The Speed of Rupture
At the Crime Investigation Division, Choi Seongcheol's expression stiffened slightly as he confirmed the victim's condition.
He had rushed over the moment he heard his son was alive — only to learn he was a vegetable.
Death would have been a mercy.
"Bak Eunha."
He called over a guild member who had been talking with another hunter.
A long-haired woman approached.
"How is he?"
She was Sura Guild's finest healer.
An A-rank hunter, brought along precisely for contingencies like this.
"I don't think I can manage it. I wouldn't say he's beyond saving entirely, but preventing permanent disability might be a bit..."
"Hm."
The Judgment Seat's ability was more powerful than he had imagined.
Bak Eunha was a healer who could mend pierced organs, so long as the patient still drew breath.
If even she found it difficult, then it truly was.
"He originally used cardiac arrest, and when that was blocked, he went after the brain instead," Kim Woocheol said from beside him.
He stole a glance at Choi Seongcheol's son.
When they had first arrived, the boy's face had been smeared with arrogance; now it had gone quite rigid.
"How is that even possible?"
Choi Seongcheol wondered.
Using a skill without even looking at the target defied reason, and the idea that he could destroy another person's internal organs was equally incomprehensible.
Even his son's ability, Force, had required physical contact.
It was a perfect superior version of it.
"We don't know either. We tried to find out, but once we realized it was a waste of effort, we simply accepted it."
In fact, they had even assembled an analysis team, but when it produced no results whatsoever, they disbanded it.
"Incompetent, then."
Kim Woocheol's eyebrow twitched, but he didn't let it show.
He forced a smile.
"Our abilities are still lacking."
"Let's have a word, first."
"Of course."
The two of them entered a separate office.
Kim Woocheol served tea and took a seat across from him.
Seen head-on, the man's broad face and massive frame were overwhelming.
"The perpetrator of the school violence — that was your son, wasn't it?"
At Kim Woocheol's question, killing intent flickered in Choi Seongcheol's eyes.
Seeing this, Kim Woocheol studied his expression, unable to make sense of it.
"How did you know he's my son?"
He distinctly remembered referring to the perpetrator as a guild member when he'd made contact.
Yet the head of the Crime Investigation Division knew exactly who it was.
"A formal investigation request was filed. That's how we knew."
"An investigation request?"
Choi Seongcheol's face twisted.
An investigation request meant the victim of the school violence had filed it.
"You weren't aware? The case where a victim died from your son's abuse."
"Died?"
Kim Woocheol felt something was off.
Why didn't he know?
Of course, it was possible the victim's mother was lying.
But the diary and the testimony made that hard to believe.
"The police dismissed the case for insufficient evidence — did you not know that either? The victim had no external injuries, yet died from ruptured internal organs. The victim's mother suspected your son was an awakened one, and that's why she came to us."
Choi Seongcheol closed his eyes in silence.
That son of a bitch had killed someone with Force.
And then buried the whole thing?
Rage boiled up inside him; he wanted to kill the boy on the spot. But he had to hold it in, for now.
"Hoo."
He let out a long breath.
"Bring my son here."
Kim Woocheol contacted his subordinates and had Choi Jinwoo brought up.
The atmosphere was far too grim.
Soon after, Choi Jinwoo entered.
"You. Did you kill someone? Tell me the truth."
At Choi Seongcheol's emotionless words, Choi Jinwoo's pupils wavered violently.
You son of a bitch. How did he find out?
His mother had covered everything up completely — of that he'd been certain.
He stole a glance at the man standing before his father.
Head of the Hunter Crime Investigation Division.
Apparently that man had dug into his background.
Doesn't matter. There's no evidence. The case was dismissed.
He decided to lie again.
"No. Absolutely not."
Choi Seongcheol looked at Kim Woocheol without a word.
A silent order to explain.
"Choi Jinwoo. Then, may we proceed with our own investigation into this matter?"
"Go ahead. Investigate all you want. There's no evidence anyway."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
This time, Kim Woocheol looked at Choi Seongcheol.
A request for consent.
But the man kept his eyes closed, giving no reaction whatsoever.
Kim Woocheol had the party's consent regardless, so he immediately called Seo Gichan.
