Constrained to Start (8 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 2

Ji Ho, who had calmly dropped a polite bombshell, didn’t even flinch.

If they were going to hand him real authority, he’d gladly take it—but if it was just for show, why bother?

He’d joined the special prosecution late in the game and wanted the proper authority fitting for bringing down a heavyweight like Myeong Jin.

“Full authority?”

The sharp-eyed Deputy Chief Prosecutor refilled his glass.

“If my role is truly to conduct a thorough investigation into Myeong Jin…”

The Deputy Chief Prosecutor, lips tightly pressed, poured more liquor into Ji Ho’s glass as well.

“I believe it’s appropriate for me to be assigned exclusively to Kim Yu Jun, Myeong Jin’s right-hand man.”

“And if that proves difficult?”

The words “let’s face reality” nearly rose to his throat—but Ji Ho just smiled instead. This was the moment for upper management to make a decision, not for lengthy persuasion.

“I’m scheduled to go on a U.S. training program this fall.”

“Hah, already?”

“I’ll have to catch up on my English studies at some point.”

It wasn’t just an excuse—his U.S. training really was set for a few months from now. If nothing was guaranteed, he had neither the need nor the time to get tangled up in a troublesome case.

“Prosecutor Kang—no, Ji Ho.”

“Yes, Deputy Chief.”

“I understand what you’re thinking. Fine, I get it. For now, let’s just focus on the amount of damages we’ve suffered.”

The Deputy Chief Prosecutor leaned forward slightly as he spoke.

“Where do you think all that money came from? One way or another, it’s the people’s hard-earned cash.”

Who didn’t know that?

From the moment this case surfaced, they’d anticipated its connection to Myeong Jin. Which meant fairness demanded they seal off every possible escape route before even beginning.

Ji Ho downed his shot of soju in one gulp.

“After Executive Vice President Kim Yu Jun took real control, Myeong Jin’s chain of command changed.”

A capable heir apparent.

How diligently must the employees have fallen in line to ride this promising new wave of leadership? Surely they’d buried evidence layers deep and even competed to prove loyalty before anyone could uncover the truth.

“Given that our opponent is Kim Yu Jun, secrecy around this investigation must be even tighter.”

The Deputy Chief Prosecutor nodded and turned his gaze to Ho Jin.

“That’s exactly why I’ve called Prosecutor Yeo Ho Jin here—to let those who work well together handle it.”

“I’d like to request the participation of Prosecutor Yeo Ho Jin and the investigators of my choice.”

It was an unavoidable condition to prevent Myeong Jin from obstructing the investigation or leaking information. He’d fallen for it once—but never again.

“Then… will you do it?”

If he was this serious…

Ji Ho placed both palms firmly on his thighs.

“Isn’t it a prosecutor’s duty to take down the bad guys?”

“Yes, duty. I’ll have to coordinate with higher-ups, so for now, give me the specific personnel and a list of names.”

“Yes, Deputy Chief.”

The Deputy Chief Prosecutor, peering intently over his glasses, was the first to raise his glass.

Given the gravity of the situation, there were no flowery declarations—just a deep breath and a swift gulp of lukewarm liquor. Just as the sharp sting of alcohol spread through him, Ji Ho’s phone vibrated.

It was a call from a fellow investigator in the same room. What could possibly be wrong at this hour?

“I’ll step out to take this call.”

After asking for their understanding, Ji Ho hurried out of the room.

His phone kept ringing, but given the sensitivity of the matters discussed, he first sought a place with no one around. He walked down the long corridor and headed straight for the restaurant entrance.

Just as he was about to redial the missed call, standing beside a large potted plant—

[Deputy Chief Prosecutor Shim Sang Hoon is still dining. Yes, he stepped out briefly earlier to take a call.]

Ji Ho’s temple twitched.

[They’ve been eating for about an hour, and they’re already on their second bottle of alcohol.]

Who in the world would report something like this—and to whom?

Still fiddling with his phone, Ji Ho scanned the man’s appearance.

