Karma
Is this really okay?
I told them to just rough them up a little. This is way too much!
“No. If you torment someone half to death, you deserve to get the same treatment.”
No need for sympathy.
No need for guilt either.
If I didn’t do this, Han Ichan might end up in the news himself—as a teenage boy who killed himself after enduring school violence.
No. He wouldn’t even make the news.
The adults with power and money would bury it completely.
I snatched up the old flip phone and left the hotel.
Then I headed for Haeundae District, far from Songdo Beach where the hotel sat.
I held down the power button until the dead phone flickered back to life.
A burner phone I’d arranged through the errand-center boss who’d handled the kids’ background checks.
The moment it powered on, messages started pouring in one after another.
I powered the phone off again and got back in the car.
Destination: a rural village near Gimhae International Airport.
In a drainage ditch in a countryside village with no CCTV in sight, I tossed a bag containing thirty million won, then turned the phone back on.
I shut the phone off once more and drove on.
Only after reaching Haeundae again did I power it up, receive the confirmation reply, then pull the battery and hurl the whole thing into the sea.
Far enough from any beach that it wouldn’t wash ashore.
“Whew…”
Ten million won per person.
If I’d asked them to kill, they would have done it.
“A human life for a mere ten million…”
I felt the terror of money in my bones as I headed for the hospital.
“Please calm down! This is a hospital!!”
“Do I look like I can calm down right now?!! Get that bastard here right this second!!!!!!”
It was the same cop from yesterday.
Kim Do-gyun.
His son had gotten drunk and been hit by a car, and now he was bellowing in the hospital lobby for someone to drag in the truck driver.
Not a single thought of blaming his own son for drinking and jaywalking.
Even if the truth were different, watching that spectacle made me feel I’d done the right thing.
“You’ll be settling out of court real happily, won’t you?”
“What…? Who the hell are you?!”
“It’s mutual fault. Failure to keep a proper lookout plus jaywalking. And while intoxicated, no less. Actually, since they suddenly jumped out drunk, maybe you should be the one paying compensation.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are, you little shit!!!”
“Hey! Get the hell out of here!”
“Serves you right. Do shit like that and this is what you get.”
“You stop right there?!!”
“Inspector!! Please restrain yourself! She’s just a kid!!”
“Hey!!!!!!”
Who’s this now?
She’s saying exactly what I wanted to say.
The girl who’d just salted Kim Do-gyun’s wounds walked off with a light step, then came lightly up to me and bowed her head.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
She didn’t know anything. She was just thanking me for holding the elevator.
“Which floor?”
“Ninth, please.”
I pressed the button and fiddled with my phone when the girl suddenly spoke again.
“I guess there really is a god in this world.”
“Excuse me?”
“He punishes the bad people.”
“Ah…”
“They’re really awful kids. That man’s son just now.”
So it wasn’t only Han Ichan they’d tormented.
“Thank you for listening.”
“It’s fine. You first.”
“Yes!”
She bowed at the waist, hopped out of the elevator the second the doors opened, and scurried off. I snorted a quiet laugh and headed for Han Ichan’s room.
And there I ran into them again.
“Oh…?”
“Oh??”
“You know Ichan…?”
“Not him—her.”
“Ah…! Unnie’s boyfriend??”
“I—I’m not his girlfriend..!!”
“Then why are you here?”
“Uh…? Th-that’s…”
“I was worried. You don’t have to be someone’s boyfriend to worry about them.”
“Is that so…?”
“What about you? Ichan’s girlfriend?”
“Absolutely not?!!”
“See? You’re not his girlfriend either, but you’re still worried.”
“Ah…”
Lee Min-ju. Same class as Han Ichan, apparently.
Kid’s got talent, I’ll give him that.
Having a pretty friend like this fretting over him.
Ah… if he’s Han Iseul’s little brother, he must be good-looking.
Their mother was quite the beauty herself.
“Do you have a picture of your brother?”
“Ah… here…”
Yep. Handsome.
Was that why they bullied him? Jealousy?
“Brother-in-law….”
“I—I told you I’m not!!”
“Why?”
“Don’t answer that!!”
“I’m just teasing. Reacting like that makes it weirder.”
“But….”
“So why’d you call me?”
“Thank you…”
“For what?”
“Just… everything….”
Looking at Han Iseul’s flustered face, I got the rough idea.
She hadn’t told her mother, but she’d told her little brother.
That I’d covered the surgery, the hospital bills, even the lawyer.
“Just think of it as a stroke of luck that happened to wander into your life. I didn’t help because it was you, or because it was you, Iseul. My situation just happened to let me do this much, so I did.”
“….Yes.. Thank you…”
“Then, Iseul, how about we step out and grab a bite?”
“But Ichan…”
“Read the room.”
“Huh..? Ah..! Yes!! Nu-noona, I’m gonna go eat! Min-ju, send Unnie a text before you leave!”
“U-Unnie! It’s not like that!!!!”
Han Iseul followed me out so she wouldn’t get in the way of her brother’s romantic prospects, and we had a simple lunch near the hospital.
“Did you see the news?”
“Yes..”
“How do you feel?”
“Honestly… it feels so satisfying….”
“That’s good.”
“Huh??”
“That those rotten kids got what they deserved.”
“Ah… yes…”
“The others will get theirs too.”
“……”
Is this why they say a thief’s feet itch?
I’m just looking at her, yet it feels like she’s suspicious, so I end up making excuses.
“That girl earlier said something. That there must be a god who punishes bad people. So of course they’ll be punished, right?”
“Ah…. Yes… I really hope they get punished… Th-then… you can go back up now.. You don’t have to stay because of me….”