"Order a second autopsy on the victim and take Choi Jinwoo into custody for a mana measurement. If he tests positive as an awakened one, arrest him."
"You mean right now?"
"Immediately."
"Understood."
Seo Gichan moved to take Choi Jinwoo away.
"One moment."
It was Choi Seongcheol.
"I'd like a word in private."
It was tantamount to telling the master of the house to get out, but given the mood, there was no choice but to comply.
Kim Woocheol stepped out with Seo Gichan.
"What's going on?"
"What do you think. It seems he had no idea his son committed murder. Choi Seongcheol, I mean."
"I'm sorry? So the mother covered it up, then."
"That would be the..."
CRASH!
The sound of something shattering came from inside.
And then Choi Jinwoo emerged.
"Father says you should come in."
His face was a mask of blood.
Kim Woocheol left Seo Gichan on standby and entered the room.
"So it was true."
"Hm... Then we must proceed with the investigation by the book."
"What if we buried it?"
Choi Seongcheol's voice was heavy.
"That's... a bit difficult. The investigation request has been filed, so we have to proceed. You'll have powerful legal counsel, of course, so the sentence could likely be reduced."
A first offense, undeveloped ability control, insufficient evidence, old-boy connections.
If he forced it through with the power at his disposal, a suspended sentence might even come out of a murder charge.
"We bury it. That's the end of it."
Choi Seongcheol stared at Kim Woocheol in silence.
A wordless pressure.
He was merely looking at him, yet Kim Woocheol felt a suffocating tension.
"...That I cannot do."
No matter how powerful an S-rank hunter was, the head of the Hunter Crime Investigation Division could not neglect his duty.
"Once a verdict comes down, his guilt will be on record. And if my son dies at the Judgment Seat's hands — will you take responsibility for that?"
That was what weighed on Choi Seongcheol most.
If not for that, he would have thrown the boy in a cell himself, as a lesson.
"Well..."
"Besides, no one knows except the victim. I will personally see to it that my son is disciplined severely."
"Even so, the investigation must—"
BANG!
Choi Seongcheol slammed his fist into the table.
The steel table crumpled and flattened against the floor.
"If anything happens to my son, I will not stand by. Investigate if you still want to after that."
He rose and left the room, Choi Jinwoo trailing after him.
Left alone, Kim Woocheol leaned back against the sofa and stared up at the ceiling.
Two days had passed since the Judgment Seat's reappearance.
A mere two days, yet the aftershock was enormous.
Twenty-seven school bullies were dead, and the unprecedented live-broadcast hostage crisis had sent shockwaves through the entire nation.
The government painted the Judgment Seat as a lawless fiend who threw society into chaos and demolished the rule of law.
But contrary to their intentions, the Judgment Seat's popularity only kept climbing.
Two reasons lay beneath the surface.
The first was the media's packaging.
Beginning with KMS, several outlets flooded the airwaves with positive coverage of the Judgment Seat.
They published public opinion polls revealing the Seat's approval ratings, and even produced programs comparing the state of drunk driving before and after his appearance.
The second was the students' verification challenge.
It was a challenge verifying one's escape from school violence.
The challenge spread through online communities in no time, and the Judgment Seat's popularity among students shot straight up.
Amid this phenomenon, victims began to find their courage.
Exposure posts started pouring in without pause.
And alongside the exposés, apology posts were appearing at nearly the same rate — proof of just how thoroughly the Judgment Seat had become an object of terror.
The students of Class 2, third year at Seoju High School, found their courage as well.
When Choi Jinwoo stopped showing up at school, they knew for certain it was because of the Judgment Seat.
The fear he had planted still filled them, but they chose to trust the Judgment Seat.
A handful of students posted exposés online.
Naturally, they hadn't coordinated it.
Among them were videos as well.
Secretly recorded by one student, they captured Choi Jinwoo's vile language and unfiltered assaults.
Not just one — more than ten.
Evidence that could not be explained away or dismissed, no matter how you looked at it.
Choi Seongcheol's aides scrambled to have the posts deleted, but the speed at which they spread was beyond imagination, and they couldn't mount a proper response.
Lee Hocheon quietly closed the video.
The Choi Jinwoo on screen was garbage through and through.
It cast doubt even on the character of Choi Seongcheol, a father hailed as a hero.
