Cross-Examining the Liar
Yes! Magistrate, sir! I shall obey your command!
The onlookers who'd come to watch, Eori and her father, the magistrate and his clerks, even the guards—all fell silent, waiting for me to speak.
"First." I ignored my pounding heart as best I could and bowed to the magistrate. "Despite this sudden turn of events, I offer my deepest gratitude for your boundless mercy, Magistrate, sir."
"Hmph…."
"And to the bereaved family, who must be grieving more deeply than anyone due to the loss of their father, I extend my sincerest condolences."
"…."
I bowed to Sim Seo-bang as well, the witness and bereaved son. Then I lifted my head, muttering to myself over and over. I'm an actor. This is a courtroom, and I'm playing the role of a lawyer. No need to be nervous. It's fine. I'm an actor. This is all fake. It's okay.
"First, a question for Butcher Kim." Clasping my hands behind my back like a confident lawyer, I looked at Eori's father. He gazed up at me with a pitiful expression, as if I were being reckless. And yeah, I was.
"Butcher Kim. You work at a butcher shop, correct?"
"Y-yes. That's right, sir."
"Given that it's a butcher shop dealing with beasts, you'd naturally learn how to handle knives. Right?"
"Yes."
"So, when you first learn to use a knife, how are you taught? Are you told to run around holding it?"
"No. The knives we use slice flesh and cleave bone—if you run around carelessly with one, you'll get a beating that'll leave you half-dead."
"Thank you." Having gotten the answer I wanted, I turned to the magistrate. "Magistrate, sir. As you've just heard, those who work in a butcher shop follow strict rules. They're trained never to run while holding a knife that could easily harm someone."
"Unclasp your hands."
"Ah, yes. My apologies." I hurriedly dropped my hands, realizing it might look arrogant. The magistrate, who'd pointed it out, twisted his face in a mix of disappointment and anger.
"Is that all? That they were taught not to run with a knife, and therefore he's no murderer?"
As if. "No, sir. Now, a question for the witness and bereaved son."
I stepped away from Eori's father and approached the government office building. Standing right in front of the porch, I met Sim Seo-bang's eyes without flinching and asked my question.
"Mr. Sim. You said you clearly saw Butcher Kim running from beyond the wall. Is that correct?"
"That's right! Are you saying I lied?"
"No, sir. Then let me ask again. What did Butcher Kim look like as he ran from beyond the wall?"
"I just told you! One hand holding a knife! Covered in blood from the chest down!"
"One more question. You say he was holding a knife—what kind of knife, and how was he holding it?"
"How should I know that?!"
"But you saw it? Whether it was a butcher's knife for beasts or a common kitchen knife—if you could make out his face, you could tell what kind of knife it was, right?"
"Ugh…!" Sim Seo-bang groaned low, as if straining to remember. After a few seconds, he snapped gruffly, "It was a kitchen knife! Satisfied?!"
"And how was he gripping it? Blade up? Or down?"
"Up!"
"Thank you. One more thing—you said his clothes were soaked in blood. Correct?"
"How many times do I have to say it?!"
"My apologies. It's necessary. When you said his clothes were blood-soaked, you specified the blood was from where down?"
"The chest! From the chest down! Here! From the chest to his toes, drenched in blood! My father's blood!"
Sim Seo-bang's tone sharpened even more. He wasn't content with just pointing at his own chest and feet—he glared at me with bulging eyes. It looked like the irritation of a kid pestering him while his father lay murdered, or maybe a desperate threat begging me to believe him.
"Understood. Thank you. Now, my final question. You saw Butcher Kim fleeing from beyond the wall, one hand with a knife, chest down soaked in blood—how exactly did you see that?"
"How? With these two eyes, clear as day!"
"Really? That was visible? From beyond the wall?"
"How could it not be?! Open your eyes and it's right there…!" His shout trailed off into a mumble. He'd realized even he couldn't make it sound believable.
"Yes, exactly." I shifted position and looked at the magistrate. He'd caught it too—his lips twitched upward ever so slightly.
"When a person stands beyond a wall, you can barely see their chest. Anything below is completely hidden. You couldn't tell if they were holding a knife or if blood was dripping from their chest down. Isn't that right, sir?"
"Guards!"
The moment I finished, the magistrate barked. Not at Eori's father kneeling in the yard, but at Sim Seo-bang, whose face had gone pale. "Seize this liar who framed an innocent man at once!"
"W-wait! No! It's not certain yet!"
"…What?"
The one flailing his arms and yelling "No!" wasn't the accused Sim Seo-bang—it was me. The magistrate and clerks stared at me in disbelief.
"What do you mean? Didn't you just prove this man is the culprit?"
"No, Magistrate, sir. I only pointed out the flaw in his testimony—I never said who the real culprit is."
Throwing the witness in jail just for a flawed statement would be no different from jailing Eori's father on bogus testimony. To arrest him, we needed clear, physical evidence.
