A news agency office is usually noisy.
The office of the Dongyeong Ilbo was no different.
Everyone was chatting loudly, sharing stories.
Yoon Minha, the reporter who had just returned from an assignment, was used to such scenes and naturally found her seat and sat down.
“Hey, I heard there was another Child Kidnapping Case this time?”
“Hasn’t that already been solved?”
“Hm? It’s been solved already?”
At the words of her colleague about the Child Kidnapping Case, Yoon Minha glanced over at them.
Apparently, the Child Kidnapping Case had occurred while she was out on assignment.
In the midst of that, for it to be solved already—another reporter spoke up, as if complaining about how slow the news was to reach them.
The first reporter, who had brought up the Child Kidnapping Case, looked puzzled at the others’ words.
It was an expression that seemed to say, “How could it be solved so quickly after I heard about it?”
For a kidnapping case, it’s typical for the Police Officers to mobilize and conduct searches, go through complicated procedures, and do things like a “007 operation.”
But if the case was solved before the reporters even caught wind of it… then the speed at which the Police Officers handled the Child Kidnapping Case truly deserved to be called “abnormal.”
Curiosity piqued in this situation, Yoon Minha leaned back slightly in her chair and listened to the others’ conversation.
They continued talking amongst themselves, paying no attention to Yoon Minha.
“They solved it in four, maybe five hours after it happened.”
“Wow, that’s fast. Was the kid unharmed?”
The first reporter to speak up now asked the key question.
Speedy resolution was good and all, but the most important thing in such cases was, of course, the victim’s safety.
No matter how fast the problem was solved, if the kidnapped child wasn’t safe, it would all be meaningless.
And depending on whether the child was safe or not, the direction of their articles would change.
[Police—Swift, but Incompetent.]
[How Long Will Police Use ‘At Least We Were Fast’?]
Headlines that criticize and blame the Police Officers would pour out.
Or—
[The Korea Police Rescue Child Unharmed in Just Four Hours]
[With Police Officers, Our Safety Is Guaranteed Even Today]
Supportive articles praising the Police Officers would come out, all depending on the condition of the child.
A staff member tapped his head with a pen and spoke.
“There hasn’t been an official announcement yet, so I’m not completely sure… but from what I’m hearing inside, the child’s safe, and there were two kidnappers. They caught them both, apparently?”
“Damn, what kind of nerve does it take to commit a child kidnapping in Korea, anyway?”
“Seriously. They’re bound to get caught fast. There’s CCTV everywhere, and especially with a Child Kidnapping Case, the police force would be all over it.”
One reporter sighed as if he couldn’t understand the criminals’ behavior.
Another nodded in agreement.
Korea is fundamentally a country with good public order.
Sure, incidents and accidents happen almost daily, so sometimes you can’t really feel it… but the crime rate is very low, relatively speaking.
Thanks to that, violent cases like this are rare.
If you look at other countries where violent cases break out every other day… there’s just no comparison.
So, when cases like fraud, serial crimes, or arson that draw public attention occur, the level of public interest is even higher.
Kidnapping was similar—a crime that naturally attracted the media’s attention, both because of public sentiment and because it was morally unforgivable.
Naturally, that meant the police would do everything they could to solve it as quickly as possible.
All available personnel would be mobilized.
With so many officers swarming, catching an unskilled kidnapper shouldn’t be hard.
“If they were caught in four or five hours, did they really know what they were doing? Probably just thoughtless idiots who wanted some quick money and kidnapped a kid.”
“Yeah… it must have been a real spur-of-the-moment crime.”
Listening to her colleagues’ conversation, Yoon Minha chuckled to herself.
A spur-of-the-moment crime? That’s nonsense.
This isn’t just anything—it’s kidnapping.
That’s a crime that absolutely requires planning.
There can be kidnappings where the target isn’t specifically chosen, but… even then, it’s not unplanned.
A detailed plan is made, and they snatch up an unspecified person as if hunting.
For a Crime Department Reporter to call kidnapping a spur-of-the-moment crime… are they idiots?
As she thought that, her colleagues continued.
“But still, can kidnapping really be a crime of impulse…?”
“It doesn’t make sense, but they did get caught in just a few hours…”
“They just weren’t meticulous enough.”
The reporter who first brought up the Child Kidnapping Case fell silent for a moment.
With a faint laugh, he continued.
“Actually, I heard it was a Sergeant who caught the kidnappers this time.”
“A Sergeant?”
At those words, which were impossible to ignore, Yoon Minha froze and listened even more intently.
Meanwhile, her colleagues kept talking.
“Well… if that’s true, then the criminals were either totally incompetent or it was really an impulsive crime. It has to be one of those.”
“Still, whether it was impulsive or they were just sloppy, it’s impressive if a Sergeant caught child kidnappers.”
“Sergeants these days are really something. Oh, and you know the recent attempted child murder case? There’s a rumor a Sergeant caught the suspect for that one, too. Not sure exactly who…”
“Unbelievable. Sergeants who catch both kidnappers and attempted murderers? If our country had nothing but those Sergeants, there wouldn’t be any criminals left by now.”
