Was He a Hero?
Han Gi-tae, the top student officer of Police Academy Class 310, had been born and raised in what was, by all appearances, a well-respected police family.
His grandfather had retired after serving as the head of the National Police Agency’s investigation division. His father was the chief of public safety at a provincial police agency, and his uncle worked in the National Police Agency’s investigation planning office.
So whenever the family gathered for the holidays, the conversation inevitably revolved around police work.
Naturally, even the children grew up in an atmosphere where becoming a police officer felt like destiny.
The problem was that there were simply too many capable people in the family.
His older brother, a graduate of the Korea National Police University, had followed the elite track and was rising fast.
His cousins, who were about the same age, had either entered the same university or passed the Police Officer Candidate examination.
By contrast, Han Gi-tae had botched the CSAT so badly that he hadn’t even been able to apply to the police university, and after failing the candidate exam five years in a row, he had finally been forced to take the ordinary police recruitment route.
So even though he had seen the two letters he had dreamed of—passed—he felt humiliation rather than relief.
Damn it. What a loser’s path.
Han Gi-tae considered himself a failed son in a family of police officers.
And that was true even though no one in the family had ever blamed him or scolded him for it.
The moment he entered the police academy, he made up his mind.
He might have come in as a rank-and-file recruit, but he would earn his family’s recognition through overwhelming performance.
From that point on, Han Gi-tae became a completely different person.
His exam scores were always at the very top, and he knew the school regulations more thoroughly than the instructors themselves.
He was so perfect in group life that he naturally rose to the position of top student officer.
His goal was one and only one thing.
I’ll graduate top of the class and get the President’s Award. I will, no matter what.
That was how Han Gi-tae’s self-image worked.
I’m the family’s failure. So I have to show them something now, before it’s too late. If I don’t, I have no reason to exist.
He was more desperate than anyone else, and that made it easier for him to do anything without hesitation.
And so Han Gi-tae used the position of student officer to press down on his competitors.
He did it so skillfully that no one noticed.
Whenever he saw someone who might threaten him, he watched them with obsessive care.
He scrutinized them relentlessly, looking for even the smallest flaw, and when he found something that seemed usable, he would report it to an instructor under the guise of concern.
Because even the tiniest thing could affect evaluations.
The top student officer was the official channel between instructors and recruits.
Nothing about it was particularly strange.
As graduation drew closer and closer, Han Gi-tae became certain.
The top spot is mine, without question. I’m going to keep climbing exactly like this.
While the others might get assigned to local precincts or riot squads, he could still land a spot in a provincial police investigation unit.
If everything went according to plan, he could even catch up to his older brother someday.
Han Gi-tae believed that.
I’ll do it. I’ll definitely do it.
His eyes burned with madness.
And then, just as he was cruising toward the destination called top honors, he ran into an unexpected reef.
No—at first, he had only thought it was a bit of floating debris.
But that debris soon became irritating beyond belief.
“Perfect! That last posture was good enough to go in a textbook.”
The arrest technique instructor, famous for being strict and terrifying, was looking at one recruit with eyes full of adoration.
Song Tan. A presence that had recently been making Han Gi-tae’s nerves unravel.
At first, he hadn’t even known the name.
But Song Tan began to stand out in arrest techniques, then kept distinguishing himself in every practical subject.
What the hell is this guy?
So Han Gi-tae started by digging up information on him.
What? He was just a kid?
He was too young. Far too young.
Han Gi-tae felt a flicker of relief.
When a sprout is growing, you’ve got to stomp it flat while it’s still easy.
It wasn’t something he could ignore. Shooting, martial arts, arrest techniques, investigation practice, and even driving.
The scores in every practical subject were absurdly high.
Of course, being named the best recruit—top of the class—wasn’t decided by test scores alone.
Conduct, attitude, and leadership all had to be taken into account, which meant no one could seriously compare themselves to him, the top student officer.
Even so, Han Gi-tae wanted to crush Song Tan.
He couldn’t stand the idea that some insect was above him in even one or two subjects.
So Han Gi-tae began by targeting Song Tan’s people.
As always, he did it very naturally.
“Hey, Lee Seung-ho.”
“Huh? Gi-tae?!”
At Han Gi-tae’s call, Lee Seung-ho brightened and hurried over.
“You got back a little late after your time out, right? I spoke to the instructor and smoothed it over so it would only end with a warning. Just so you know.”
“Seriously!? Thanks, Gi-tae. I was freaking out about getting demerits, man... You saved me.”
Han Gi-tae patted Lee Seung-ho’s shoulder with a friendly smile.
“Idiot, I told you to trust me. I said I’d handle it.”
“Isn’t the fact that you’re our class’s student officer the luckiest thing that’s ever happened in my police life? Haha. Anyway, seriously, thanks. I’ll pay you back somehow.”
“Pay me back? Forget it.”
Waving it off, Han Gi-tae asked casually, “By the way, what’s that Song Tan kid in your room even like? How is there some kind of practical monstrosity like that?”
“Oh, our youngest? Makes sense, really. He’s ridiculously diligent.”
“Diligent? He seems to coast through class pretty casually.”
“That’s easy to misunderstand, but he’s not like that at all. He gets up alone every dawn and reviews everything. He’s viciously disciplined.”
“Reviews in the early morning...?”
Han Gi-tae trailed off, caught off guard.
“I once woke up in the middle of the night because I needed to pee. He was sitting on his bed with his eyes closed. At first I thought he had sleepwalking, but no—he said he was meditating and reviewing what we learned the day before. I almost died laughing.”
