TLWSL 05

Chapter 05

No matter where the client got hold of Shin Saimdang paper,

just looking at this sheet was enough to see it was counterfeit currency with a clear intent to circulate.

“There don’t seem to be any traces of special solutions used during counterfeiting.”

I slowly scanned the surroundings.

Other than some paint stains on the moldy walls, nothing stood out.

Well, it’s understandable—the client probably thought it was too risky to entrust something like this to Mr. Sim Oh-han, who had just gotten acquainted.

Seeing that there’s no workshop for post-processing,

“Looks like Mr. Sim isn’t part of the team.”

Modern criminal activity is marked by specialization and division of labor.

A prime example is real estate, stocks, and currency counterfeiting.

In counterfeiting, there are those who sketch the designs, those who print, those who supply the paper, those who sell, and so on.

For their own safety, escape routes always exist—but here, there was none.

“If anything, the only way out would be that window….”

But even if Sim Oh-han folded his tall frame in half, it’d be impossible to squeeze through that tiny window.

With only one door, he clearly wasn’t part of the team.

“This looks like the studio of a guy who only paints pictures. He probably got tricked into this with a commission.”

Maybe from the start, the client wanted to use Sim’s drawings—done in a style similar to real currency—as the base for making 3D plates.

If that’s the case…

Once the counterfeit money got caught in circulation, they could pin it all on Sim, then force him into the team with no choice but to obey.

After all, there are plenty of currencies worth counterfeiting—dollars, euros, yen.

“Guess you could say he’s lucky to have been caught early… or maybe unlucky.”

A dry laugh escaped me.

“Anyway, I wonder if using psychometry on this paper would reveal its past.”

Let’s give it a try.

“Hup!”

Since I’d already been paid, I thought maybe I could find something useful for Sim by focusing hard on the paper.

Bzzzt.

—Can you do won as well?

Snap.

The vision of two men surrounding Sim and talking to him ended in an instant.

[Your psychometry experience has increased.]

“At least I saw a second longer than last time. Guess the experience really does pile up.”

It was a shame I couldn’t check my actual psychometry experience points.

I set the paper down on the easel, then rifled through the shelves and cabinets for any evidence.

Old oil paints, canvases, brushes.

Books on Western art history and catalogues of famous artists. And—an A4-sized black notebook!

Got it.

“A real artist should have one of these.”

I pulled out the thick sketchbook and flipped through it.

“Here it says ‘Dollar studies’ but the page is left blank. He even scored the paper to slip in a sheet—guess he hasn’t drawn it yet.”

A few pages later, the face of the late Queen Elizabeth II appeared, aging with each turn.

“Incredible. He not only captures texture, surface, and lighting, but also knows exactly what parts to exaggerate for effect.”

Now I understood why the client asked Sim to draw banknotes.

Art that looked more like a photo than a photo itself.

“…It’s just copying, copying.”

Sim’s artistic style was hyperrealism.

Born in late 1960s America, hyperrealism often expressed the vulgarity of consumerism, extreme suffering, and the poverty of the working class.

Even now, it’s used to convey diverse themes in diverse ways.

“Many hyperrealist painters project images onto canvas with beam projectors or studio lights, but seeing none here, he must just set the image next to him and draw by sight.”

Not grid method, not airbrush—just pure observation.

I turned my head toward the whiteboard on the wall.

‘Exhibition at Insadong Suryun Gallery completed, Jan 20 for 10 days.’

A star marking a commissioned work.

The client’s deadline for a 50,000-won note was July 10.

The piece shown at Suryun Gallery was titled The Art of Money—a work plastered with dollars, euros, and won across a vacant face.

No sign of new work after that.

Hmm.

“So he spent six months working on a commission, all for a tiny sheet of paper? Impressive.”

Judging by how The Art of Money had every background detail painstakingly captured, it made sense.

“But even just from the whiteboard, isn’t it obvious the client contacted him after seeing that exhibition?”

Why was that fact omitted from the first trial? They said they searched the studio, too.

Wait a minute.

“This was an initiated case, wasn’t it?”

An initiated case means investigators (police or prosecutors) take up a case themselves based on reports or intelligence.

So it wasn’t mere negligence by the prosecutor…

“They hid the fact on purpose? If this was all orchestrated, then it makes sense.”

A rotten reality, but some things never change.

Traditionally, the crown jewel of the prosecutor’s office is the so-called Intelligence Division, home to the special investigations team.

Usually, a prosecutor who proves themselves in the criminal division gets promoted to intelligence.

To grab that chance, they build up a track record.

If they can’t show results, they miss out on promotions—so they resort to orchestrated investigations.

