My Calling Is Profiler [EN]: Chapter 376

Setting the Bait

Baek Man-yeon was arrested, but the case wasn’t over. She simply refused to talk. Or rather, she did talk, but only to assert her twisted sense of conviction.

“So what if those bastards are dead? Do you have any proof that I killed them?”

“So? No bodies have been found, right? If there’s no body, isn’t there no case?”

“I think those bastards deserved to die anyway. They’re just trash that eats away at the world.”

Despite numerous interrogations, she not only denied everything but also justified her actions. Given her background as a former police officer, she understood investigative procedures and how to resist pressure, making her a difficult subject.

“This is driving me crazy,” Kim Si-deok muttered, chewing on the unlit cigarette in his mouth. He clearly wanted to light it, but couldn’t indoors.

“Still nothing?”

“No answers,” Kim Si-deok replied, shaking his head at Park Do-joon’s question.

“Not even if we charge her with murder?”

“You know it too. In this situation, a murder charge won’t hold up.”

“That’s true.”

No body, no murder. That’s the general rule. But it’s also misleading. In reality, without a body, the police typically treat the case as a missing person, not a homicide. However, if there’s compelling evidence of death, they can pursue a murder charge. And the snuff film constituted compelling evidence.

“The problem is there’s no evidence directly linking her to the creation or distribution of it.”

Baek Man-yeon remained steadfast, claiming she bought the tape from the store, just like any other customer.

Of course, they could still suspect her and indict her for murder. But Baek Man-yeon would then argue that the video wasn’t real, that it was staged.

“The problem is that there’s a possibility that it’s true – that it’s a fake.”

Some snuff films these days are produced with such meticulous detail that they appear genuine. When this particular snuff film was first discovered, even the police initially suspected it was fake. Only after careful analysis did they determine its authenticity.

That’s how challenging it had become to distinguish between real and fake snuff films.

“What does the store owner say?”

“Joo Gwang-dae, that bastard?”

“His name was Joo Gwang-dae?”

“Yeah, Joo Gwang-dae. He’s singing the same tune. It’s like they planned it all in advance.”

He claimed he simply downloaded it from the internet and sold it, knowing nothing about its contents. His lawyer was building his defense around this claim.

“The problem is that there was a computer in the back of his office with access to the dark web [a hidden part of the internet often used for illegal activities].”

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s even a download history. These bastards, they’ve prepared an alibi just in case. Those sons of bitches.”

Because of this, the judge was likely to accept his explanation as plausible.

“Huh? What happens then?”

Lee Ji-soo tilted her head, confused.

“Maybe the judge will believe him. And in the worst-case scenario, he’ll only be charged with distribution of obscene material.”

“What? This is harboring a criminal… Oh, never mind.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem. There’s no legal obligation to report a crime.”

In South Korea, there’s no legal duty to report a crime you discover. If there were, people might fear retaliation. Of course, there’s the crime of harboring a criminal. But unlike concealing a crime, you don’t have to worry about retaliation once the criminal is arrested, and most people who know the criminal are often acquaintances.

“In this case, officially, those guys don’t know the criminal.”

They claim to have downloaded it from the dark web, and there’s a record of it. There’s even a Bitcoin transaction history.

“So they don’t know the criminal.”

Moreover, they claim they didn’t know the snuff film was real, so there’s no reason to report it.

“They probably planned it all out a long time ago. Baek Man-yeon helped them.”

“That crazy bitch,” Lee Ji-soo cursed under her breath. While she knew some police officers deserved criticism, the idea of kidnapping and killing innocent people and then helping to cover it up was beyond her comprehension.

“Realistically, there’s no way to take down those two. Not as of now,” Kim Si-deok admitted. They lacked the evidence to connect them directly to the crimes.

“I’m sorry to keep asking, but is there anything we can do?” Kim Si-deok looked at Park Do-joon with a flicker of hope. If anyone could find a way, it was Park Do-joon. He was, after all, a profiler, someone who could supposedly read people’s minds and catch them in their lies.

“It will be impossible to get those two to talk in the current situation.”

They’ve been preparing their defenses for too long.

In fact, they even kept a computer specifically for this purpose, downloading the content they had created with their own money, just in case they were caught.

Of course, even if they used Bitcoin, it was still their own money, so there was no financial loss.

“In dramas, they pit them against each other to make them talk.”

“That’s the effect of a loss game between the two.”

“Loss game?”

