If You're Innocent, Just Stay Still (1)
If you're innocent, just stay still.
What evidence do I have that I'm guilty?
None.
Similarly, evidence that I'm innocent?
None.
Therefore, I had to prove to myself that I wasn't the perpetrator.
The women who accused me of sexual assault didn't need any evidence, but for me—now branded a rapist—to prove my innocence, evidence was required.
It was absurd, but that's how the law worked in this country.
*
I pushed open the door to the police station and walked inside. A cop lounging in a chair, idly playing a mobile game, asked half-heartedly what I wanted, clearly annoyed by the new workload.
I explained my business briefly. He must have known the drill already—after all, guys falsely accused by bitches like them weren't exactly rare. He rummaged for the necessary forms with practiced ease, then paused, staring at me in surprise.
"You were told to come in for questioning today?" the cop asked.
"Yes."
I answered lightly, as if it were no big deal. His eyes shifted subtly then—a look that said, you got screwed too. There was even a hint of amusement in it.
There were several reasons for that.
For starters, the female cop who'd called me had said, "It's nothing serious, so you can just come right in." Total bullshit.
They'd probably already pegged me as the perp and prepped a cell for me.
Even without a shred of solid evidence.
And normally, you don't have to show up the second the cops summon you for questioning. You could stall for up to a week or so.
That's when you'd hire a lawyer, gather CCTV footage from the incident, and so on.
But I'd come straight away for the interrogation. Bringing a lawyer might've been the smart legal move, but I didn't. That path wasn't for me anymore.
I already knew bone-deep that I couldn't beat them with the law. And now, I too had become one of the demons who broke not just the law but morality itself.
Still, to buy a little more time before being dragged to trial, there were things I had to do.
On the way over, I'd stopped by the district office, filled out a request for disclosure of the complaint documents, and now handed it to the cop.
He looked exceedingly bothered, but hey, he was a taxpayer-funded cop—he'd do his job eventually.
It'd take at least ten days to get the disclosure, and it wouldn't prove my innocence anyway, but better than nothing.
"Have a seat for now. The detective in charge will be here soon."
The cop said.
Then, without even glancing at the papers I'd given him, he plopped back into his chair and resumed his half-assed gaming. What if some real case broke out? Whatever. This city was peaceful.
No— it had to stay peaceful.
I recalled the secrets of this city that even my thorough pre-regression investigation had only glimpsed. But I shoved it from my mind.
Not something I could handle.
Not yet.
Instead of sitting where the cop told me to, I wandered the station lightly. In my previous life, it was my first time in a place like this, and the atmosphere had cowed me into a shitty defense. But now? Different story.
I was confident I wouldn't fall for their blatant criminal-treatment leading questions.
I pulled out my phone to reorganize my investment list when the detective arrived. Just as I'd guessed from her voice on the phone, it was a woman.
But her husky tone and appearance didn't match at all—I was a bit surprised.
She was wearing a leather jacket and black suit pants in this weather, the textbook "detective" getup so clichéd it almost looked out of place.
Too contrived. Less like real-life cop attire and more like what an actress playing a tough female detective in a daily drama would wear.
Not just her clothes—her face and figure screamed drama lead, not cop.
A pretty, delicate face. Her short bob wasn't androgynous like Jiyeong's; it was straight-up cute. And she was on the short side.
Sensing my gaze, she shot me a slightly annoyed look. No need to engage, so I pulled out my phone and got back to my task.
She shrugged off her jacket, got the rundown from the other cop, and approached me. She'd glared when our eyes first met, but now she was all soft smiles.
Even holding a coffee for me. Probably to win me over. Make the leading questions easier.
"I'm good—caffeine doesn't sit well with me."
I refused the coffee from the female detective and stood up.
"Want to come this way?"
I followed her into the interrogation room. It wasn't some sealed movie-room deal—pretty open, with the faint sound of the cop's phone game drifting in.
It had a casual, lived-in feel that might loosen you up a bit.
I flopped into the chair she pulled out for me. Then gave vague answers to her pointless questions. Nothing about the case.
Weather chit-chat and bullshit. She was doing it on purpose. To relax me.
But when I showed zero friendliness, she switched tactics—trying to scare me by bringing up my "crimes."