"He might have lied about the blood and knife, but Butcher Kim did run from beyond the wall—that much is true. He admitted it himself."
"Truth mixed with lies?"
"Yes. As expected from you, sir. Sim Seo-bang could have been so shocked by his father's corpse that he pegged Kim as the killer and imagined the details without realizing it. Unconsciously."
"Does that even make sense? Fabricating lies without knowing it? Fooling himself?"
"People see what they want to see and remember what they want to remember. Everyone assumed Kim was guilty just because he was from Hwacheok Village, didn't they?"
"Hmmm. So what do you propose?"
"Only one option, sir. Use the testimony as a reference and investigate thoroughly based on the physical evidence from the scene."
"Hmmmm…."
Tap, tap, tap. The magistrate sighed heavily, drumming his knee with his index finger. In the deathly quiet compound, that sound rang out crystal clear.
"Hyeong-bang."
After a little over thirty seconds, he called for the investigator. Hyeong-bang handled village security alongside the warden and had prosecutorial authority like an examiner.
"Yes, Magistrate, sir."
"As we just heard, go to the scene where the father was killed and investigate thoroughly."
Phew, finally some relief. All I had to worry about now was the switch waiting at the seodang.
"Take this boy with you."
What? I thought I'd misheard. But Hyeong-bang's eyes widened in the same disbelief.
"P-pardon? Me, sir? You're talking about me?"
"Mm. You sifted the innocent from the guilty with just a few words—seeing the scene yourself should tell you who the real culprit is."
"B-but, I mean, no. I came here to speak up, not to catch the killer. Besides, I snuck out from studying at the seodang, so if I go back late, I'll get the switch anyway…!"
"Oh, right."
My desperate plea didn't sway him, of course. He'd just remembered something I'd forgotten.
"Disrupting a sacred interrogation can't be forgiven. I was going to sentence you to a hundred strokes, but considering your sincerity, I'll reduce it to ten."
"What?!"
"Guards! Prepare the flogging at once!"
Hey, if it's a fair call, shouldn't you just let it slide? Who'd correct you after hearing something wrong now?! Wait, hold on!
"Sir! Please forgive my son!"
That's when Mom burst from the crowd. She'd arrived unnoticed and knelt, shouting that she'd take the beating for me.
"A son's sin is a mother's sin! I failed to raise him properly, so punish me instead!"
"No, no, I'll take it! Right here! Get the switch ready! Guards! Hurry with the flogging! Mom! I'll do it!"
"No! I'm the sinner! I'm the guilty one!"
"Mom, no! It was my fault! Ten strokes here! Make each one count for ten!"
I pounded my chest to show the bewildered guards. I'd braced for the beating, but not Mom taking it.
"You there. Are you this boy's mother?"
As we argued over who would take it, the magistrate called to Mom. She paused her pleas and bowed.
"Yes, sir. I am Si-jin's mother."
"Then you carry out the sentence in the guards' stead."
"I-it was my fault! Mom did nothing wrong! Magistrate, sir! I'm the one who deserves it! The one who needs killing!"
"You'll administer the ten strokes in place of the guards."
Wait, what? Not Mom taking my beating, but her beating me instead of the guards?
"…Yes!"
Mom stood after a moment's silence, her voice firm with resolve. She snatched the hoe chori switch from a nearby guard and charged at me.
"Si-jin! Get over here!"
"W-whoa! Mom! Wait! This was a good deed! A good deed!"
I was too slow realizing what was happening. She grabbed my shoulder, and I twisted desperately to dodge, spinning circles around her but unable to break free as she whacked away.
"I! Can't! Live! Because of you! I can't live!"
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
"Aaaagh! Mom! I'm sorry! Aaaagh! Mom! Ow! Owww!"
The switch whistled with her fury, leaving red welts not just on my calves but my butt, back, and the hands I raised to block.
"Pfft!"
"Ahahaha!"
"Puhahaha!"
Tragedy up close, comedy from afar—just like they say. The crowd roared with laughter since it wasn't them getting hit.
"Heehee…!"
"Khkh…!"
Even Eori and her father, whom I'd helped, were the same. They didn't laugh openly, just covered their mouths or bowed their heads to hide their grins.
"Ow! Ow! Mom! Aaaagh!"
The switch didn't stop amid the chaos, of course.
"Ow! Mom! Ten strokes! Ow! Ow! That's ten! Just ten, you said! Aaaagh! Magistrate! Sir! M-my mom, ow! She's defying, ow! Your solemn, ow! Command!"
"Daring to accuse your own mother? Mother, beat this unfilial whelp until your anger subsides!"
"Yes! Magistrate, sir! I obey! You're dead today! Why do you! Always! Worry me! Why?!"
Each swing echoed my screams across the yard. In response, the crowd howled with delight at the spectacle.
"…!"
But one person alone kept a stone face. Sim Seo-bang, who'd testified so specifically about blood from the chest down and instantly linked Eori's blood-soaked father to his own.