“Yes, it’s about comparing who has the greater potential loss and targeting the one with the smaller loss.”

In other words, in a situation where one person could receive a 10-year sentence and the other a 1-year sentence, they use deception and persuasion to get testimony from the person facing the 1-year sentence. A 1-year sentence could potentially lead to a suspended sentence, which is practically the same as being released.

“But this isn’t a loss game.”

“Ugh.”

Kim Si-deok had to concede.

“That’s true.”

For a loss game to work, there needs to be a disparity in the potential punishments.

“But this is a dead end for everyone, no matter how you look at it,” Lee Ji-soo added. In a case like this, the death penalty seemed inevitable. Even if they cooperated, they’d still face a life sentence.

The problem is that while South Korea has the death penalty on the books, it’s rarely carried out. So, it’s essentially the same as a life sentence anyway.

“And lowering the sentence further is almost meaningless.”

Once lowered, the maximum sentence is 50 years. South Korean law has a maximum sentence of 50 years.

“Considering their ages, it’s all the same.”

Baek Man-yeon is in her late 20s. So, 50 years means she’ll be almost 80 when she gets out of prison.

“Well, Joo Gwang-dae is forty-six now.”

“At that age, he’ll 100% die in prison.”

If his family cares, they might arrange a brief release just before he dies. It’s not a full release, but there’s a system where the government shows leniency so he can face death in front of his family.

“But realistically, that’s going to be difficult.”

“It’s difficult.”

No family would accept a person who kidnapped, tortured, and killed a dozen people to make snuff films. Not even after 50 years.

After 50 years, his wife is likely to be dead. Would his child accept him? It’s hard to imagine. To accept him, the family needs to know the truth.

“I wonder if that’s the case? Is Joo Gwang-dae married?”

“He has one child. A daughter, she’s eight years old now.”

“Then she’ll be even more abandoned.”

“Why?”

“Would you accept it if you were her? You need the support of other family members to accept it, right?”

“Ah!”

When Joo Gwang-dae is paroled to die, his daughter will be grown up, married, and have children of her own.

“The question is, will she tell her husband and in-laws about this when she gets married?”

“She won’t.”

She can’t. In a normal family, they would avoid marrying into such a family, let alone associating with them.

“What if she gets married without knowing and then has a child? Will she say to her child, ‘Your grandfather was a notorious murderer who killed a dozen people’?”

Of course not.

“No one will accept him after 50 years.”

And no matter how close death is, the government won’t parole him unless someone accepts him with a firm will.

“In fact, there are many cases where even the body is refused when they die in prison,” Kim Si-deok nodded in agreement. This is especially true if the crime is heinous and has caused harm to the family.

“So they won’t talk no matter how much we negotiate.”

No matter who talks, both of their lives will be ruined. On the other hand, if no one talks, both of them will live and potentially get out without any further punishment.

“Then is selling the tape the only answer?” Kim Si-deok asked, his face etched with reluctance.

“Probably.”

“This is driving me crazy.”

Kim Si-deok’s worry was simple.

“We can’t filter out people who are just doing it as a hobby, can we?”

“We should at least try to narrow it down to a small number.”

In fact, very few people use 8mm tapes these days. But almost none doesn’t mean none at all. Who uses records these days, but surprisingly, there are a small number of record enthusiasts, and in fact, some people still produce a very small number of records for those record enthusiasts.

They like the unique sound and sensibility.

“Tapes definitely have lower quality compared to recent ones.”

There are definitely people who like that unique sensibility.

“It’s highly likely that the criminals will use ‘Woojoo’ [short for ‘Our Neighborhood Used Deals,’ a popular online marketplace], but that’s not certain either.”

Woojoo is an abbreviation for ‘Our Neighborhood Used Deals,’ which is a popular app these days. Originally, an internet cafe called ‘Used World’ was famous, but that cafe has now become completely commercial, so Woojoo is the trend these days.

The problem is that most people who use it are young people. Older people don’t know much about Woojoo.

“But based on profiling so far, it doesn’t seem like the criminal is in the younger age group.”

“That’s right. Well, to be exact, it’s only some of them.”

So even if they use Woojoo, there’s no guarantee that they’ll be able to catch them 100%.

“But it won’t be a complete loss. And from the beginning, bait is just bait. So there’s no reason to honestly put out the goods.”

At Park Do-joon’s words, the two tilted their heads, curious. He was a professional profiler, after all.