Draksan's Confession
“I am a human being who has no place in society.”
I fell silent. I had no idea what to say.
Should I offer some trite reassurance like “That isn’t true”? Draksan’s expression was far too grave for empty words. Any cliché would only make things worse.
So I simply waited for him to continue.
Draksan squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again.
“I can feel it myself. I’m going mad.”
“It isn’t madness. It’s an illness. And illnesses can be cured.”
“I haven’t visited you in the past month. Do you know why?”
I had no guess.
“Because I got better. Suddenly, completely better. Originally, just thinking about that bastard—the beast tamer, Hardler, that son of a bitch—would make my blood boil, wouldn’t it?”
“You used to fly into a rage at the mere mention of his name.”
“Yes. But at some point, hearing that name stopped bothering me. Even when I pictured his face or remembered the pain my wife and daughter must have suffered.”
Draksan gave a hollow laugh.
“I even thought, ‘My wife is already dead. Hardler is paying for his crimes. There’s nothing I can do. I’m powerless, so what can I do? I can’t let the past ruin the rest of my life too.’”
“……”
“I truly believed I had recovered completely.”
If what he said was true, his way of thinking had shifted into something quite healthy.
“But that wasn’t the case. Do you know what I’m charged with?”
“Assaulting an investigator, I believe.”
“Before that, I assaulted someone else. A young man named Hardi. While I was beating him, the investigators showed up, and I ended up assaulting them too.”
He spoke as if recounting someone else’s actions. That was only natural—the violence had been driven by his intermittent explosive disorder, not by his own will.
“And that young man, Hardi, is Hardler’s son.”
“Pardon? I heard you attacked someone you were drinking with.”
“That’s also true. I was drinking with Hardi at the time.”
I tried to organize my thoughts. Hardler was the so-called beast tamer who had murdered Draksan’s family. Hardi was Hardler’s son. Which meant…
Draksan had been drinking with his enemy’s son?
Even after sorting through everything, one part still didn’t make sense.
“My memory is a bit hazy, but… didn’t you hate Hardler’s family as well?”
“Yes, at first. I despised them all. I wanted to kill every last one of them. Since I could no longer kill Hardler with my own hands, I even considered killing his family instead.”
“You mentioned that to me directly once.”
Hardler was serving a life sentence in prison. Because of that, Draksan had lost any chance at revenge. He couldn’t exactly break into the prison to kill him. So his unresolved rage turned toward Hardler’s family. Hardler had lived a double life—secretly committing murders while maintaining a respectable household. Of course his family hadn’t known, but that hadn’t mattered to Draksan. He had planned to harm them in place of the man he couldn’t reach.
“I even investigated Hardler’s family to carry out my revenge. Ah, I never told you about that part…”
“It’s all right.”
I wasn’t surprised. During our sessions, I had already sensed something like this.
“Please continue.”
“But when I looked into them, I found they weren’t living comfortably either. They were being pointed at and shunned simply for being Hardler’s family. Hardi kept failing to find work for the same reason.”
Most people would have felt a grim satisfaction seeing that. I probably would have too. But Draksan was a better man than I had realized.
“I started to wonder—maybe they were victims too, suffering because of a human murderer, just like me. Yes… just like me. Once I thought that, I pitied them. They had done nothing wrong. The only guilty one was that bastard Hardler…”
Draksan gritted his teeth with a sharp sound. He let out a long sigh, steadied himself, and went on.
“So I bought a small gift and went to see Hardler’s family.”
“You went in person… Did they suspect you?”
“At first they were wary, thinking I’d come to harm them. But after we talked, we grew close quickly.”
Draksan and Hardler’s family shared something in common: they had all suffered because of Hardler, and they were still suffering. Sharing that pain brought them together. Hardi and Draksan even became close enough to drink heavily together.
“But once the alcohol started flowing…”
Draksan’s eyes trembled.
“Hardi and Hardler do look alike. They’re both dwarves, after all. It had never happened before, but suddenly Hardler’s face began overlapping with Hardi’s. Then I started confusing whether the person in front of me was Hardi or Hardler, and eventually…”
He bounced his leg anxiously. His breathing grew ragged.
“…I have to kill him. I have to kill the Hardler right in front of me, right now. That was the only thought in my head.”
“So you assaulted Hardi because he and Hardler overlapped in your vision.”
“Yes. Not long after, three investigators came to arrest me. The funny thing is, they started looking like Hardler too. I even beat up innocent investigators, and on the way home in a daze, everyone I passed looked like Hardler. Every single one of them.”
