Jack was momentarily stunned before recalling what he had said the night before. He couldn't help but chuckle—he really did owe this guy a favor.
Without Ma Seok-do digging up that urban legend, they might not have revised their profile in time, and thus might not have identified the real killer as one of Lee Geon-woo's ex-girlfriends.
Which meant the FBI might not have saved Lauren Barrett in time—and another innocent victim would have been added to Liu Soo-bin's list.
"You can tell at a glance whether a wound was inflicted before or after death, right?"
Ma Seok-do's smile faded, his face suddenly serious.
"At a glance is a bit of an exaggeration, but yeah, it's usually easy enough to determine in most cases. Hey, wait—?"
Before Jack could finish, Ma Seok-do grabbed his wrist and dragged him outside.
"Help me out here. The victim was only 20 years old—it's a damn shame to let her die so unjustly."
—
"Don't you have forensic pathologists in Korea for this?"
Despite grumbling, Jack was curious enough that he let himself be pushed into Seok-do's SUV as they sped toward the hospital.
Although, if he was being completely honest, the real reason he agreed was that it got him out of an entire afternoon of shopping with the girls.
"There are only about 40 forensic pathologists in the entire country. Unlike the FBI, we don't get special treatment for every case."
Seok-do's face contorted in frustration.
"Only 40?" Jack was incredulous.
He thought the U.S. having fewer than 500 full-time forensic pathologists was bad enough, but Korea's numbers were even worse.
"Doctors make way more money elsewhere. Nobody wants to be a forensic pathologist." Seok-do sounded completely resigned to the situation.
During their drive, Jack finally understood just how broken Korea's forensic system was.
The country had no independent forensic regulations—none.
Forensic procedures were scattered across various laws, including the Criminal Procedure Act, Medical Act, and Healthcare Act.
So, technically, Korea didn't even have a proper forensic system.
When police discovered a suspicious death, they didn't call a forensic pathologist.
Instead, they reported it to their superiors, who then contacted a 'police medical officer'—a regular doctor hired by the police department.
These "police doctors" weren't forensic specialists.
They only performed a basic external examination, then issued a "Suspicious Death Report", which was sent to both the upper police department and the local prosecutor's office.
Then, it was up to the prosecutor to decide if an autopsy was needed.
If the prosecutor approved, they had to file a formal request to the court.
Only after the court issued an official permit would the police be allowed to send the body to the National Forensic Service for autopsy.
Two official reports.
Six separate departments involved.
Even under ideal conditions, an autopsy would be delayed by at least 48–72 hours after the initial report.
"Jesus. I thought the U.S. had a terrible forensic backlog—but Korea is a whole new level of bureaucratic hell." Jack shook his head.
Seok-do snorted in protest.
"Hey! It's not like we're the worst. Japan isn't much better—they have twice our population but only about 100 forensic pathologists."
Jack's mind drifted to a certain neighboring country with over 20,000 forensic professionals.
No wonder detective novels and crime manga were so popular in Japan and Korea—they needed fictional detectives because their real-life forensic systems were a disaster.
"Alright, tell me about the victim."
Jack knew exactly why Seok-do had dragged him along.
The detective didn't need an autopsy—he just needed an excuse to bring in an FBI agent.
That way, he could push for an examination without higher-ups interfering.
"A girl, just turned 20, fell from the 8th floor of a hotel in Gangnam early this morning.
No security cameras, no witnesses.
She hit the ground on her back.
It doesn't look like suicide to me, but Prosecutor Kim refuses to approve an autopsy—unless we can find solid evidence."
Seok-do frowned, genuinely troubled.
Jack raised an eyebrow.
"My favors aren't cheap. And you're using one on a stranger?"
Seok-do looked offended.
"What kind of question is that?! She was just a kid!
She had her whole damn life ahead of her, and now she's dead for no reason.
Doesn't she deserve justice?"
Jack thought about Korea's bizarre age-counting system—babies born before March were considered two years old instead of one.
So technically, the girl was probably 18 or 19.
"Alright." Jack smiled, patting Seok-do's shoulder.
"Forget the favor.
From now on, we're friends.
And friends don't keep score."
—
Stepping out of the morgue, Jack peeled off his gloves and mask and washed his hands.
Seok-do, waiting impatiently, rushed over.
"Well? What's the verdict?"
Jack sighed.
"I'm not a forensic pathologist, and I couldn't perform an autopsy—only a basic external examination.
The victim had head injuries, spinal fractures, and broken limbs—which are all consistent with a fall."
Seok-do's face fell.
"But…"
Jack continued, his expression darkening.
"You were right to be suspicious.
Judging by her landing posture and the amount of bleeding at the fracture sites, I highly suspect she was already dead before she fell."
Seok-do's hand shot out, gripping Jack's arm tightly.
"Are you sure?"
Jack flexed his bicep, resisting the iron grip.
"I can't give you a final cause of death, but I strongly recommend a toxicology test—and check her stomach contents.
She probably died from alcohol poisoning or drug overdose before the fall.
Also, she had recent sexual activity before her death.
You need to find out who was in that hotel room with her."
Seok-do released him, spinning on his heel while dialing his phone.
Jack watched him rush off, incredulous.
"Hey! Aren't you driving me back?!"
"Call a cab!" Seok-do waved dismissively, already halfway down the hall.
"I've got work to do—I'll buy you a drink later!"
He stuffed a wad of cash into Jack's hand—a few crisp 10,000-won bills—without even looking back.
Jack glanced at the time.
It wasn't even 4 PM yet.
If he went back now, he'd have to spend hours shopping with the girls.
"Ah, screw it." Jack sighed, pocketing the cash.
"Alright, Seok-do—where to next?"
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