The corridor leading to the Chief Judge's office.
Lee Hanyeong was walking one step behind Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik.
When the sign reading "Chief Judge" came into view in the distance, Lee Hanyeong let out a short breath.
At that moment, Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik slightly turned his head toward Lee Hanyeong.
"In a few months, he'll be heading to the Supreme Court as a Supreme Court Justice. To someone like him, the current position of Chief Judge is nothing more than a passing stop on his résumé. That's why he doesn't even spare a glance for the judges here. Especially a single-judge magistrate like you—you're practically invisible air."
"..."
"So this is your chance. If your name gets remembered in the head of a Chief Judge who doesn't even know the names of single judges, you might get to ride the line."
"..."
"You know this better than anyone. Among all the Chief Justices so far, only four didn't graduate from Korea University. So watch your words carefully."
Lee Hanyeong knew what Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik was trying to say.
In any organization, school ties and regional ties matter.
But here, they matter even more.
In an elite group where most graduated from top universities, Lee Hanyeong, who had graduated from a provincial university, could be said to have his path upward blocked.
That was why he needed to catch the Chief Judge's eye and carve out even a small path upward, breaking through those school ties.
In response to Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik's words, Lee Hanyeong neither agreed nor disagreed.
Then the two of them stopped in front of the Chief Judge's office.
Knock, knock, knock.
Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik lightly knocked and spoke.
"This is Senior Criminal Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik."
From inside came a heavy voice.
"Come in."
After giving Lee Hanyeong a brief glance, Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik carefully opened the door.
Inside was Chief Judge Baek Iseok, flipping through documents at his desk.
Was it because of his white hair? Chief Judge Baek Iseok was called the White Tiger of the Judiciary.
With his firm belief that he could sentence even his own mother to death before the law, many people feared him.
In a way, he was an admirable person.
But firm beliefs can also make a person narrow-minded.
In a previous life, Chief Judge Baek Iseok rose to become a Supreme Court Justice, but in the end, his beliefs got him expelled from the judiciary.
After that, he pinned a National Assembly badge to his chest in Yeouido.
Some might call it a successful life, but it wasn't a good look either.
It was a tragedy born from believing one's personal ideology was absolutely right.
As Lee Hanyeong was thinking about Chief Judge Baek Iseok, Baek Iseok removed his glasses and brushed back his white hair.
At the same time, Lee Hanyeong and Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik silently bowed their heads.
Lowering his gaze, Lee Hanyeong swallowed unconsciously, perhaps from nervousness.
When he glanced sideways, Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik also couldn't hide his tense expression. Unlike Lee Hanyeong, he frequently came and went from the Chief Judge's office, yet he still seemed nervous.
As expected of Baek Iseok.
"Come in and sit."
Lee Hanyeong and Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik sat on the sofa across from Baek Iseok's desk.
"You're Judge Lee Hanyeong, correct?"
"Yes. I'm in charge of criminal single-judge cases."
"I hear you put together the Kim Sangjin case?"
"I was lucky."
At the modest reply, Chief Judge Baek Iseok smiled faintly.
To Baek Iseok, the Chungcheong Southern District Court was a place with no particular meaning, somewhere he would stay quietly and then leave.
But Lee Hanyeong had brought him a case he could put on his résumé, making it feel like an unexpected gift.
"A young judge solved a big case, so I should give a reward, maybe even a bonus. Is there anything you want? Vacation, anything—say it. Should I treat the criminal division to a dinner?"
Lee Hanyeong quietly looked at Chief Judge Baek Iseok.
If he wanted to leave an impression on Baek Iseok—who he might never meet again—it was important what he said now.
He had to imprint the name Lee Hanyeong in his mind somehow.
But considering the whims of those in higher positions, excessive demands could backfire.
'What should I say?'
Lee Hanyeong briefly recalled what he knew about Baek Iseok.
Since this was his first time seeing him face to face or speaking directly, he had to piece together the rumors he'd heard so far and deliver the best possible words.
And he decided.
"I'd like to continue handling the Kim Sangjin trial."
"The Kim Sangjin trial?"
Trials were broadly divided into single-judge trials and panel trials.
A single-judge trial meant exactly that—a single judge made the decision in court.
On the other hand, a panel trial involved one presiding judge of at least the rank of senior judge and two associate judges handling large-scale cases.
Since such trials could determine the course of a person's life, three judges deliberated together to reach the most just verdict possible.
Chief Judge Baek Iseok quietly looked at Lee Hanyeong.
The Kim Sangjin case was large.
Naturally, a single judge like Lee Hanyeong couldn't touch it.
Lee Hanyeong knew that well.
"What exactly do you mean by that? Are you asking to be promoted from single judge to presiding judge? I'd love to grant that, but even for me, that would be difficult."
Fortunately, Chief Judge Baek Iseok didn't seem angry. He just looked curious.
"No. I'd like to serve as the associate judge and take on the role of lead judge."
In panel trials, the lead judge usually drafted the judgment, which the presiding judge reviewed before issuing the final verdict.
In other words, Lee Hanyeong, who had risen to a single-judge position, wanted to step back down to become an associate judge and draft the judgment for the Kim Sangjin case.
Chief Judge Baek Iseok looked at Lee Hanyeong with a slightly surprised expression.
People usually think only of climbing upward, not of stepping back down.
But the Lee Hanyeong standing before him wanted to step down if it meant seeing the trial through to the end.
It was a judge's stubborn pride.
Chief Judge Baek Iseok slowly nodded.
"Yes, that's how a judge should be. One shouldn't cling to position, but hold fast to one's convictions and principles."
Baek Iseok's gaze shifted to Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik.
