My Calling Is Profiler [EN]: Chapter 476

## The Art of Tracking: A Different Perspective

What exactly does it mean to track someone?

Many believe it’s simply setting a target and relentlessly pursuing it. But Park Do-joon held a far more aggressive view.

“Tracking is about strangling your target.”

Yu In-hye frowned, struggling to grasp his meaning. She wasn’t a profiler, and her knowledge of tracking was minimal. While a competent NIS [National Intelligence Service] agent, her experience lacked practical fieldwork like tracking.

This was precisely why she’d been assigned to monitor Park Do-joon on this seemingly dead-end case.

“Strangling?” she asked, her voice laced with confusion.

“Yes. In tracking, you relentlessly pursue the target’s trail,” Park Do-joon explained. “But simply following footprints in hopes of catching up is slow and often leads to failure. Meanwhile, other crimes are being neglected.”

He paused, then continued, “That’s how tracking *used* to be – relying on forensic science to follow traces and apprehend criminals.”

“But a profiler’s tracking is different. It’s about *prediction*. It’s about suppressing the opponent’s actions, limiting their choices, and forcing them into predictable patterns.”

By doing so, they could identify suspects and anticipate their movements, preventing further crimes.

“And sometimes, this method yields results very quickly. Like this.”

Park Do-joon handed her four files, each detailing a suspect who had emerged in the past week. These individuals aroused suspicion within the organization, yet their tracks remained elusive.

“What they all have in common is that they began diligently working and concealing their discontent after the public investigation was announced.”

After the announcement, they suppressed their complaints and threw themselves into their work. Yu In-hye couldn’t help but voice her skepticism.

“Weren’t there more than just four people who started working harder? Most people did. Though, admittedly, increased work efficiency is another matter.”

Park Do-joon countered that a public investigation would naturally prompt those with something to hide to overcompensate. However, the report indicated a significant number of people increasing their efforts.

“That’s right. It’s a defense mechanism,” he conceded.

“Defense mechanism?”

“Even habitual complainers will fall silent and observe their surroundings when they sense danger. Remember North Korea’s reaction to the 9/11 terrorist attacks?”

“Um, I understand.”

Following the 9/11 attacks, North Korea, surprisingly, softened its stance toward the United States. The same regime that might have celebrated the destruction of New York suddenly expressed condolences and condemned terrorism.

“Why would they do that?” Yu In-hye asked.

“Probably out of fear.”

North Korea wasn’t responsible for the attacks, but they instinctively understood the danger of celebrating an attack on their perceived enemy. They wisely chose to remain silent.

“Even if you’re innocent, everyone becomes cautious when the atmosphere turns ominous. It’s not unusual or strange.”

“So, everything you’ve told me is a lie?” Yu In-hye challenged.

“Well, do I have any reason to reveal everything to you?” Park Do-joon retorted confidently. “I’m well aware that the NIS and you, in particular, don’t exactly like me.”

“…”

“The NIS organization has an inflated sense of its own abilities.”

They tend to view outsiders as incompetent. The problem, in Park Do-joon’s opinion, was that the NIS wasn’t as capable as they believed. Too often, political interests and other factors interfered with their priorities.

*This time, too.*

Yu In-hye shouldn’t have been assigned to this case. It was clearly a matter of Chinese espionage, and someone with relevant expertise should have been involved. Of course, such individuals existed, but when tracking proved difficult, they simply made excuses to avoid embarrassment.

“Besides,” Park Do-joon continued, “even if I explained my techniques in detail, would you even believe them?”

Yu In-hye remained silent. Her mission wasn’t to assist Park Do-joon but to monitor him.

“Okay, fine. I admit it. You don’t like the NIS, and we failed to track this suspect. But that still doesn’t explain why these four are the *most* suspicious.”

Two programmers and two scientists – individuals with access to sensitive data and the ability to cover their tracks.

“They don’t have any financial problems, and these two have never complained before.”

“Complaints can be suppressed, especially if the organization prohibits them,” Park Do-joon countered, handing her the programmers’ files.

“These two are highly skilled and financially stable, but they’re not without their grievances.”

“Why?”

“Look at their average annual salary: 120 million won [approximately $90,000 USD]. They designed the core program. How much do you think someone with their skills could earn elsewhere?”