[The others had already gone inside, so I couldn’t see them. Yes? Ah! Understood. I’ll wait until the Executive Vice President arrives.]

Executive Vice President?

There were countless companies out there, and plenty of “Executive Vice Presidents”—but for someone to pinpoint the Deputy Chief of the Supreme Public Prosecutors Office (not even the Prosecutor General) by name, and to wait until “the Executive Vice President arrives”…

Ji Ho recalled cases involving chaebols.

Though there were numerous minor complaints filed against various companies, none recently had been as major as the Myeong Jin case.

‘Could Kim Yu Jun possibly be here?’

Whether this suspicion was baseless or not, after overhearing such a suspicious conversation, it was only right to wrap things up. It was clearly inappropriate—everyone would see it that way—for a prosecutor to meet with an unidentified corporate executive. Anyway, the main discussion was over; he’d just call Ho Jin and leave.

Ji Ho waited until the man who’d ended his call entered the restaurant, then made his move.

As he descended the stairs and stepped into the lobby, his head turned instinctively.

Surrounded by burly men stood the top star—he’d seen her again. Was her name Park Ra Jin?

‘!’

What was this scene now? For the second time, she was with Kim Yu Jun, Executive Vice President of Myeong Jin Group.

[This is the timeline separator]

“What? The Deputy Chief of the Supreme Public Prosecutors Office is at a Japanese restaurant?”

Yu Jun repeated the question after hearing his secretary’s whispered update.

“Yes. Secretary Kim spotted him while going downstairs for protocol team duties.”

While listening to the two men’s conversation, Ra Jin continued cutting her well-done steak.

Every time the silver knife sliced through, more red juice seeped out, making her lose her appetite. To be precise, her stomach had been churning ever since she saw Kim Yu Jun.

“Ra Jin, try some of this lobster.”

Even while speaking with his secretary, Kim Yu Jun flashed a warm smile whenever their eyes met. Not satisfied with that, he cut off a piece of his own lobster and placed it onto Ra Jin’s plate—just like a doting boyfriend.

On the white plate, stained at the edges with blood-red juice, sat a plump, glistening piece of lobster.

Ra Jin couldn’t bring herself to reach for it.

Suddenly, she remembered the day she’d refused the shrimp dish he’d offered.

That day, Kim Yu Jun had fired the Chinese restaurant’s chef—very publicly. The official reason was subpar cooking, but it was clearly a warning meant for Ra Jin.

A demonstration that even the smallest refusal could trigger consequences. The thought of how Kim Yu Jun could so casually give or take away someone’s livelihood made her dizzy.

“Ra Jin.”

She couldn’t stall any longer under his watchful gaze. Rather than risk another chef’s livelihood, she shoved the cursed lobster into her mouth.

“How is it?”

“It just melts in your mouth.”

Ra Jin swallowed the barely chewed lobster in one gulp. It lodged somewhere in her throat, making her gasp for air.

“Want more?”

“That’s enough. Would you like some of this?”

She cut off a piece of her already unappetizing steak and placed it on his plate.

Why go through this charade when they could just eat on their own? Was he trying to cosplay as a couple? His behavior was so ridiculous she nearly burst out laughing.

“Director Hyun.”

Yu Jun popped the piece of steak she’d given him into his mouth as he spoke.

“Yes, Executive Vice President.”

“I was already planning to set up a meeting with the Deputy Chief Prosecutor. Might as well give him a quick hello.”

His sudden mention of an imminent meeting felt like a signal it would end soon—Ra Jin’s heart fluttered.

‘If things go well, I might get to leave early.’

Why was Kim Yu Jun, the Executive Vice President of Myeong Jin Group—who scheduled his days down to the minute—wasting time here? And who’d even asked him to?

He always arranged meetings unilaterally, ignoring Ra Jin’s schedule entirely.

He picked dishes she didn’t want to eat and wouldn’t let her leave until she’d finished everything. That was what he wanted—and over time, it had become an unbreakable rule.

