Chapter 35: Let’s Live Honestly

In Front of Gangnam Police Station

A strange figure appeared, wrapped in a long black padded coat, hood up, mask on, and sunglasses firmly in place.

This might have been unusual elsewhere, but not here—a place often visited by people wishing to stay anonymous. Still, one thing stood out:

“She’s tiny.”

The figure was notably small.

It didn’t seem like a place where someone of her stature belonged.

Why? Well, wouldn’t it seem odd for a middle schooler to walk into a police station?

“May I help you?”

“U-uh, where is the Cybercrime Investigation Team?”

“Head to the main building’s 4th floor over there.”

“Th-thank you.”

Must be a criminal, the officer thought to himself.

In dramas and movies, criminals always arrive handcuffed in a police car with blaring sirens. But in reality, most people walk in on their own two feet.

There are far more people coming in for questioning after receiving a summons than there are individuals being arrested or detained for serious crimes.

Judging by her attire and demeanor, this small figure—a certain Jeon Seol-Ah—looked every bit the part of a criminal.

Following the directions, Seol-Ah headed toward the main building.

The entrance, fitting for a fortress of law, was blocked by bulletproof glass doors.

Next to it was a guard post where a security officer controlled access.

In the past, such posts were manned by conscripted police officers, but with the abolition of the conscription system, retired police officers or military personnel often filled these positions.

In this case, it was an elderly man stationed there.

“To enter the main building, you’ll need to fill out a visitor form and present your ID.”

“O-okay…”

Name, phone number, department, and purpose of visit.

And her ID, too.

Already feeling uneasy about not being there for a good reason, Seol-Ah felt her stomach churn.

She filled out the form with trembling hands: name, phone number, department, and purpose.

Maybe I shouldn’t have come.

For suspects, ignoring a summons can lead to arrest. But for witnesses, there’s no such obligation.

However, if a witness is later implicated as an accomplice, refusing to appear could be viewed as non-cooperation, potentially leading to a harsher sentence.

What on earth is this about?

Though she had heard there were no penalties for skipping a witness summons, the possibility of being considered an accomplice gnawed at her.

So, she decided to show up.

After all, how could she respond if she didn’t know what was going on?

“Here you go.”

She handed over the visitor form and her ID. The security officer’s half-lidded eyes widened.

“Please remove your sunglasses and mask for identification.”

Without showing her face, the police wouldn’t let her in.

Reluctantly, Seol-Ah removed her sunglasses and lowered her mask.

“And take off your hood too. My eyesight’s not the best.”

Why the hood too? Isn’t my face enough?

Of course, it was just his excuse to get a proper look at her pretty face.

Though suspicious, Seol-Ah didn’t want to cause a scene at the entrance, so she complied and lowered her hood.

“Wow, are you a celebrity?”

“No, I’m just a regular person. Is there anything else you need?”

Her ears burned red with embarrassment.

She had come for an awkward matter, and now she had to show her face too.

Let’s live a good life, seriously. This is why you don’t want to end up at a police station.

“Tap your visitor pass to open the door. Make sure to return it when you leave.”

Finally securing her visitor pass, Seol-Ah pulled up her mask, put on her sunglasses, and flipped her hood back up before heading into the building.

“She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in my 60 years. Truly, you live long enough, and you’ll see everything. What a treat for the eyes,” the old guard muttered as he watched her climb the stairs behind the bulletproof glass.

4th Floor – Cybercrime Investigation Team Office

The office of the Cybercrime Investigation Team looked much like any other office: computers, fax machines, and piles of paperwork.

A knock echoed through the room.

“Come in.”

The strange figure entered, instantly drawing everyone’s attention.

“Who is Inspector Kim Jo-Sa?”

Though she described herself as socially awkward and a recluse, Seol-Ah wasn’t completely incapable of speaking to others.

She just had one unique problem:

Whenever she revealed her face, people would fall for her and bombard her with confessions, leading to utter chaos.

“Over here.”

Inspector Kim Jo-Sa, a clean-cut man in his 40s, gestured for her to come over.

The Cybercrime Investigation Team rarely conducted stakeouts or arrests, so their attire was much closer to business casual than the sneakers and rugged clothes often seen in detectives from the Violent Crimes Unit.

“What brings you here today?”

“I’m here for a witness interview.”

“Jeon Seol-Ah?”

“Yes.”

“Right on time.”

Can’t you say my name a little quieter?

She wished fewer people knew about her.

But her hopes were in vain.

“I honestly don’t know what this case is about,” she added nervously.

“You’ll hear the details while we take your statement. Take a seat and hand over your ID.”

Seol-Ah sat down and handed over her ID.

“Please uncover your face.”