“Probably 200 to 300 million won [approximately $150,000 – $225,000 USD].”

“Exactly. So why are they still here?”

“What?”

“You don’t think they’re here because they lack the skills to go elsewhere, do you?”

While 120 million won wasn’t a small sum, it wasn’t a fortune considering their expertise and dedication.

“They’re unmarried and don’t have close relationships with those around them.”

“That’s true.”

“So, stress builds up internally. And they need a reason to release that stress… or rather, to blame the cause.”

“Is that the research institute?”

“That’s part of it.”

The reality of spending more time at the institute than at home, coupled with the frustration of not being adequately recognized.

“But they’re being paid 120 million won!”

“I told you, they could earn over 200 million won elsewhere.”

But they were trapped.

“Moreover, these people are often tricked into coming here in the first place.”

“Tricked? Into joining Daeguk Group, of all places?” Yu In-hye asked incredulously.

Park Do-joon smiled, revealing his teeth. Was she truly ignorant, or was she feigning ignorance?

*She probably doesn’t know.*

Organizations like the NIS compartmentalized information, revealing only what was necessary for each individual’s role. This made it easier to dispose of them later if problems arose. She likely had no idea how they recruited these professionals, especially those involved in highly sensitive research.

“The Daeguk Military Research Institute is ostensibly a subsidiary of Daeguk Group, a private company. But in reality, it’s the core of the country’s defense industry. You don’t think the NIS would be involved in that?”

“Of course, they’d conduct background checks…”

“They do more than just background checks. They also recruit.”

“What?”

“The most common tactic is to appeal to their patriotism.”

They appealed to the patriotism of talented individuals, exaggerating the nobility of their potential contributions. Many people fell for it.

“And those who lack self-confidence or have poor social skills are particularly susceptible.”

“People who lack confidence?”

“There’s a saying often used when hiring in the IT industry: ‘Choose ugly people over handsome people, those who wear checkered shirts or t-shirts over those who dress well, and skinny or fat people over those in good shape.'”

“And it’s often true.”

Such individuals tended to be socially isolated, often living in their own world. Many geniuses exhibited behavioral patterns that others struggled to understand.

“If you have someone intelligent, introspective, and skilled, their shadow is also large.”

A sense of inferiority, a yearning to achieve greatness.

The NIS or the research institute approached individuals with such insecurities, gradually assigning them tasks while emphasizing patriotism.

Protecting the country, undertaking secret missions, and so on.

They persuaded them with stories that instilled national pride, and those with low self-esteem were easily swayed.

“You should know, shouldn’t you? You’ve experienced it yourself, haven’t you?”

Yu In-hye’s face flushed. It was precisely what had happened to her. She had volunteered to become an agent when the NIS recruited at her school. The recruiter had used the same appeals: patriotism, national pride, and dedication.

“But that fades over time. Nothing is eternal, not even loyalty. Especially as people mature.”

When young, fresh out of college, national pride and similar ideals held sway. But as one grew older and gained experience, reality set in.

“It’s one of the biggest problems in our country.”

They exploited patriotism to entice people to take on difficult and challenging roles, but failed to provide adequate rewards or ongoing support.

“Isn’t that right?”

Even officers faced the same issue. Their careers often revolved around demonstrating loyalty to superiors, leading capable individuals to become disillusioned and leave.

“There’s a saying often heard in the military, though you probably don’t know it because you’re a woman.”

“What is it?”

“Society is hell.”

The military is comfortable; society is hell. You’ll only regret leaving. Most people in the military had heard that saying countless times, regardless of rank.

“But the reality is the opposite.”

The military had become hell, with individuals brutally exploited under the guise of patriotism.

“They call it ‘military gaslighting’ these days.”

Gaslighting, the act of manipulating someone into questioning their sanity for personal gain, had spawned the term ‘military gaslighting,’ referring to the manipulation of soldiers and officers to exploit them as slaves.

“The NIS is probably the same. Even Yu In-hye has complaints, doesn’t she?”

“No, I don’t!”

“You don’t? Then you must be perfectly content with the job of monitoring me.”

“That’s…”

Yu In-hye was speechless. It wasn’t true. She was, in fact, filled with complaints about her assignment.