No need to wait for the Crime Investigation Division's findings.
The evidence was far too conclusive.
He could simply kill him tonight.
Lee Hocheon paused as he wrote the name onto his list.
Is there a reason to kill him at night?
Eight perpetrators who should have died of brain death today had survived.
Which meant the Hunter Management Bureau was responding to brain death itself.
They were managing the perpetrators around the clock, without even sleeping.
The reason for killing at night was to prevent a response — and that reason had vanished.
Besides, Choi Jinwoo was confined to house arrest anyway.
Not that he'll die from one strike.
He was curious how they had revived brain death.
He searched the internet, and the only answer was surgery.
Assuming they operated the instant it was discovered.
The patient's body wouldn't be in normal condition.
Even with a healer, recovery would take at least several days.
Could they save him if it ruptured in succession?
He only needed to use the skill twice.
And his first test subject would be Choi Jinwoo.
Choi Jinwoo was certain the head of the Crime Investigation Division would never actually investigate him.
No one could withstand his father's pressure.
The look of a man whose soul had left his body — it was delicious to see.
No power, and you get beaten. That's how it works.
He followed Choi Seongcheol, who had gone out ahead.
This actually worked out well.
Because of the Judgment Seat or whatever, his father knew about the murder yet chose to look the other way.
Seeing the perpetrators turned into vegetables scared him a little, but all he had to do was trust his father.
Korea would never defy his father's command.
That was the power of an S-rank hunter.
If I keep blossoming Force, I can become S-rank too.
He wanted to reach S-rank quickly and wield power at will.
To escape his father's shadow, as well.
He was lost in these thoughts as he walked when his head suddenly exploded in pain.
He grabbed the wall at once.
It felt as if someone were deliberately scrambling his brain.
The pain kept mounting, and he tried to resist using his mana.
He thrashed and struggled, but soon realized his own power could do nothing.
The only thing that came to mind was the Judgment Seat.
His father was walking ahead, not looking back.
"F... Father!"
He forced the words out, and collapsed on the spot.
Choi Seongcheol turned his head.
His new form vanished in an instant, and a roar bellowed through the Hunter Management Bureau.
"EUNHAAAA!!!"
At the sound shaking the entire building, Bak Eunha — who had gone down ahead — and the whole of Sura Guild rushed to the shelter.
Something had clearly happened to Choi Jinwoo.
Kim Woocheol, sprawled on the sofa cursing his life, shot to his feet at the sound as well.
"Choi Jinwoo!"
He moved swiftly to the shelter.
The emergency facilities were there, so that was the obvious destination.
Goddammit. He can't die on us.
The truth was, the more terrifying existence wasn't the Judgment Seat — it was Choi Seongcheol.
The Judgment Seat only killed criminals, but Choi Seongcheol could bring down the nation itself.
He had to keep Choi Jinwoo alive, whatever it took.
BAM!!
The shelter wall shattered, and the people inside flinched violently.
"Save him, now!"
Choi Seongcheol laid the writhing Choi Jinwoo down.
Immediately after, Bak Eunha and the personnel of Sura Guild and the Crime Investigation Division arrived.
Bak Eunha rushed to Choi Jinwoo without a moment's delay and activated her heal.
"It's a brain hemorrhage! It's rupturing faster than I can heal it! We need everyone else helping!"
The other healers hurried over and lent their strength.
One frantic minute passed, and Bak Eunha felt the bleeding stop.
"The bleeding has stopped. He needs surgery. If we don't remove the necrotic tissue and the blood, the intracranial pressure will kill him."
Surgery began immediately, with Bak Eunha casting her heal continuously.
Choi Seongcheol approached.
"Will he make it?"
His expression was visibly anxious.
"He's alive. There may be some lingering aftereffects, but he'll be fine."
"...Good."
Choi Seongcheol was relieved.
Bringing Bak Eunha along had been a masterstroke.
He watched as Choi Jinwoo was moved into the operating room.
Judgment Seat.
A being he would find and kill, no matter what.
He was gathering his thoughts when the area around Bak Eunha suddenly erupted into commotion.
A wave of unease washed over him.
"The pressure's too high! We have to perform a craniotomy right here. Anesthesia, nothing — there's no time!"
A cerebral vessel had begun rupturing once again.