The investigator’s stern tone only made her more tense.

Why are they treating me like a criminal?

Though uneasy, Seol-Ah pulled down her mask and removed her sunglasses.

This time, she left her hood on.

The investigator compared her face to her ID.

His expression shifted from “Can I even say she’s pretty without it being harassment these days?” to “How does someone this gorgeous end up here? Tsk tsk.”

Both expressions unsettled her.

He began typing on his computer, the back of the monitor hiding the screen from Seol-Ah’s view.

After a moment, he asked, “What’s your relationship with Lee Yu-Ri?”

“Who?”

“Lee Yu-Ri.”

“I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“You’ve used the SNS ID ‘Legendary2000,’ correct?”

“…Yes.”

“And you uploaded a photo of Lee Yu-Ri?”

“That’s her name?”

“So you didn’t know who she was?”

“Nope.”

“Are you absolutely certain?”

“Yes!”

The investigator’s sharp tone was wearing on her nerves.

The Interrogation Continues

“Are you sure you didn’t know her?”

“Yes!”

Hearing the investigator’s sharp tone in the cold, intimidating atmosphere of the police station was pushing Seol-Ah’s stress to its limits.

“Did you receive any compensation or promote anything related to her image?”

“Compensation? Promote? What are you talking about?”

“Did you know that thousands of people visited the site you were associated with after watching your stream?”

“That wasn’t my intention!”

“Hmm.”

The investigator leaned back slightly, observing her.

“I don’t even understand what’s happening! Could you please explain it to me?”

After a moment of hesitation, the investigator, now staring directly into her eyes, began his explanation.

“Lee Yu-Ri filmed a sexual video with her current boyfriend and uploaded it to an overseas website. Then, she sent the link to her ex-boyfriend.”

“What?”

Seol-Ah’s jaw dropped.

The investigator continued, “The ex-boyfriend reported her, and now we’re investigating her for violating the Information and Communications Network Act under obscene material distribution.”

“Excuse me???”

Her mind spun.

Why would someone film something like that and send it to their ex?

And what’s more: How does someone like that even have two boyfriends in the first place?

Her head hurt.

“Many Korean users accessed the overseas website because of posts on a community forum, where the video was shared under the pretense of being your so-called ‘red pill.’ That’s why we’ve called you in as a witness. Do you understand now?”

“Yes… no… I mean, yes, but also, no?”

Seol-Ah’s brain was struggling to process the absurdity of the situation.

This whole situation doesn’t make sense!

The investigator pressed on.

“Even if payments were made in cryptocurrency and not cash, we can trace everything. Are you absolutely certain you weren’t promoting the content for compensation?”

“I’m telling you, no! I don’t even know that person!”

“Then why did you post that photo on SNS?”

“I…”

For a moment, her words got stuck in her throat.

Why do I feel so cornered?

Finally, she blurted out, “There were too many people harassing me online! Okay? I’m a victim too!”

“How does harassment relate to the photo?”

Oh, come on! Can’t you put two and two together?

Her internal frustration bubbled.

If people didn’t know her real appearance, they’d harass her less.

“I thought hiding how I looked would reduce the harassment.”

The words came out much softer than she intended, a result of her automatic tendency to appear humble and composed in stressful situations.

“So you used someone else’s photo as a shield?”

“Yes, but I found it on a Chinese website! I thought it wouldn’t matter since it was a Chinese person and had nothing to do with Korean internet. How was I supposed to know she was Korean? This is unfair!”

Her face twisted in frustration, and her large, teary eyes blinked rapidly as she tried to convey her sincerity.

“…Don’t you think you were in the wrong?”

“Am I in trouble for this?”

“There’s no specific law against what you’ve done, but you should consider following basic moral principles.”

“I’m sorry…”

The investigator nodded.

“If everything you’ve told me is true, you likely won’t be contacted again regarding this case.”

“Will this Lee Yu-Ri person find out about me?”

Seol-Ah couldn’t bear the thought of dealing with someone that reckless.

The investigator reassured her, “Your testimony will be anonymized.”

Phew. She sighed in relief.

“Thank you so much!”

“Stop impersonating others. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Her heart sank.

“What do you mean, keeping an eye on me?”

She was tired enough just from knowing there was someone else out there who knew her secret.

Maybe I shouldn’t have come after all.

She had been worried she might be tied to a major crime, but to be involved in something so bizarre?

Still, there was this instinct: Always listen to the police and doctors.

As she left the station, something the investigator said echoed in her mind:

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

Wait, did that mean he would occasionally drop by and watch her streams?

The thought sent shivers down her spine.

Is this what a criminal’s life feels like?

From now on, I’ll live an honest life.

To Be Continued