Any normal person—even a ballsy one—would shit bricks in a police station for the first time, knowing this interrogation could decide their future. But I'd been through it. I stayed cool.
I let her ramble silently, then picked apart her bullshit point by point.
"You said it was caught on CCTV... where?"
"Huh?"
"Which CCTV?"
"Uh? Oh, yeah, that one. The footage that's there."
I pressed her relentlessly as she trailed off and tried to dodge.
"Can I see it?"
"Huh? Why?"
Why? Absurd.
"Should I quote the Constitution to explain why you have to show it to me?"
"Ah... well..."
At a loss, she trailed off again, declared a break on her own, and stood up.
We went outside, stared blankly at passing cars on the street, came back—and same shit.
She kept up the leading questions without tiring; I kept calling out every flaw.
It was a spear that couldn't pierce versus a shield that couldn't break anything—a standoff.
Seemed like I had the edge, but the shield couldn't smash the spear's tip by the rules, so really, I was at a disadvantage. I switched strategies: no more direct rebuttals.
Just vague, ambiguous answers. Wouldn't bite me in court later, but it'd grind on her nerves just fine.
Our chat dragged past an hour, and with nothing pried from me, the cute-faced detective finally bared her fangs in frustration.
"What're you blabbering on about? If you're innocent, just stay still."
Her face and voice turned venomous. Big guys would've flinched. But for me? Perfect—the opening I'd been waiting for.
I calmly asked for her official name and rank.
"Why?"
"Gonna file a complaint."
No point playing nice and submissive.
In this country, there were two jobs where showing weakness was suicide: street thugs, and the state's sheepdogs.
I pushed hard; she went groveling.
Mistake on her part. "You're just a kid, why so aggressive? Can't I slip into casual speech? Cops are human too, we mess up sometimes," etc.
I humored her excuses until the interrogation wrapped. Different from pre-regression. Back then, it'd been way more aggressive. Because of that flimsy "evidence."
I never figured out why those bitches were so pissed at me back then, but I thought begging forgiveness would work. Saw them as humans, not demons.
So I asked forgiveness for crimes I didn't commit.
And Jiyeong secretly recorded it. That sealed the deal.
But now? No such evidence. So even the cops couldn't go full agro without proof—especially with me threatening complaints to their face.
Then she suggested wrapping it up. Figured it'd drag longer, but nope—lunchtime. I let out a dry laugh. Still, business first.
"Hold on. Give me the statement."
"Statement?"
Playing dumb when she knew damn well.
"Gotta review it. Make sure it's accurate."
"Nah, I wrote it up fine, so don't worry about it, kid..."
"Hand it over. Now."
She hesitated—mindful of my complaint threat—and finally passed it.
I nitpicked every error, every fabrication, every twist or omission before calling it done and standing.
She mumbled something like "Gotta eat, so get lost," barely confirming it was over. I gave her a polite bow and rose.
As I turned to leave, I glanced back one last time. Jacket off now—didn't suit her anyway. Underneath, thin casual clothes that made sense for the heat, highlighting her surprisingly ample chest on that petite frame.
I eyed the detective's decent rack, then her face.
Not on the girls' level, but cute. Short, but good proportions—solid overall. Nah, I'd just ogled top-tier bitch Yujin, so she seemed average. Anywhere else, she'd pass for a beauty easy.
She wasn't mad just 'cause her cheap tricks failed.
Hmm. What to do?
If this evidence-less bitch who treated me like a perp outright kept blocking my revenge path...
I snapped to what I was thinking and flinched.
Fuck. What the hell was that?
She wasn't Yujin, Minhui, Jiyeong, or Sua. Hadn't ruined my life. Punishment maxed at a complaint. Later, with more power, I could get her booted. Rotten cop anyway—better off gone.
Yeah, that's it. Ceiling on payback.
But what I'd just thought? Way past that.
I pressed my temples hard and stepped out of the station. Destination: school.
Way past morning classes, but not dismissal yet. I'd check Yujin's status. If she'd shown up, great. If not, also great.
Had to fuck her again before her chipped sanity recovered.
Time wasn't on my side. Trial date looming. Gotta break Yujin first.