Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator : M.N 1391
Chapter: 8
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Then the commotion grew even louder, and more courthouse security was deployed.
The reporters sitting in the gallery eagerly typed away, turning what had happened in this courtroom into articles.
The content was perfect for click-bait, and the story was sensational.
In particular, the outrageous madness of the boy named Lee Kyung-wan, the protagonist of the incident, was so overflowing that it was more than enough to become a hot topic among netizens.
The reporters’ foresight was exactly right, and soon the internet began calling this “The Six Eunuch Case,” satisfying many onlookers.
= = = = =
After the court’s verdict was delivered, Kyung-wan was sent to a juvenile reformatory.
The director, Go Baek-cheol, set down the file he had been reading and examined Kyung-wan’s face.
Beneath the boy’s calm expression, he could clearly read boredom.
When you’ve seen as many troubled kids as Director Go had, you get a sense for whether a brat is going to cause trouble or not.
But with Kyung-wan, he couldn’t get a read at all.
Most kids who ended up in the reformatory, not the juvenile prison, were products of unfortunate home environments, kids who’d never been properly taught anything.
They were either children who had no adults to guide or protect them and therefore went astray, or kids who caused trouble because they couldn’t overcome a moment of youthful impulsiveness.
In other words, being sent to a reformatory instead of a juvenile prison generally meant there was a high chance of correcting them into decent citizens.
But whether he read the file or looked directly at him, Kyung-wan fit into none of those categories.
Even though he was technically a sex offender, he had maimed six boys into eunuchs without showing the slightest hint of guilt.
The judge had probably given him the maximum sentence of two years in the reformatory because of that.
Director Go recalled the contents of the file once more.
His father had attempted a murder-suicide and only succeeded in killing himself, leaving the boy behind?
Shouldn’t they start with a psychiatric evaluation?
But with their tiny budget, sending him to psychiatry was too much of a burden.
“Don’t cause trouble.”
“Yes.”
Director Go issued a warning.
Of course, he didn’t expect the boy to understand everything from the very first sentence.
But after living inside the institution for a while, he would naturally learn what he should and shouldn’t do.
“Teacher Jung! Take him!”
“Yes, Director.”
Kyung-wan followed the officer called Teacher Jung.
Teacher Jung told Kyung-wan that he had to address the officers as “teacher.”
Kyung-wan nodded in acceptance.
A juvenile reformatory was different from a prison, or even a juvenile prison.
Should one say it was halfway between a school and a prison?
With basic education in subjects like Korean, English, and math, along with corrective programs, the institution focused on cultivating social skills and reforming behavior by enforcing basic rules and routines.
Naturally, there was no forced hard labor like in adult prisons.
“This is the new resident, Lee Kyung-wan. Everyone, live without causing problems.”
“I’m Lee Kyung-wan. I look forward to living well together.”
With a calm expression, Kyung-wan bowed his head and scanned the faces looking at him.
No one showed interest.
Everyone was either indifferent or cold.
There wasn’t a speck of liveliness.
Well, once they realized that half their life was already screwed, it wasn’t like they had the energy to show malicious curiosity toward others.
Anyone stupid or antisocial enough to still have such energy would’ve committed far worse crimes and ended up in a juvenile prison instead.
“This is your room.”
“It’s small, huh?”
Teacher Jung frowned at the comment.
This reaction was different from what he usually saw from new arrivals, and it bothered him.
Officers like him generally disliked unexpected variables.
He introduced the boy who would be sharing the room.
“This is Gong Tae-sik. Get along.”
“Hi, I’m Lee Kyung-wan.”
When Kyung-wan waved his hand and greeted him, Gong Tae-sik nodded with an unreadable expression.
After that, Teacher Jung handed him clothes and daily necessities, then instructed him on how life inside worked.
The main point he emphasized was the merit-demerit point system.
Simply put, if you behaved well, followed the rules, and lived diligently, you earned merit points.
If you acted like crap and caused trouble, you got demerit points.
The key was that this system served as the equivalent of parole in prison, here, it determined early release from the reformatory.
To boys desperate to escape this shitty place, merit points were strong motivation.
It was obvious why Teacher Jung emphasized the system.
It was the most efficient method of control.
“Understood?”
“Yes.”
“As you know, this isn’t like a normal school, even though you’ll be getting an education.”
“Yes.”
Kyung-wan nodded.
It felt like a military boot camp mixed with school.
In that sense… was the military similar to prison?
Anyway, life here was thoroughly regulated, and each day followed a strict schedule.
Dinner was surprisingly good.
It was the reformatory, not a prison, no way it would be worse than the military cafeteria, right?
They said prisons were better than the military these days anyway.
After dinner, they did laundry, bathed, and attended something called “moral education,” which meant listening to a radio or TV program.
It was a painfully boring lecture about how a person ought to live morally.
Only after that were they given free time.
[Bzz! Do not lie down.]
“…”
[Room 14! I said do NOT lie down!]
Hearing the voice booming from the speaker attached to the wall, Kyung-wan slowly lifted his upper body and leaned against the wall.
Only then did the speaker shut off.
Room 14 was the room he belonged to.
Gong Tae-sik, watching him, asked:
“Why are you here?”
Kyung-wan answered:
“I guess I exterminated pests a little too intensely.”
“What’s a pest?”
“Harmful animals.”
“And extermination?”
