Ghost Writer

Case Closed and Misleading Move

ONE MONTH LATER...

THE CENTRAL DISTRICT COURT WAS PACKED. Even from Chung-Cha's seat at the front of the courtroom, she could hear the incessant chatter of the crowd. After the lockdown, all everyone could talk about was the "Building 101 Murders". Now, they wanted to know how the saga would end.

It was quite anticlimactic; a quick trial, with a verdict everyone expected. Oh Joo-Hyung was convicted with first-degree murder of Park Min-Ji, and abetting a murderer. He was sentenced to life imprisonment. 

Oh Yeon-Ok was luckier because she did not know that "Andrew" was a murderer. She could not be charged with abetting a murderer, thus was given a lighter prison sentence. Still, it was extremely unlikely that she would ever become the building representative once released from jail.

When the verdict was announced, Chung-Cha smiled slightly. (A shot many reporters caught.) She covered her mouth, whispering to no one, "Hey, Min-Ji. I took care of it." There was no response. Chung-Cha didn't mind; in fact, she was glad. It meant that Park Min-Ji was finally free.

:

The next trial was Choi Jong-Wook's, or "Andrew". (Apparently, he had been impersonating one of his victims, Ahn Kook-Jin, the whole time. Somehow, that surprised Chung-Cha the most.) His trial took place nearly two months after Joo-Hyung and Yeon-Ok's one. Even with the sketches, the Violent Crimes Unit had to individually identify the victims, then determine whether they were really killed by him. In addition, the case spanned over several districts, which was troublesome.

Long story short, Choi Jong-Wook did kill all of them. All the victims were struck from behind, with a box cutter or blunt hammer, at similar places. The newspapers even suggested that all the victims were loners, which was his MO. The cleaning lady and Kim Se-Hun were loners. Chung-Cha considered herself to be a loner, too. Feeling sick, she stopped reading there.

Despite being a key witness (meaning, he tried to kill her several times), Chung-Cha wasn't sitting in front. She was wearing a mask, hidden among the crowd in the Central District Court. This time, instead of testifying in person, Chung-Cha's testimony had been recorded beforehand. In the video, her face was blurred out, and her voice was heavily edited. It was weird, but it worked well to hide her identity.

First, all the voice recordings and security camera footage were played. Then, the attorney had her describe the events that had happened, to cross-examine the recorded evidence. After, the attorney probed her further, asking for explanations and reasons she did certain things. Chung-Cha remembered exhaling, and it felt as if the weight on her shoulders dissipated.

"I can hear ghosts."

The words were like a confession; hushed yet sincere. There was a sudden buzz in the courtroom. Even Choi Jong-Wook was taken aback, his eyes widening. The video continued.

"Ah, I hope I explain this clearly enough. People who become ghosts are those who have unfulfilled wishes when they die. Ghosts are "attached" to the subject of their wish, and are only released when their desire has been fulfilled. Most of the time, these ghosts are people who cared deeply for their loved ones." Chung-Cha's tone turned serious. "However, it is uncommon for so many ghosts to follow one person. I might be cynical, but I don't think anyone is that special."

There was more outcry, and Chung-Cha winced. Yeah, her wording was too harsh. The Judge had to call for order, and Chung-Cha sunk into her seat, feeling embarrased.

"I was wary after the first residents' meeting, when I first heard so many ghosts. Ghosts are always wailing, so they're not really useful when you're trying to get information. Oh, my ability has a range limitation, too. I can only hear the ghosts when I'm near the person they're "attached" to. Anyway, everyone was always grouped together, so it took me a while to find out that the ghosts were after Andre—Choi Jong-Wook. He approached me after a residents' meeting. That was when I found out.