TFN C41

Chapter 41

“Team Leader.”

Cheongmun looked over the team members gathered in the conference room.

“Has it been confirmed?”

“Yes.”

The rumors that had begun at dawn had spread endlessly, twining one after another until no one could distinguish truth from fabrication.

Some even went so far as to claim that the Special Bureau had conducted experiments involving dungeons, failed, and that the monsters used in those experiments had killed a hunter.

Others speculated that the guild to which the hunter had belonged had orchestrated a contract killing. There were also whispers that because the deceased hunter had been too outspoken while climbing the Tower, Cheongmun had silenced him personally.

A single jest, once exaggerated and passed along, was repeated in other posts, and when that cycle repeated enough times, it appeared to some as a fact waiting to be verified.

“Why would there be smoke if there were no fire?”

“There must be something going on for all this to happen.”

They themselves had sparked the flames, and now demanded that the Bureau both extinguish the fire and explain its cause.

Among the noise, the same person who had commented on the post Cheongmun had earlier shown Wonhyo—someone who wrote as though an insider—continued to chatter about Wonhyo.

“That shaman? Turns out he’s actually an Awakened. Remember the talisman that was broadcasted that time? He supposedly made it himself. What if he’s the real culprit?”

Cheongmun tilted his head slightly as he read the latest comment.

“Shall we delete the comments?”

At the deputy team leader’s suggestion, Cheongmun shook his hand.

“It’s better if the poster deletes them themselves. If the administrator deletes them, it will be seen as suppression. But if the poster removes them, suspicions may remain, yet there will be no confirmation.”

In the first case, curiosity would only draw in more spectators; in the second, doubts might linger but the matter could not easily be inflamed further.

“They’ll know that trying to reignite extinguished sparks could bring punishment under the Personal Information Protection Act. So rather than resist, they will bow their heads.”

Since the law could also punish any third party who circulated personal information obtained illegally, there was no need to concern themselves with bystanders.

“By the way, did you already know who it was?”

The deputy, who had been briefed in advance, seemed surprised at the certainty in Cheongmun’s tone.

Cheongmun looked toward the windows of the conference room. Beyond the blinds lay the offices of the Special Bureau’s investigative teams.

“There were thirteen people working in the office that day. No need to look far.”

It was not Team 1. And among those left in Team 2, none were the type to spread rumors in this way.

“Who would have thought that Assistant Officer Jeong Gyohwa of Team 3 would stir up such a storm?”

A familiar face came to mind—the one who scurried after any internal accident like a mouse darting in and out of holes.

“But the information about Yun Wonhyo wasn’t obtained illegally.”

Assistant Manager Kim, who had the faintest personal connection with the man, sighed as he spoke.

Cheongmun’s gaze chilled.

“Leaking personal information repeatedly without the subject’s consent is already grounds for punishment under stalking laws.”

His fingers tapped against the table.

“And considering he spread this while knowing it concerned an ongoing investigation, there’s a possibility he has illegally leaked information from other cases as well. Should we not confirm this?”

Once trust is broken, it cannot be restored without leaving scars.

“The Audit Department has contacted us, so you’ll have confirmation soon.”

The deputy muttered with a somewhat downcast expression.

Disagreements sometimes sparked quarrels, but at the end of the day, the Special Judicial Police Team was a single body. They were colleagues belonging to the same organization.

Even those who tipped off the press usually restrained themselves when embargoes were in place. This, however, was not even leaked through a media outlet.

“The Audit Team has arrived.”

Cheongmun rose from his seat.

“There are documents to hand over. I should go meet them.”

The members of Team 1 exchanged glances and nodded.

“We’ll return to our office as well.”

They had yet to hear back on the evidence they had submitted for analysis the day before, but there were mountains of other cases demanding attention.

“No, really. What did I do wrong to deserve this?”

No sooner had they stepped into the hallway than a sharp voice rang in their ears.

“I have informed you that you are to cease all ongoing work and step aside.”

The Audit Office staff member’s voice was hard as stone as he ordered Team 3’s members away from their desks.

The Team 3 leader swallowed nervously.

“But—what exactly did I do wrong?”

“You have already been informed that this is a field audit regarding violations of duty.”