“Removal.”
“Oh… so like… you killed cats or something?”
“I didn’t kill them.”
“Then?”
“There’s something like that.”
Since Kyung-wan didn’t bother to explain further, Gong Tae-sik seemed to take it as “he doesn’t want to talk about it,” and stopped asking.
But even without being asked, Gong Tae-sik volunteered the reason he was here.
“I’m here for habitual theft.”
His family situation had been terrible.
A mother who ran away.
A father who returned home drunk.
Eventually the boy ran away, and the world was too cold for a minor without a guardian.
His charge of habitual theft had roots in all that.
Kyung-wan nodded.
To him, it was a cliché story.
“Yeah. You gotta survive somehow.”
“…”
Gong Tae-sik’s expression stiffened at the indifferent comment.
He didn’t speak again.
Seeing that reaction, Kyung-wan clicked his tongue inwardly.
Why had Gong Tae-sik revealed his charge?
Because he wanted to bond through the shared experience of being criminals.
He wanted a connection, someone to share mutual wounds with.
He must’ve been lonely.
Given the background he’d shared, there was no way he wasn’t lonely.
But Kyung-wan had no intention of becoming part of a relationship where they comforted each other by licking their wounds over their crimes.
Habitual theft?
Unfortunate background?
Trying to form a sense of kinship with him through such trivial karma and such shallow suffering was laughable.
Do you even know who I am?
Feeling a bit of pity for the poor child, Kyung-wan decided to give him advice that would serve him for life.
“Solitude is a skill.”
“… What does that mean?”
“Think about it. You’ll realize something.”
“…”
An awkward silence passed again.
Only the commercials from the tiny television could be heard.
When free time ended, everyone had a mandatory task: writing their diary.
Diary time was limited, and the diaries were collected the next morning for inspection.
Naturally, writing diligently earned merit points.
The diaries were used to evaluate the boys’ emotional states and assist in their reformation, so writing sincerely genuinely helped the process.
It was also a good method for secretly reporting injustices that teachers might not know about.
Kyung-wan also wrote his diary.
—I thought they were going to do an anal inspection, so I cleaned my ass thoroughly, but thankfully they didn’t. I guess that’s something different from prison.
—The room is clean, and the food is good. The schedule is a bit busy, which I don’t like, but since there’s heating and air conditioning, it seems like a nice place to stay warm and full.
“Teacher Jung, did you see this?”
“What is it?”
When senior officer Teacher Kim held up a diary, Teacher Jung asked what was going on.
Then after seeing what was written, he clicked his tongue.
“This kid thinks he’s at some kind of retreat.”
“Keep a close eye on him. He’s not normal.”
Even though juvenile records didn’t formally appear as criminal history, there were ways for insiders to know the crimes committed.
The staff already knew exactly why Kyung-wan had been admitted.
If they weren’t cautious with a boy who had turned six normal boys into eunuchs and cripples, then who the hell were they supposed to be cautious about?
It wasn’t that they’d never had violent offenders before, but Kyung-wan’s potential for violence was something worth watching carefully.
= = = = =
“Ugh… don’t wanna get up.”
Rubbing his eyes, Kyung-wan sat up.
Now the real daily schedule began.
He washed up, lined up for roll call, and moved to the education building.
Teacher Jung told him he was lucky to be born in good times.
In the old days, middle schoolers and high schoolers mixed together and had to listen to lame lectures like “If you smoke, your teeth will look like this.”
But now that online education had advanced so much, he could study whatever he wanted at his level and pace.
What an amazing era.
Aside from basic academics like Korean, English, and math, he could also study for any computer or technical certification he wanted.
Just like the TV dramas showed, even a juvenile reformatory kid could theoretically become a law school student someday.
“I see.”
Kyung-wan nodded, and Teacher Jung led him to a computer.
A headset, keyboard, and mouse were placed there.
This was his seat from now on.
Watching Teacher Jung set up the computer, he recalled what he said.
Study anything you want?
Become successful in society?
It was a hopeful statement, at least for people with a brain for studying.
Kyung-wan stared blankly at the education video on the screen.
The lessons were indeed well taught.
The top instructors of South Korea, who made their names in the fierce world of private education, lived up to their reputations.
But human memory was volatile.
No matter how hard the instructors hammered information into your head, keeping it there depended entirely on your own ability and effort.
“He’s concentrating, huh?”
“Let’s watch a little longer.”
The teachers who hovered behind him to ensure he didn’t wander into inappropriate websites exchanged impressions as they watched him calmly stare at the screen.
A day had passed.
They needed to understand what kind of boy he was in order to reform him.
And on the second day, Kyung-wan finally caused trouble.
“I heard you hit your friend.”
Director Go Baek-cheol had called him for counseling.
Kyung-wan calmly replied:
“He’s not my friend.
But yes, I hit him.”
“Why?”
“Well, you know that thing that often happens between energetic young males, right?
Establishing hierarchy?”
“There is no such thing in this school.”
Director Go said firmly.
Age-based deference existed, but not hierarchy.
These kids had lived rough, without anyone to protect them.
To teach them a healthy sense of hierarchy, the core rule was to keep them strictly separated except during supervised group activities like physical education.
By keeping all group activity under the teachers’ eyes, no unsupervised groups could form.
Such groups only created bad influences among the kids.
Kyung-wan shook his head.