“I’m not here because of you. I’m here for me. I’m healing in a suite with an ocean view.”
“Ah….”
“Want to come see?”
“Huh?? A h-hotel….”
“Don’t go getting weird ideas again!”
“Hiiing.. I’m sorry….”
I loaded Han Iseul into the car and drove to the hotel in Songdo.
“Waaah….”
The moment she stepped into the room and saw the ocean view spread out like a painting, I quietly edged back toward the entrance.
That was exactly why I’d brought her.
“Then rest easy.”
“Huh??”
“Get some sleep. How many days have you been like this? Wash up a little.”
“Ah…. W-washing at the hospital…”
“I’ll keep an eye on Yuchan for a bit, so call me when you wake up. Don’t call before eight at the earliest. Got it?”
“….Thank you…. Really… I don’t even know how to thank you.. hic…”
“If you’re that grateful, just listen. Sleep well, wake up, and have dinner with me. Okay?”
“Yes…. hic…”
Aigoo, so busy, so busy.
The second I dropped Han Iseul at the hotel room I got back in the car and returned to the hospital.
I didn’t go up to the ward; I waited in the lobby café until the appointed time.
“Yoo Eunho-ssi?”
“Reporter Jeong Hyeseon?”
“Yes, nice to meet you. I’m Jeong Hyeseon.”
“I don’t have a business card. Yoo Eunho.”
We exchanged brief greetings and sat down.
“Coffee is…”
“I’ve already got one. More importantly, can I see the materials first?”
She was so busy she cut me off mid-sentence, eyes sparkling.
If she wants it that badly, I might as well show her.
“Want to move over here?”
“Pardon?”
“This side’s against the wall, so other people can’t see.”
“Ah.. yes!”
I handed earphones to Jeong Hyeseon after she shifted seats, opened the laptop, and hit play.
About thirty seconds passed.
“Wow, these fucking bastards…!”
“……”
“Sorry.. I just can’t hold it in when I see this kind of thing…”
“It’s fine. I cursed the exact same way while watching.”
Most media outlets are based in Seoul, but big cities like Busan keep their own regional desks for local coverage.
Meaning there are reporters dedicated solely to Busan.
And of course those people end up soft on the local rich and powerful.
That’s why I’d called Jeong Hyeseon—who worked out of Seoul and specialized in school-violence stories—all the way down to Busan.
I hadn’t even needed to ask; a few photos were enough for her to set up the meeting herself.
“So the kids who got drunk and hit by a car yesterday are the perpetrators?”
“Yes.”
“Karma.”
“Exactly.”
“Are you connected to that incident?”
“If I were, I wouldn’t have sent a reporter those photos. Stirring things up would only put me at risk.”
“Ah…. That makes sense. Then what’s the price for handing over this material?”
“Write the article properly. Make it so those perpetrators can’t even show their faces.”
“And what does Yoo Eunho-ssi get out of that? You said you’re not even family of the victim.”
“Hmm… justice?”
“Pardon??”
“I went through it myself when I was a kid.”
“Ah… yes, I understand. I’ll write a proper article. Then may I take this?”
“You already have.”
“Heh-heh~”
Jeong Hyeseon was already holding the USB that had been plugged into the laptop; she grinned and slipped it into her pocket.
“I hear there are more victims.”
“More?? How many?”
“I don’t know either. Just something I heard.”
“More victims…”
This much was good.
She’d dig up and expose the rest on her own.
Word was she was a real bulldog in the industry.
“By the way, why did you become a school-violence specialist reporter?”
“Ah, not a specialist exactly—I just cover that side a lot.”
“Any particular reason?”
“Hmm… same reason as you, Eunho-ssi, and the victim this time.”
“Pardon??”
“I went through it as a kid. School violence.”
I see.
That only makes me trust her more.
Days passed and Jeong Hyeseon’s article still hadn’t gone up.
Instead, a different story set the internet on fire.
These kids were something else.
Their friends had gotten drunk, been hit by a car, and undergone major surgery—yet the remaining three still had girls under their arms and were knocking back drinks at an entertainment joint.
Unfortunately I hadn’t been there to watch this time, but the method of handling told me it was the same people.
They’d mercilessly broken arms and legs, leaving the boys to live with lifelong disabilities.
Was that why?
Because all five of the bastards who’d tormented Han Ichan had finally been punished?
Their parents stormed into Han Ichan’s hospital room as a group.
“It was you, wasn’t it?!! You’re the one who did this!!!”
“I’m not letting this go!! I’ll kill you!!!!”
“How dare you..!!!”
“What are you going to do about our son?!!!!”
“Uwaaaaaaaah!!!!!!”
There were no worse nuisances than these.
They barged into someone else’s hospital room and raised hell until even the hospital security couldn’t stop them, forcing the staff to call the police.
Only then did the parents finally leave the room, still seething; they spent another ten minutes raising more hell outside before finally heading home.
But the road home turned into hell from the very first step.
Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click!
Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click! Click!
A barrage of camera flashes poured down on them.
The startled parents screamed about what the hell this was, but they had no choice but to hang their heads when the brave reporter stepped forward with a question.
“You see this photo, right?! Are these students your children?!”
“I—I have no idea what you’re talking about..!”
“Get out of the way..!”
“Don’t take pictures!! I’ll sue every last one of you!!”
“Th-they’re strangers..!”
“I don’t know them..! Move..!!”
The photo brave reporter Jeong Hyeseon had blown up on her large tablet was something even a parent would want to look away from.
The filthy truth these people had buried with money and power.
Photos those human pieces of garbage had taken in middle school after a group sexual assault—photos they’d kept and shown off like trophies.
She’d said she’d drop the bomb at the perfect moment, and she really had detonated it perfectly.