Draksan’s body was shaking. The same man who had seemed so strong while hunting beasts now looked more fragile than anyone.
“I’m insane. I have no confidence to keep living. No reason to, either. I’d rather… go to prison. Someone like me shouldn’t be allowed to roam free in society. No.”
He gave a bitter smile—the smile of someone who had already given up.
“I’m not even human… I’m a barbarian.”
I chose my words carefully.
“Your daughter is still alive, isn’t she?”
“My daughter? You mean Lena?”
Draksan’s daughter, Lena, had not died. Though she remained in a coma, she was undeniably alive. But instead of finding hope in my words, Draksan snorted.
His eyes looked even emptier than before as he stared into the air.
“Is that really living?”
“……”
I fell silent. Ordinary healing magic could mend external wounds. Higher-level spells could repair internal organs and bones. But no magic could heal the brain—the mind. Lena had lost consciousness due to psychological trauma. Despite every healing spell and medical technique available, she had never regained awareness. Unless a miracle occurred, she never would. The best they could do was keep her alive in a vegetative state, neither truly dead nor alive.
Could that truly be called living?
“I’m tired. So very tired.”
He was asking to be locked away. Voluntarily requesting isolation from society. So the way I could help him… was to do nothing. To let him go to prison as he wished.
“…Thank you for speaking with me, Draksan. I’ll visit again.”
“There’s no need, sir.”
Draksan bowed his head deeply.
“Thank you for everything.”
When I stepped out of the visiting room, I saw Naikle. She stood guard in front of it with her hands clasped behind her back, posted there in case Draksan caused trouble during the visit.
“Ah, sir. Did your conversation go well?”
“Yes.”
I answered while trying to hide the bitterness in my heart. Naikle’s lips twitched as if she had something to say.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me?”
“……It’s nothing important. Just…”
Naikle hesitated, then continued.
“I’ve received so much help from you, Counselor Kain. I even think of you as my benefactor. But in this matter, I believe Chief Justin is right.”
She glanced at me anxiously, worried I might be offended. With that same cautious tone, she went on.
“Since I’ve been helped by you as well, I can understand some of the pain Draksan is going through. His story is heartbreaking too. But…”
“He’s too dangerous to be released back into society.”
“Yes… I know it’s not my place to comment.”
Naikle lowered her head, looking embarrassed. I nodded.
“I’m aware of that as well.”
If Draksan’s sentence were reduced because of his mental illness and tragic circumstances, criminals would try to exploit the precedent, just as Justin had warned. Besides, Draksan himself wanted to go to prison.
There’s nothing to debate.
Draksan could simply stand trial like anyone else and pay for the assault without any reduction in sentence. That way, no dangerous precedent would be set, and no criminals could abuse it. Draksan would get exactly what he wanted—separation from society. Everyone would be satisfied.
But…
I thought about Draksan’s life. He had returned home from work one day only to find his wife dead and his daughter in a coma. Unable to take proper revenge, he had suffered alone until he developed a condition that made him unable to control his rage. Just when the illness began to improve and he could finally picture a future free from the ghosts of the past, his anger had exploded again. Now unable to trust even himself, he had chosen to lock himself away from the world.
It was unbearably cruel. Was this truly the best outcome? Was sending him to prison really the only right answer?
Even if he had asked for isolation himself, was that truly what he wanted deep down? Didn’t he also wish, like anyone else, to live a normal life?
Yet there was nothing else I could do.
Eventually, the day of Draksan’s trial arrived.
The trial proceeded swiftly. Draksan did not deny any of the charges. He confessed to every detail. He lied only once.
“I am sane.”
He refused to seek a reduced sentence on the grounds of mental illness and never mentioned his intermittent explosive disorder. Even after taking his confession and remorse into account, the court sentenced him to fifteen years. Considering it was his first offense, the punishment was quite severe. I wondered whether his identity as a barbarian had influenced the verdict…
The exact details are unknowable.
Draksan showed no intention of appealing. He seemed prepared to accept the sentence as it was. With that somewhat bitter aftertaste, the matter appeared to be drawing to a close.
Then, just before Draksan was to be taken to prison—
Chirp, chirp.
A bird’s call came from outside the window.
A giphon?
The pigeon dropped a letter from its beak. I unfolded it and read the hastily scrawled message:
—Sir, this is Naikle. Please come to the Security Bureau immediately. It’s about Draksan. He’s—
The handwriting was frantic, the message incomplete and lacking context. It was clear something urgent had happened—and that it concerned Draksan.