Lee Seung-ho gave a snort and muttered under his breath, “Still, there’s something admirable about him. For a guy who dropped out after getting dragged into school violence...”
“School violence?”
Han Gi-tae’s head snapped up, his eyes widening.
At last, as if he’d found something.
“What kind of school violence? Tell me in detail.”
“I don’t really know. I only heard it from Song Tan in passing.”
“Tell me even that. It’s fine.”
At Han Gi-tae’s insistence, Lee Seung-ho tilted his head.
“Why are you suddenly so interested in our youngest?”
When Lee Seung-ho gave him a squinty look, Han Gi-tae puckered his lips.
“What’s wrong with the student officer being interested in a recruit? And I can’t ask you about that much? Don’t make me feel bad, man.”
Seeing him hesitate, Lee Seung-ho scratched his head.
“It’s nothing major, really... He just got caught up in a serious school violence case back in school, and... the thing got twisted somehow, and he ended up as the attacker...”
“Oh?!”
Han Gi-tae’s face lit up before he could stop himself, and then he quickly composed himself and checked his wrist.
“Looks like it’s almost time for the education committee meeting. Sorry. I’ve got to go.”
After tossing out a half-hearted goodbye, Han Gi-tae vanished in a gust.
Left alone, Lee Seung-ho stared after him with an incredulous expression.
“What was that? He didn’t even plan to hear the whole thing.”
Muttering to himself, Lee Seung-ho headed back toward the dormitory.
He had no idea that something said offhandedly like that could set off such a butterfly effect.
***
A few days later, Song Tan’s steps came to a stop in front of a door at the end of the hallway.
The nameplate read: Student Affairs Conference Room.
He had been summoned out of nowhere for an impromptu interview.
Knock, knock, knock.
A voice from beyond the door said, “Come in.”
When he entered, four people were seated on the other side of a long table.
In the center sat the head of student affairs, with the guidance section chief on his right and another guidance officer on his left.
They were, in effect, grim reapers holding the power of life and death over the recruits.
A little apart from them sat the top student officer, Han Gi-tae, with his hands folded politely.
“What are you standing around for? Sit.”
At the guidance section chief’s brusque order, Song Tan sat across from them.
It felt like an interview. Or, looked at another way, like an interrogation.
“Recruit Song Tan of Class 310. Do you know why you were called here?”
“No, I don’t.”
All three sets of eyes pinned him at once.
Their gazes were cold, as though they were looking at a criminal.
“Now then, from here on out, answer our questions honestly. If even a little lie is mixed in, you could suffer very serious disadvantages. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
It was a heavy pressure for a mere recruit to bear.
Song Tan nodded calmly.
“We received a report... that during your high school years, you were involved in school violence. Is that correct?”
Song Tan nodded without emotion.
“That’s correct.”
“That’s correct?”
The three of them looked at one another.
They hadn’t expected him to admit it so readily.
“Ahem. But why is there no record of it?”
“I’m not sure about that much. My guardian handled the rest.”
At Song Tan’s answer, the three leaned in together and whispered.
“Did they hush it up with money?”
“Even so, there should be at least a line in the student record... How much did they have to throw at it...?”
The misunderstanding deepened, and their eyes on Song Tan grew even colder.
“Top student officer. What’s the general reputation of Recruit Song Tan among his classmates?”
Han Gi-tae answered as if he had been waiting for the question.
“As far as I know, he’s been keeping a low profile... but some recruits have said they felt uneasy or even afraid of him.”
“Explain.”
“Sometimes he gives people a look that feels like he’s looking down on them, and he can have a very overbearing attitude... but only occasionally. Maybe he was under a lot of stress that day, or perhaps he wasn’t feeling well.”
It sounded like a defense, but the implication was clearly negative.
The expressions of the three became even more serious.
“Listen, Recruit Song Tan.”
“Yes.”
“This is a very serious matter. A police officer is supposed to protect justice, yet you were involved in school violence?”
Bang, bang.
The head of student affairs slapped the table as he pressed him.
“It seems you’re feeling secure because there’s no record left, but the situation isn’t that simple. If we pursue this properly, you could even be dismissed for concealing a major disciplinary history during the application process. Right now.”
The person involved, Song Tan, was honestly stunned.
They had clearly already reached their conclusion without any intention of hearing his side properly.
Was it because of that bastard?
Song Tan glanced to his right.
Han Gi-tae, the top student officer, was twitching the corners of his mouth again and again.
Why...?
Why would someone he had never even met show that much malice toward him?
He couldn’t make sense of it at all.
“Do you have anything else you’d like to say, Recruit Song Tan?”
Song Tan opened his mouth with a composed expression.
“I did leave school because of school violence, but that was because I was the victim, not the perpetrator.”
[DING~ DING-DIRIRING~ DINGDING~]
Song Tan’s explanation was drowned out miserably by the ringing of a phone.
Frowning, the head of student affairs checked the caller ID and hurriedly answered, holding the phone with both hands.
“Yes, yes—hello, School Director. Ah, I was in the middle of an interview because we have one problem student here.”
Then his eyes suddenly flew wide open.
“What!? The vice director is here now!? What do you mean, without any prior notice?”
As his voice rose higher and higher, silence settled over the room.
“Wh, who did you say you were looking for? Class 310’s Song Tan?”
Almost naturally, everyone’s gaze turned to one person.
“A hero who subdued an armed attacker... Song Tan, the recruit?”
No one could say another word.