‘How much longer will I keep getting dragged around like this?’

She asked herself fiercely, yet found no easy answer.

So many things were tied to her under the grand label of “business”—from her agency to drama investments. Kim Yu Jun’s financial strings had silently tightened around her neck like an invisible leash.

“I’ll tell Secretary Kim to keep waiting.”

Half-listening to the two men’s dull conversation, Ra Jin gently swirled her crystal wine glass. A rich grape aroma lightly brushed past her nose.

“Executive Vice President, will 15 minutes be enough?”

Yu Jun nodded at his secretary’s question, then turned his eyes toward Ra Jin.

“Ra Jin.”

At the softness of his voice, Ra Jin’s eyes widened.

“Will you wait with me while having dessert? It won’t take long.”

The word “No” nearly burst out of her mouth.

Just locking eyes with him was already unbearable—now he wanted her to stay longer? If she didn’t put a stop to it here, she’d surely end up sharing dessert and escorting him all the way to her doorstep. She grew anxious, desperate to find a way to stop it.

“You’re busy—please go ahead with your meeting.”

She forced a subtle upward curve to her lips, hiding her trembling nerves.

“It’s been so long since we’ve met, and we haven’t even finished our meal.”

He gently rubbed her smooth fingernails. Despite his tender touch, his gaze grew even more intense. Was this what it felt like when a bug crawled up your leg?

To hide her aversion, Ra Jin narrowed her eyes into crescent moons.

“But I already ate the lobster you gave me earlier. That’s plenty.”

The more she tried to emphasize how delicious it was, the more her legs shook—but she kept her smile steady as she continued calmly.

“Then why’s your plate still untouched?”

“…I’m full.”

“That won’t do. Have some cake—you like it. Director Hyun.”

As Yu Jun raised his hand, Ra Jin quickly interjected.

“I—I have a shoot tomorrow.”

“A shoot?”

“Yes, for a cosmetics print ad.”

A schedule detail she’d half-ignored suddenly came to mind. It was the best excuse she could think of.

“What time?”

“Morning.”

He tilted his head slightly. The instant his smile vanished, Ra Jin involuntarily swallowed hard.

“That’s at 2 p.m., Ra Jin.”

“…”

“Is there even a reason for making up such a flimsy excuse?”

Since when had he started keeping track of her schedule?

If he’d knowingly played along before, was this a trap to catch a bigger lie? A wave of vague anxiety hit her, and her heart pounded.

“Could it be… you don’t want to be with me?”

The truth hovered on her tongue—but provoking him would only make things worse.

“No, it’s just that for cosmetics ads, I need skincare treatments too.”

“And?”

“Since it’s close-up shooting, there’s more prep than usual.”

“More than enough to ignore my request to wait?”

Instead of asking if it was important, he furrowed his brow.

It was a strong warning—a signal that unless she gave a satisfactory answer, there was no telling when this meeting would end.

It had already been eight years since they’d first gotten to know each other.

Yet every prediction based on accumulated experience had repeatedly missed the mark.

He’d clearly been smiling—but the moment she turned away, sparks flew from his eyes. She could never tell at which exact point he’d taken offense or how his anger would eventually subside. Just like right now.

“Park Ra Jin.”

“It’s not that I’m ignoring you—I just didn’t want to disturb you.”

He nodded slightly, as if urging her to say more. Ra Jin scrambled through her jumbled thoughts.

“If things go well for you, Hyung, Chairman will finally recognize you.”

His tension broke with a soft chuckle.

Had the word “Hyung” worked…? Then maybe a little more?

Desperate to end this meeting, Ra Jin whispered words she didn’t mean—mixing a pinch of sweet exaggeration into cold, hard facts. Whenever their eyes met, she curved hers into crescent moons again.

What on earth was she even doing? A wave of self-disgust washed over her.

“Hyung, you’re Myeong Jin’s real—”

“Ra Jin.”

“Yes?”

“Want to come up to the suite?”