Who Executes the Executioner?

I plopped down on the torn-up, wrecked sofa. I'd made time to come all the way here. Figured I'd hear both sides out while I was at it.

"You feel wronged?"

"Y-Yeah! You saw that post on the gallery, right?"

I looked at the woman.

"I read you the post and comments from the gallery. Mostly ripping into this guy, but some defending him too."

"You didn't have to."

"Hoped you'd reflect on what other people think."

Maybe it was the apology she wanted. Admit your mistakes, own up. Everyone says you were wrong, right? But from the looks of it, things hadn't gone smoothly.

"What's so wronged about it? That you're not the judge in question?"

"......N-No, I was the one handling that trial."

The judge's eyes flickered for a moment. Like she was debating whether to lie. But she caught the woman's glare and backpedaled. With the main party right there, word games wouldn't fly.

"B-But that couldn't be helped."

"Couldn't be helped?"

"We're not gods. Victims and perpetrators—we have to weigh every case and circumstance for our rulings. Our mission is to ensure not even one innocent suffers, even if we let a hundred guilty walk."

The judge swallowed hard, defending herself.

"Trials aren't meant for revenge in the first place. We just rule on criminality and isolate them from society to prevent more crimes."

"But didn't those perp students show up in front of your daughter again?"

"Th-That's an administrative limit. Realistically, we can't track every minor's whereabouts and restrict them all. No runaways if we could. This is a free country, after all."

"Hmm."

Maybe because I looked bored. The judge's words grew frantic.

"The law is a mechanism to stabilize society! But too many mistake it for just punishing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠criminals. That's not its role."

"......"

"If we could just lock every criminal away—bam, bam, bam—life would be easy. No work for me either. But it'd just create more injustices."

"I see."

I stood after hearing her out. Good call coming here. Hearing different perspectives, mulling them over—it helps.

Doesn't matter what her true heart or essence is.

Words alone can't judge a person. Or prove yourself. Words mean nothing. They're too light.

"Thanks for sharing. Interesting stuff."

"W-Wait!"

As I turned to leave, the judge called out desperately.

"W-Was there something off about what I said?"

"Nah, not really. Setting aside my purely personal feelings, I get how you could think that way."

"Th-Then why just leave? If I'm right... if I'm right, you should help me!"

"You're saying weird shit."

I chuckled.

"Didn't you just say emotions making something feel 'right' doesn't make it actually right? That's the law, you said."

"What...?"

"You've presided over tons of trials, right? Did the law always side with the righteous? Nah—you just admitted it yourself."

"E-Even so, we tried our best to be just!"

"Making me repeat myself. It's not about right or wrong."

My gaze shifted to the woman standing expressionless.

"It's how the executioner judges it."

Words dragged on. But I decided not to get involved in this revenge. Like I said a bunch of times, I'm not the one judging right and wrong. That's for whoever holds the knife. I don't have humanity overflowing enough to share that burden.

"Your story was genuinely interesting, though. Judge thing, I guess—you talk well."

I left those words and walked to the woman's side. She, who'd been glaring holes through the judge, finally noticed me.

"Done talking?"

"Yeah. Thanks for making the time."

"No biggie. Plenty of time till revenge anyway."

"......You look bored."

"What that guy said was exactly what he'd told me."

I nodded quietly. Why risk posting on the gallery? Starting to get it. Even daughter's revenge needs a 'valid reason' for some people.

"......Thanks."

The woman bowed slightly to me.

"......Didn't do enough to deserve thanks."

"Still grateful."

"For what?"

She looked down briefly, then said,

"Everything."

I didn't leave right away. Not oblivious enough to stick around and watch, either. Just waited from a nearby building. I'd stuck my foot in deep without meaning to. Felt responsible to at least see the end.

"Hmm."

Munching a chocolate bar, waiting for the execution. Then, a change hit.

......If there's a god in this world, he's got ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one twisted sense of humor.

-Rumble

The building, already cracked and precarious, collapsed with a roar. Not totally, but half-crumbled, raining debris—a disaster for anyone inside.

......Didn't see this coming.

Wonder what's it like in there? Who died, who lived? Or all dead?

As I watched, someone burst out.

"Hah! Hah!"

It was the judge. Wrists bound in front, limping—hurt leg, probably. The woman chased with her weapon.

No way both survived.

Collapse gave them an escape chance, at least. But hands tied, injured—he'd get caught quick.

"Gaaah!"

The judge screamed back at the woman almost on him. But he missed something. A zombie lunged from the alley he was running into.

......This the ending? Fail revenge, get bit, both zombies. Fitting, maybe.

But another twist.

"Nooo!"

The woman, inches from grabbing him, charged the zombie instead. Why? Insisted on doing revenge herself? Reflex in the panic?

Her weapon barely pierced the zombie. Three bodies tangled and fell.

First up: the judge, grabbing a rock with bound hands.

-Thwack!

Rock smashed her temple as she lay. Blood splattered the rock and ground.

"Fuck! Fuck! You worthless bitch! Tryna kill me?!"

Not done.

"I'm a Seoul Law grad! If the world wasn't like this, trash like you couldn't even sit at my table!"

Slam after slam. Killing not by law, but raw emotion—the judge grinned creepily.

"Know whose daughter that was? Sitting congresswoman from the ruling party! Congresswoman! And a fatherless slut like you dares?!"

Kept smashing till she stopped moving. Blood-soaked, he panted.

"......"

I watched, then descended slowly. He spotted me, turned.

"Oh, you from before? Perfect timing. Untie me. I'll forgive everything, even give you money—"

"......Told you earlier. I don't know right from wrong."

"What? Wait, why the casual talk all sudden...?"

"So this ain't a judgment. Just personal."

Fist flew. Adrenaline from the scene? Couldn't hold back. Jaw hit snapped his neck.

"Guh... guh...."

Staggered, crashed down.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Head bouncing off alley wall and ground till still. I stared coldly.

No righteous souls here. Just pathetic humans.

Varied reactions. Judge dead—good riddance. Mom dead—sad. How could this happen? All over the place.

And ironically, I changed the most from this.

Somehow I'd become gallery famous. Bound to happen eventually. All these stories in the world—waste keeping 'em to myself.

"Hmm."