“And yeah, August is just when they check if you’ve racked up results. From a prosecutor’s point of view, if there’s no new evidence, the appeal court just dismisses it.”

Chances were high that Sim’s case was one of those orchestrated investigations.

“No wonder the on-site evidence collection was so sloppy.”

In criminal trials, the prosecutor has to prove the crime. But since Sim could’ve been acquitted, they deliberately omitted evidence.

All for their own career record.

“Once we leave here, I’ll need to confirm how Sim and the client first met. That wasn’t contested in the first trial, so it’s grounds for appeal.”

Just as I resolved to use psychometry on the whole room—

BANG BANG BANG

The steel door rattled violently, then swung open.

“Hey, you done yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“…What’s there to even look at.”

There was nothing worth taking, but maybe Sim felt uneasy letting me stay alone in the studio, so he kept grumbling.

He stepped inside.

Doesn’t matter if I tell him to stay out, he never listens.

I crossed my arms, tilted my head toward the whiteboard.

“Did the client contact you after seeing your work at Suryun Gallery?”

“…Yeah, sort of.”

“Please be precise. This is important.”

Sim’s annoyed expression shifted to seriousness.

“They said they saw my work at Suryun, picked up my business card from beside the pamphlets, and contacted me.”

“Then why was this motive left out of the first trial? Didn’t you say this during questioning?”

Sim clenched his fist, seething.

“I did! But the prosecutor mocked me, saying it wasn’t important, and told me to quit making excuses.”

“Really? Did you happen to record that?”

“…I don’t think so.”

Strange.

Even if it was orchestrated, interrogation sessions nowadays are recorded.

“So, after reading the written statement, did you deny what was written? You were questioned for over eight hours, right?”

“Yeah, I told them multiple times, but they just ignored me.”

“And after the statement was written, didn’t they make you seal it with your fingerprint?”

“They forced me. When I refused, they smacked me in the back of the head.”

“……!”

That prosecutor’s completely out of his mind.

Recalling the memory, Sim grew more agitated.

“I thought it was hopeless, so during the first trial I told the judge myself—‘The client saw my work at Suryun, contacted me, and we met in my studio for the commission.’”

A retraction of testimony!

“And when you said that, did you also mention the prosecutor hit you?”

“No. Why would I? That’d make me look weak.”

Sigh. Pride is not what you need here.

The judge must have doubted the written statement’s credibility after Sim’s sudden reversal.

If the judge had asked Suryun Gallery for CCTV footage, they would’ve seen the truth right away. Did they just trust the prosecutor instead?

Things were getting messy.

I looked at Sim, who sighed heavily.

“We’ll have to get a copy of the CCTV from Suryun Gallery.”

“I tried, but the director refused.”

“Even when you said it was for court evidence?”

“Yeah.”

Well, unless police or prosecutors request it for investigation, the gallery has no reason to give it to a private individual.

Except in urgent cases of life, safety, or property at risk.

From the gallery’s perspective, this case could tarnish their image.

So how do I get the CCTV copy…

My eyes landed on a poster for the Seoul New Artists Exhibition taped to the studio door.

An idea struck.

“Ah!”

“…Lawyer?”

“Just thinking.”

“Yeah, sure you were.”

Is he mocking me?

Whatever my client thinks, I just have to do my job.

I walked straight to the living room.

“I’ll take care of the CCTV.”

“You will?”

“Yes. Is there a problem with that?”

Sim studied me closely, uncertain.

“You’re… different from the other lawyers I’ve met. Hm. Is this what capitalism tastes like?”

“What do you mean?”

“Eh, nothing.”

I got it.

He’s probably never seen a lawyer go collect evidence themselves. Most just sit in their office with documents.

Time constraints force that—me included.

Anyway.

“There are good pros worth their pay, and useless hacks who aren’t.”

“No, I mean—”

I cut him off. His reply wasn’t important.

“By the way, do you have the prosecutor’s list of submitted evidence?”

“E-Evidence list?”

“Yes. I’d rather not waste time waiting for access to the case files. Don’t you have it?”

“Wait a sec. I grabbed everything I could back then.”

Sim dragged over a big basket from the corner of the living room and pulled out an old laptop.

“Since I don’t have a cabinet here, I just dumped all my stuff in this basket.”

“That’s fine.”

“Ahem, I think I saved copies of the documents on my phone before destroying the papers. Just a minute.”

“Take your time. I’ll head back into the studio to search for anything else usable as evidence.”

“O-Okay!”

While Sim powered on the laptop, I planned to use psychometry on the studio itself.

But the moment I stepped inside, the system window popped up.

 

…Are you kidding me?