My Calling Is Profiler [EN]: Chapter 302

“You can go anytime you want.”

“Then should I go?”

“Of course, the insurance company will have to be involved.”

“Insurance company?”

Park Do-joon grinned as he looked at him, then said leisurely, “You know that if you have an accident while racing, it’s insurance fraud, right?”

See, normally, accidents during illegal street races aren’t covered by insurance. Filing a claim after racing is technically insurance fraud. However, proving the racing is difficult, so insurance companies often pay out.

“The insurance company will just love that, right?”

If Park Do-joon asks the insurance company for accident records related to street racing, they’ll likely infer that an accident was caused by racing.

Because almost everyone involved in street racing has accidents.

In that case, he might have to pay back tens, or even hundreds, of millions of won [Korean currency, roughly equivalent to tens or hundreds of thousands of US dollars] in the worst-case scenario.

And, of course, face punishment for insurance fraud.

“Even if it’s not you, I think the insurance company can help.”

“Damn it!”

At those words, the guy frowned and ultimately stayed put. He clearly felt guilty about something.

“What do you want? I’ll tell you what I know, so let’s stop this, okay? Yes?”

“The guys who were racing in that neighborhood about four years and three months ago.”

“Are there only one or two guys who were racing there?”

Park Do-joon drew a firm line with the guy, who was trying to act nonchalant.

“That was a newly built road back then. It wasn’t even well-known yet. Plus, Changnyeong isn’t that big of a city.”

In other words, the road was new and in a rural area, so the racers who came all the way out there would be limited. And given the timing of the accident, it was relatively soon after the road opened. Unless someone was meticulously tracking road openings across the country, it would be a fluke to even know about it, let alone come all the way out there by chance.

“Aren’t there any guys who race *in* this neighborhood?”

“This neighborhood?”

“Yeah, these races usually happen regionally, right?”

And going on so-called ‘expeditions’ – traveling to other areas to race – is common.

“There’s no one in Changnyeong good enough to race. Changnyeong isn’t a big city; what kind of race would there be in a place where only grandpas live?”

Changnyeong isn’t even a city, it’s a county [a smaller administrative division]. There wouldn’t be anyone around who’d quickly hear about a new road and come racing.

“Unless it’s Daegu or Busan nearby.”

“Daegu or Busan?”

“There are some racing teams there. Those guys often go on expeditions.”

Daegu and Busan are large cities with complicated roads and lots of traffic signals, so racers often travel to surrounding areas.

“And Changnyeong is a good distance for those guys to go on expeditions.”

It’s definitely difficult to race in Daegu or Busan. Busan, especially, is notorious for dangerous driving; bragging about racing there is practically a death wish.

“Then, among the guys who were active then, were there any strange ones?”

“Strange guys? How would I know….”

He tried to play dumb, but when Park Do-joon smiled, his expression soured. Knowing his weakness, he had no choice but to pull out his cell phone.

“I’ll ask my senior.”

“Senior?”

“Four years ago, I hadn’t grabbed the flag yet….”

He wasn’t a leader yet, so he didn’t know much about the scene back then.

“Can I talk on the phone for a moment?”

“By all means.”

Park Do-joon waved his hand, giving him permission to make the call. He immediately dialed a number.

“Hey, hyung [older brother or male friend], it’s me. Do you know any kids who were racing around Daegu or Busan about four years ago? I don’t know. Why are you asking? Ah, there’s something. It’s a bit of a headache, I’ll tell you later. What? You don’t know because there are more than one or two?”

Park Do-joon interjected, seeing him look troubled.

“Ask if there are any guys who suddenly stopped racing around four years and three months ago.”

“Hey, do you know any guys who quit racing around four years and three months ago? Why are you so detailed? No, I’ll tell you later, hyung. The situation is a bit fucked up. What? There is? Blyde in Daegu? Ah, come to think of it, there were such guys in Daegu. I haven’t seen them since when? Why are you asking about those guys? There’s something…. It’s related to people’s lives. Yeah, I’ll tell you later.”

He hung up.

“Blyde is the only one who quit around that time.”

“Blyde?”

“I saw them a few times when I first started racing, but I haven’t seen them since some point.”

“Were they famous?”

“They were famous, in the Daegu area.”

Blyde was supposedly a street racing team created by the sons of wealthy families, like them. They even met with kids from Seoul and Gyeonggi a few times for races, so they knew each other’s names.

“But I haven’t had any contact with them for a while, so I completely forgot about them.”

“Hmm, what’s the reason?”

