667: Prosecutor 536 667: Prosecutor 536 The next day.
9 a.m.
Seoul High Court.
A line of people in suits stood at the bottom of the steps, waiting for something.
The man at the front had a standard square face, with sharp and masculine lines, and a sturdy physique that suggested regular workouts, exuding an air of unyielding valor; in a movie, he would definitely be cast as the righteous character.
He looked towards the wide road at the entrance of the courthouse, occasionally glancing down at his watch.
“That is a prosecutor from Koryo, Che Changmin.”
“Do you know him?”
In the parking lot, Jiang Chen and Gao Zhengbi were sitting in a car.
Prosecutor.
Even to foreigners, it’s a well-known position, often portrayed in Koryo movies with great powers, responsible for investigating cases and pressing charges, with authority over the police forces, much stronger than domestic civil servants, by no small measure.
In Shenzhou, even if you passed the civil servant exam, you could only say you’ve barely secured a stable job, and if you were assigned to a place with little to no corruption, life would be bland with nothing much to look forward to.
However, becoming a prosecutor in Koryo meant something entirely different.
It could transform someone from the lower classes overnight, elevating them to Koryo’s privileged – even ruling – class.
There was a Koryo movie about the extravagant life of a commoner who became a prosecutor by passing the judicial exam.
Becoming a prosecutor was the dream of every ordinary Koryo citizen, but the entire country had only just over a thousand prosecutors, making it a one in ten thousand chance compared to Koryo’s population.
“He is quite famous among the people of Koryo, having handled many major cases.
It’s said he had a hand in the imprisonment of the Samsung chairman.
I don’t know much about him personally, but his public image is quite impressive.
Perhaps he is a model specially crafted by Koryo’s Ministry of Justice, viewed by the public as ‘Bao Qingtian’, with high prestige.
Although only forty, he is already a significant figure in the Koryo prosecutor’s system.
Unless something unexpected happens, there’s definitely a spot for him in the future as the Chief Prosecutor.”
One inspector could command the wind and rain.
Let alone the Chief Prosecutors, of which there are only forty or fifty in total.
In Koryo’s judicial system, those who could fill this position were simply described in four words.
Omnipotent!
“It seems that Miss Lan’s case might be under his jurisdiction.
Perhaps this case has become a stepping stone for his promotion to Chief Prosecutor.”
As Jiang Chen listened to Gao Zhengbi’s introduction, he observed the “Bao Qingtian” at the entrance of the courthouse.
Was this a well-prepared conspiracy or simply a “plea for the people”?
“It should be Miss Lan arriving.”
Gao Zhengbi suddenly spoke up.
Through the car window, Jiang Chen looked towards the street.
A black sedan approached at a steady pace and stopped neatly at the bottom of the steps.
The one who got out was Lan Peizhi.
The prosecutor with a bright future, Che Changmin, quickly led people to greet her.
Although what was said couldn’t be heard, from his demeanor, it was clear the prosecutor’s attitude towards Lan Peizhi wasn’t too harsh.
It seems that those who climb to such heights, even if they abhor evil, would know how to be flexible.
There was only one thing that puzzled Jiang Chen.
Che Changmin’s placid demeanor was understandable, but what he found odd was why Lan Peizhi, as the accused and with those charges, could still be so free?
Although Jiang Chen had never been involved in a lawsuit, he hadn’t eaten pork yet had seen pigs run.
Weren’t the criminals with severe crimes in the movies and news always detained in advance, brought to court in shackles by the bailiffs, and made to sit in the defendant’s bench, ashen-faced, awaiting their fate’s judgment?
Before Jiang Chen could figure it out, a powerful and imposing black motorcade appeared on Koryo’s rare six-lane road, nearly occupying the entire road.
Quiet yet assertive, their presence was arrogantly conspicuous.
The rest of the traffic followed humbly behind, not daring to even honk their horns.
The accomplished prosecutor, Che Changmin, watched, squinting slightly.
“Inspector Che.”
The motorcade stopped, and An Zairong got out first, dressed in a black suit and black shoes, shining so brightly under the light that they reflected it.
The same was the signature red tie.
He faced Che Changmin and revealed a dazzling smile, his white teeth radiating a friendly, warm, and harmless demeanor.
It was hard to imagine that he was actually a cold-blooded executioner.
“Bang, bang, bang…”
One by one, muscular men in black got out of the cars, bringing excitement to the entrance of the courthouse.
“Mr.
An, bringing so many people, are you planning to demolish the courthouse?”
Che Changmin responded with a smile, but unlike An Zairong, his was cool and sharp.
“Prosecutor Che, don’t smear my name, demolish the courthouse?
Where would I get the courage?
You’ve investigated me for so long, you must understand me well.
I’ve been timid since I was young, and coming to a place like the courthouse, so bringing more friends makes me feel safer.”
An Zairong spread his arms wide, saying cheerfully, “We haven’t exceeded the courthouse’s limit on people, have we?”
“Of course not.”
Che Changmin’s smile was skin-deep, his treatment towards An Zairong not as courteous as towards Lan Peizhi, taking a sidelong glance at the black-clad men who clearly were up to no good, he said evenly, “Mr.
An, you’re free to bring as many people as you want, it’s just that I’d like to remind you, with so many of you going in, I wonder how many will be able to come out?”