As the staff member addressed the implicated employee, he noticed Cheongmun and nodded politely. Cheongmun returned the greeting with a slight nod.

Meanwhile, another Audit Team officer, hand on the computer, extracted data in an instant. Their ability was no different from forensic investigation, pinpointing illegal activity.

“Seventy-eight unauthorized document accesses. Of these, twenty-three were embargoed materials leaked to the press.”

“What?”

The Team 3 leader, who had been watching with growing anxiety, exclaimed in shock. But none of the Audit Team spared him a glance.

“Hand over your phone.”

“What? This is—this is my personal property!”

When Assistant Officer Jeong Gyohwa struggled desperately to keep his phone, even attempting to use a skill, Cheongmun intervened. A cube flew forth, instantly expanding to imprison him.

Fury burned in Jeong’s eyes as he glared at Cheongmun.

“Team Leader Lee! This is surveillance of staff! Why are you checking my personal phone?”

As Cheongmun tilted his head and stepped closer, a talisman slipped from his chest pocket, floating in midair.

“What is this?”

For the first time, the face of the Audit Team officer, who had remained calm throughout, showed a trace of surprise.

Cheongmun paid no mind to the commotion around him and examined the talisman that had leapt forth to protect him.

It was the very talisman Wonhyo had first shown him.

The one said to ward off misfortune and calamity.

The one given to him for protection, because it could touch upon the energy of vengeful spirits.

A hollow laugh escaped Cheongmun.

“Deputy Team Leader. Place Assistant Officer Jeong Gyohwa under arrest.”

“Team Leader! You’re doing this as revenge because I posted on Hunternet, aren’t you? What’s so wrong about that?”

Unprompted, as though his own conscience betrayed him, Jeong’s tone turned sharp as he hurled accusations at Cheongmun.

“All I did was add a few words to what others were already saying! And for that you’re imposing personal punishment—”

“Assistant Officer Jeong. Do not demand equality in illegality. And did you already forget you attempted to use an offensive skill on the Audit Team just moments ago? You have already committed crimes. Your arrest is to uncover what else you are hiding.”

Cheongmun’s voice was as cutting as a blade.

“What are you trying to find?”

“Assistant Manager Kim.”

He called out to the staff member observing nearby.

“Check together with Officer Nam whether Jeong Gyohwa is in possession of items similar to the cursed object I submitted for analysis yesterday.”

Team 1 members, momentarily bewildered by Cheongmun’s sudden order of arrest, widened their eyes.

The cursed item was tied to an as-yet-unrevealed suspect.

They did not understand how it connected to Jeong, but they placed their trust in the talisman that hovered in the air, protecting Cheongmun.

“Assistant Officer Jeong. Leave your phone with the Audit Team, and let us step into the interrogation room for a moment.”

The deputy hummed in a gentle tone as he moved, and the Audit Team members, unfazed, proceeded with their tasks.

Jeong screamed and resisted violently, but his refusal to cooperate mattered little.

The Audit Team was accustomed to handling those who resisted far more fiercely.

“So this is the talisman from the rumors, is it?”

While his subordinates worked, an Audit Team officer sidled up to Cheongmun and struck up conversation.

“I heard he’s remarkably skilled.”

Cheongmun cast him a sidelong glance, lips twisting faintly.

“Check the email I sent you.”

“Ah, that? I’ve already read it. But you even attached receipts without being asked?”

“You’ll only badger me for them later. Consider it received in advance.”

“Ah, true. The rumors did spread like clouds. A few people on our side were curious about him too—wondering how much he charges for his services. Turns out he’s practically working for free. I suppose it’s not exploitation though, since he picks and chooses who he helps? Mm. All right, done. Introduce me sometime.”

His face hardened as though not a needle could slip between, yet the Audit officer kept up his banter before returning to his subordinates.

“Team Leader, we’ve found it.”

The Team 1 members who had gone to search returned, a sampling bag stuck upright in a paper cup of salt.

As they walked, the salt turned blackened, burnt as if by flame. Those watching swallowed hard.

Their expressions showed they longed to fling it away immediately. The deputy placed the item onto the desk.

Cheongmun inspected what lay inside the evidence bag.

“Lord, save me.”