in Korea.”

Street racing is essentially playing with other people’s lives. What is a public road, anyway? It’s a road for public use. It’s a space that other people use. So, doing so-called racing in such a place means you don’t care about other people’s lives. But under current law, the punishment for street racing isn’t very severe.

The current law stipulates a maximum of two years in prison or a fine of up to five million won (approximately $4,000 USD), but prison sentences are rare, and most cases result in fines, so they have nothing to fear.

“So, they’re confident.”

Because at most, they’ll get a fine.

“The worst-case scenario is probably just a driver’s license revocation, right?”

“Then why bother catching them if they’re not going to talk?”

“Why would they talk?”

“Huh?”

Park Do-joon chuckled at Lee Ji-soo’s words.

“I guess you still lack experience.”

“If they don’t talk, how do we investigate?”

“Just because we’re profilers doesn’t mean we have to find out through the criminal’s mouth. We can just investigate their phones.”

“Huh? Their phones? Is that possible?”

“It’s possible. Right now, those guys are claiming they weren’t racing, right?”

“That’s right.”

They have no choice. They’re claiming they weren’t street racing. The reason is that insurance doesn’t cover racing.

And with dozens of vehicles involved in accidents, and some even submerged in water, resulting in total losses, they’ll suffer enormous financial losses if they don’t get insurance coverage.

“Basically, guys caught racing always claim they weren’t.”

That’s how they keep their insurance valid.

“And we have to submit evidence that they did race.”

“That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Then, of course, a warrant for their phones will be issued.”

“Aha!”

Naturally, their phones will contain data about the racers. These days, phones are more than just for calls; they also serve as diaries and schedulers.

“And these days, kids prefer texting over talking or calling.”

Naturally, just a warrant for their texts and messages will reveal who the racing gang members are.

“And it’s not difficult to track down the guys who have been active here the longest.”

Most criminals don’t talk. Knowing that, profilers need to be well-versed in investigative methods other than confessions.

“So, if we shake them down, something will come out.”

And he thought that eventually, they would find out who caused the accident.

Ji Sang-hwan immediately started the investigation, and as Park Do-joon predicted, the warrant was easily issued. And after checking the oldest race-related messages, the most suspicious guys were discovered.

The so-called ‘Gwanggyo Racers,’ a racing team based in Gwanggyo, Suwon [cities in South Korea]. They were just a group of rich kids, but still.

“We’ve never raced there.”

Of course, they flatly denied ever racing there.

“Of course, you would.”

Park Do-joon nodded. In fact, there’s no evidence that they raced there. The conversations didn’t even mention the area.

‘Of course not. They’re not in the same league.’

That was expected. Because their name is Gwanggyo Racers.

Gwanggyo is a neighborhood located in Suwon, and it’s the most affluent area. Even comparable to Gangnam in Seoul [a wealthy district in Seoul], there’s no way racers from such an expensive neighborhood would associate with guys driving old Avantes and Sephias.

‘The performance difference is enormous.’

These guys drive at least imported cars, and the latest models at that. Frankly, even stock cars would crush those old cars. Nevertheless, Park Do-joon singled them out for a simple reason.

The oldest conversation record was four and a half years ago. That means the Gwanggyo Racers are a fairly old group, and they would have known the guys who were active back then.

“Then why would they have your phone numbers?”

“I don’t know. Why would we associate with such cheap cars?”

The leader of the Gwanggyo Racers said, looking dumbfounded. He knew that the Jaguar guys were too low-class to compare to them.

“At most, we might have talked about whether there were any decent street racing spots.”

‘He’s got a rough idea.’

In fact, the conversations showed that they weren’t asking to race together, but rather asking for recommendations for good spots, and even that was only once or twice a year.

“We didn’t even actually race there, so why do you keep questioning us? And isn’t this illegal?”

“It’s not illegal since we haven’t indicted you. Strictly speaking, we called you in for cooperation.”

“Then I’ll leave?”

At those words, Park Do-joon leaned back leisurely in his chair.

A Profiler by Trade