“How would I know? I’m not Blyde.”

“But seeing as you had contact with each other, they must be pretty well-off?”

“Yeah, well. They can’t even be compared to those Jaguar or cat guys [likely referring to other racing teams or individuals known for their cars].”

It was a team that modified proper sports cars and raced on public roads, making them one of the few provincial teams that could compete with teams from Seoul or Gyeonggi.

“Is it a long-standing team?”

“Well? I heard it was over ten years old.”

At those words, Park Do-joon stroked his chin and pondered. Lee Ji-soo, who was next to him, lowered her voice and asked, “Sunbae [senior colleague], is that related?”

“What?”

“The history?”

“I told you. Usually, these organizations don’t retire all at once.”

These organizations naturally undergo generational changes, with new members joining and older members leaving. People leave as they get older and reach their limits, while young blood eager to race keeps coming in.

“But if a group suddenly disappears, it means it had no choice.”

If they just gathered for a short time and everyone got old and left, the history wouldn’t be ten years old. At best, it would be about five years. If it’s ten years, it suggests an organization that has undergone at least one generational change.

“But they suddenly disappeared? Then it’s suspicious.”

It implies they broke up because something happened.

“So, do you know anything about those Blyde guys?”

“I don’t know. I was a complete newbie back then. Ah, I know one person. The hyung who was the leader back then.”

“Really? Do you know him well?”

“I only know his name.”

“So, what’s his name?”

Goo Deok-gong was the son of a fairly large hospital director in Daegu. Thanks to his family, he had a lot of money, and he’s currently studying as an intern at his father’s hospital.

“Sunbae, is this the right person?”

Lee Ji-soo asked, checking the name Goo Deok-gong. He didn’t seem like the type to cause an accident.

“He’s probably the one. Why?”

“No, according to the records, he seems like a person who only studies diligently. Could it be a different group?”

Park Do-joon snorted.

“No, these guys are the ones.”

“Why?”

“I told you. It’s strange that the group disbanded at the same time. That doesn’t just mean the leader left.”

The organization doesn’t collapse just because the leader leaves. Even if it’s a long-standing organization, there’s no reason to dissolve it just because there’s no leader.

“The dissolution of the organization requires the consent of all participants. If only some people decide to dissolve the organization, someone who disagrees is likely to continue the name.”

That might not be true for legally created organizations, but these aren’t legal. If someone claims to continue Blyde and inherit the name, even if the existing members deny it, there’s no way to stop them.

“But these guys agreed to dissolve the organization. Then what does that mean?”

“It means everyone knows about the accident.”

Only then did Lee Ji-soo realize why Park Do-joon was so sure, and she said with a serious face, “That’s right. Because they are aware of the accident, they want to avoid the risk.”

If they find out they killed someone in an accident, the police will track them down, and they could face punishment.

“Of course, the person who caused the accident will be punished, but that doesn’t mean that other people can avoid social punishment.”

This kind of accident is bound to be reported in the news. In a society already anxious about street racing, killing a family in an accident would become a major issue.

“And you know that people gather together.”

Especially in street racing, it’s unavoidable. No matter how much you modify an Avante [a common compact car in Korea] or a Centum [another car model], you can’t beat a genuine sports car.

Historically, there’s a record of modifying a compact car and beating a super car.

However, the compact car cost 5 million won, but the modifications cost 120 million won, so it was like pouring the price of a sports car into the modifications.

In other words, the person who modified the compact car wasn’t poor, just someone with a concept and a lot of money to throw around.

“In the first place, who would let you race a super car if you suddenly brought a compact car and asked to race? Furthermore, that record wasn’t made on public roads.”

That team didn’t race on public roads, but rented a race circuit. That means the person who modified the car was someone who had been interacting with them in the past.

“If you’re at a level to race with someone like Goo Deok-gong, you’re probably the sons of families who are active in the local area.”

And if this is exposed, they might avoid legal punishment, but they can’t avoid social criticism.

“So, I think they avoided it.”

“Is that so?”

“And it’s strange that Goo Deok-gong went to the military.”

“Yes? Why? Is it bad to have served in the military?”

“It’s bad if the timing is bad. The timing is ambiguous, right?”

Goo Deok-gong finished his fourth year of medical school and went to the military, exactly three months after the accident.

“Medical school is a six-year program. And from the fourth year, it’s the time when you have to study the most. No matter what others say, many things are forgotten when you go to the military.”

Some might dismiss the military as a break, but for someone studying, a year and a half is enough time to forget a lot of what they’ve learned.