Yoon Minha, after a brief moment of consideration, brushed back her brown hair.
She didn’t know exactly which Sergeant had solved this Child Kidnapping Case.
But if it was the person she thought it was…
“This is going to be huge, no matter what.”
She already had some draft articles planned, and some basic outlines written.
If she broke this story, it would be a definite hit—but the problem was the promise she’d made.
She had agreed to publish the story on the upcoming weekend.
Now it was only Monday evening.
The week had just begun… Could she wait?
Honestly, if she could be certain that none of the other reporters would expose the Sergeant’s identity before then, she could wait.
But without that guarantee… it was nerve-wracking.
“I’ll just… wait a little longer.”
After some internal conflict, she finally decided to wait a bit more.
But who knew how long her patience would last?
***
Lee Jaehyun took Tuesday off entirely.
He woke up in the afternoon, and the only thing he did was meet with Se-re-hen to fulfill the favor he owed her for helping stop the recent Choi Daehyun kidnapping case.
In other words… all he did was take her to the Convenience Store in front of his house and buy her ice cream.
With that, Wednesday arrived, but Lee Jaehyun couldn’t immediately return to work.
Something had come up.
Lee Jaehyun, feeling awkward in his uniform after so long, straightened out his attire as he looked himself over.
He lightly slapped his cheek and headed toward the Police Station in front of him.
He shivered as he walked.
Wooooong.
The smartphone in his pocket vibrated noisily.
With a somewhat stiff motion, Lee Jaehyun took out his phone and checked the caller.
The name on the screen: Yoon Minha.
She was a reporter from the Dongyeong Ilbo.
To call at this timing—did she know something?
With that thought, Lee Jaehyun answered the call.
“Yes, hello.”
— Ah, hello. Is this Sergeant Lee Jaehyun? This is Yoon Minha from Dongyeong Ilbo.
“Yes, Reporter. It’s been a while.”
— Yes, well… it’s been a while. Um, I’ve heard some rumors lately, you see?
Hearing Yoon Minha’s words, Lee Jaehyun suppressed a smirk.
Judging by her reaction, she didn’t have any solid information yet.
Even so, she had called—she must have wanted to probe Lee Jaehyun a bit.
Pretending to know nothing, Lee Jaehyun pressed the receiver closer to his ear and put on a curious expression.
“What kind of rumor?”
— That the recent Child Kidnapping Case was solved by a Sergeant…
“A rumor is just a rumor, isn’t it?”
— In my experience, for a rumor to get this big, there has to be something to it. Isn’t it really you, Sergeant Lee Jaehyun?
Yoon Minha was asking in a subtle voice, but it was obvious she was already convinced.
Lee Jaehyun chuckled as he replied.
“Haha… No, it’s not me.”
— Oh, come on. There’s even video footage going around. Even though it only shows the side of your face, the way you stand, your well-proportioned body—it’s obviously you, Sergeant Lee Jaehyun.
Yoon Minha was pressing him to tell the truth, but Lee Jaehyun just found the situation amusing.
By the sound of her voice, even if it really wasn’t him, Yoon Minha probably wouldn’t believe it.
“Is that so?”
— Yes, everyone’s heard the rumors by now, even if no one’s figured out the identity for a proper article yet. I’m afraid it’ll break before the weekend at this rate.
Yoon Minha grumbled.
Lee Jaehyun knew very well what she wanted, so he smiled lightly and spoke.
“All right. Then… you already have an article prepared, don’t you?”
— Of course.
Yoon Minha answered immediately, as if it was obvious.
There was a subtle hint of anticipation in her voice, wondering if she’d get the answer she wanted.
She’d already prepared most of the article about Lee Jaehyun.
The only reason she hadn’t released it to the world was Lee Jaehyun himself.
Because he had asked her not to publish it yet, Yoon Minha had been holding onto all her materials and not releasing them anywhere.
Until now, Lee Jaehyun hadn’t wanted to draw attention to himself.
But not anymore.
“Go ahead and break the story.”
There was a surprised sound on the other end of the line.
Yoon Minha seemed genuinely taken aback by his words.
She’d thought there must be some reason for him to wait until the weekend, since he’d made her promise, but he’d accepted much more easily than expected.
Whatever the reason, Yoon Minha quickly replied in a bright voice.
— Oh! I’ll wrap it up nicely and make sure it gets a great release. Thank you, Sergeant Lee Jaehyun.
Like a cat unable to resist the fish in front of it, a reporter can’t help but pounce on a good story.
Until now, she’d only been able to watch from the sidelines.
Now that restriction was gone.
Of course she’d be excited.
“Oh, and Reporter.”
— Yes?
“I’m not a Sergeant anymore.”
— …What?
There was confusion on the other end.
Yoon Minha asked what he meant, flustered.
Lee Jaehyun just smiled slightly and ended the call.
He’d told her everything she needed to know—the rest was up to Yoon Minha.
With hurried steps, Lee Jaehyun entered the Police Station.