"For the Kim Sangjin case, have Judge Lee Hanyeong serve as lead judge under the presiding judge. You can be the presiding judge, Senior Presiding Judge Im."
How could anyone refuse those words?
Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik bowed his head.
"Understood."
Chief Judge Baek Iseok's gaze returned to Lee Hanyeong.
Lee Hanyeong immediately bowed as well.
"Thank you for the difficult decision."
Baek Iseok waved his hand.
"No, no. I'm just in a good mood for once."
"Thank you."
Baek Iseok's eyes looked genuinely pleased.
"Lately, I've been using busyness as an excuse and haven't had time to sit down with young judges. But there's something I used to say whenever I met them. Perhaps because it's been a while since I've met a young judge, I feel like saying it again. The moment you're appointed as a judge, you must abandon the idea that you're an ordinary person. We are people who judge human sin before God does."
"..."
"To live as a judge, don't show everything you have just because you have it, don't say everything you know just because you know it, don't lend everything you own just because you own it…"
At that point, Lee Hanyeong picked up his words.
"And don't believe everything you hear."
"...!"
Lee Hanyeong had spoken exactly the words Baek Iseok was about to say.
Slightly surprised, Chief Judge Baek Iseok asked,
"How did you know that?"
Lee Hanyeong replied in a small voice.
"It's a line from Shakespeare's King Lear."
At Lee Hanyeong's words, Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik lowered his head deeply.
It was agonizing.
When the Chief Judge spoke, even if you knew, you were supposed to pretend not to and just listen—but Lee Hanyeong had cut him off and shown off his knowledge.
Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik rolled his eyes to check Baek Iseok's expression.
Contrary to his worries, Baek Iseok suddenly burst into laughter.
"Hahaha, that's right. You must really like books? Judges need to understand people different from themselves, so they should read a lot. Well, that aside, the last part of that line is important. A judge must not believe everything he hears. In front of us, everyone only says what's advantageous to themselves."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Baek Iseok's gaze turned to Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik.
"Senior Presiding Judge Im, try raising him well. I'll be watching too. I didn't expect to meet talent after coming here. Hahahaha."
Watching Baek Iseok laugh heartily, Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik let out a small, tense breath and looked at Lee Hanyeong.
A little later, Lee Hanyeong was no longer in the Chief Judge's office.
And the pleasant mood that had existed while Lee Hanyeong was there seemed to have vanished without a trace.
In a low voice, Baek Iseok spoke to Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik.
"Look into the Kkangchi case."
"The Kkangchi case?"
A Kkangchi case referred to a case where the opposing sides were evenly matched, making it difficult and complex, yet solving it brought little recognition. Prosecutors and judges alike hated being assigned Kkangchi cases the most.
Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik blinked as he looked at Baek Iseok, who had suddenly brought it up.
"Find one that's especially tangled among the Kkangchi cases. And pass it to Lee Hanyeong."
"...!"
He had seemed to like him just moments ago, but now he was suddenly telling him to hand over a Kkangchi case.
Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik desperately wanted to ask why, but Baek Iseok was not the kind of man who would kindly explain his reasons.
In the end, there was only one thing Senior Presiding Judge Im Jeongsik could say.
"Understood. I'll find one and pass it on."
Lee Hanyeong was standing in front of the Chief Judge's office door.
He slowly turned his body toward the door he had just exited.
The look of respect he'd had while gazing at Chief Judge Baek Iseok moments ago was gone. Only coldness remained.
His eyes dropped from the sign reading "Chief Judge's Office" and took in the entire door.
But he wasn't looking at the door.
He was looking at Baek Iseok, the White Tiger of the Judiciary, sitting behind that closed door.
Lee Hanyeong slowly bent his waist toward the door.
'Please help me a little, until the day you leave the judiciary.'
Kim Yunhyeok's eyes flicked toward Lee Hanyeong as he was reviewing case files.
Lee Hanyeong was calmly flipping through documents.
"I hear a Kkangchi came in? You've got to look at the Kim Sangjin case too—having a Kkangchi on top of that must be a headache."
Lee Hanyeong stopped turning the pages and shifted his gaze to Kim Yunhyeok.
'Ah, you bastard.'
Kim Yunhyeok was looking at Lee Hanyeong with an expression full of concern.
But if you looked inside, he was probably clutching his stomach and laughing.
When he'd heard a few days ago that Lee Hanyeong had met Chief Judge Baek Iseok, Kim Yunhyeok must have been anxious, wondering what would happen if the gap between them widened.
If Lee Hanyeong caught the eye of Baek Iseok—who was all but guaranteed to become a Supreme Court Justice—it would be like paving an asphalt road ahead of him, unlike Kim Yunhyeok, who was rotting away in some back room.
But soon after, when a Kkangchi case came in, Kim Yunhyeok must have breathed a sigh of relief. You didn't throw a Kkangchi case at someone you truly intended to nurture.
Kim Yunhyeok stood up from his seat and spoke.
"Coffee?"
"Thanks."
As Kim Yunhyeok tore open an instant coffee packet, he said,
"A crime of passion murder case, right? I heard the boyfriend got the insurance payout."
Lee Hanyeong let out a faint chuckle.
'When did you even read it?'
A single judge handled about four thousand cases a year, and just dealing with one's own cases was exhausting. Unless asked, there was hardly any reason to read someone else's case files.
Yet Kim Yunhyeok had deliberately gone out of his way to read them.
Looking at the coffee placed on the desk, Lee Hanyeong spoke casually.
"Ah, it's a bit complicated. I just started as a single judge—I didn't expect to get a case like this."
"If there's anything complicated, let me know. I'll think it through with you."
Lee Hanyeong and Kim Yunhyeok exchanged warm smiles.