You Reap What You Sow
The title of the video uploaded to YouTube read:
A title with such irresistible clickbait power that it was impossible not to press play.
In fact, it had already racked up more than 100,000 views, and the comments had long since passed the thousand mark.
In a bleak, abandoned factory, students in school uniforms stood around with cigarettes hanging from their mouths, snickering among themselves.
By contrast, the student facing them looked impossibly slight.
And then things got even more absurd.
The rowdy students began collapsing one after another before the emaciated boy.
The problem was that the whole thing looked less like a fight and more like a perfectly choreographed stage play.
At first, people assumed the students were doing stunt work, matching each other’s moves like action performers.
But then testimony began pouring in through the comments, and it was revealed that the footage was real.
The homeroom teacher, after scrolling through the flood of comments, looked at the dumbfounded parents.
“This is what’s online right now. What do you think?”
“H-how on earth did this happen?”
“Delete it immediately! The kids’ faces are all over it!”
The delinquent students’ parents, who had only just regained their senses, began to kick up a commotion.
Because the camera angle focused on the larger group, their faces were exposed far too clearly.
The teacher swept them with a cold look.
“I can’t delete this myself. And that isn’t the important issue right now. You all claimed Song Tan was the perpetrator of school violence, but…”
The teacher pointed at the TV screen.
“It looks like the real perpetrators are someone else. And since they even brought weapons, the charges will be even more serious.”
“Is that what matters right now!? At this rate, it’s only a matter of time before our kids’ identities get leaked! What are we supposed to do about our son!? You should be telling us how you plan to handle that first!”
“Exactly. I heard if there’s a school-violence record these days, you can’t even get into college… What are we going to do?”
The teacher shook his head, looking disgusted.
“That seems like a problem for later. Now that the facts are clear, we’ll need to convene the school violence committee first.”
“What did you say!?”
As the situation veered in a direction no one had expected, the parents exchanged looks with one another.
Then they all nodded.
“Wait a minute.”
Kim Hyeok-jin’s mother slammed her palm onto the desk.
“Do you have proof that video is real?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, nowadays with AI and everything, faking a video is nothing.”
“That’s right. If someone wants to, it can be done.”
“And even if not, couldn’t that student have deliberately set a trap and staged the whole thing to make it look that way?”
The teacher’s face darkened at the absurdly forced argument.
“What nonsense are you—”
“No! Are you saying our kids are idiots!?”
Kim Hyeok-jin’s mother let out a shrill shout, as if determined to prove that the loudest voice would win.
“Common sense says this makes no sense. Nearly ten kids charge him with clubs, and he comes out looking that fine? Does that sound believable to you?”
She glared at Song Tan.
“Am I wrong? It’s weird. Too weird.”
“Yeah! Why are only our kids hurt? That kid should’ve broken at least one bone!”
“It’s obviously a manipulated video made on purpose.”
“He’s holding a grudge. Trying to ruin the kids’ lives on purpose.”
“I heard his family’s not well off. Is this how he’s trying to blow off his inferiority complex? Unbelievable.”
“Don’t even get me started. Kids these days are terrifying.”
One remark piled on top of the next, the words turning more and more grotesque.
Song Tan, watching the filthy spectacle, uncrossed his arms.
He had already decided there was no point in listening any longer.
There was evidence enough to fill a warehouse. All that remained was to file a police report.
The only problem was that the level of punishment was all too easy to predict.
At best, they’ll write some soulless apology letter and do a few hours of community service. That’ll be the end of it.
They were from wealthy families, so they’d hire lawyers first and have every statement combed over by legal eyes.
In the end, they’d try to muddy the waters with a frame of mutual assault, horseplay, or an impulsive scuffle.
Even worse, if they clung to the case stubbornly enough, his father could end up dragged into trouble too.
For anything else, he didn’t really care. But that—he had no desire to see.
Either way, those bastards will be suffering for the rest of their lives.
The damage wasn’t severe, but their meridians had been injured.
They might not feel pain right away, but as time went on, they would steadily lose strength.
No matter how good the hospital or how expensive the tests, they’ll never find anything.
Ironically, it was an internal injury that would be easy to treat in Murim, yet in this world it would be hard to detect at all.
There weren’t many people who knew how to work with qi.
Like frogs slowly boiled alive in a pot.
No one would notice a thing as they paid for their crimes, little by little, until the day they could no longer stand it.
That was Song Tan’s own brand of punishment for them.
While he was lost in his thoughts,
“Anyway! We’re filing a formal complaint and pressing charges. Against that student, Song Tan.”
Kim Hyeok-jin’s mother deliberately raised her voice, as if declaring war.
“Teacher, you should understand that clearly too.”
“No, even so, going that far is…”
The teacher could immediately see what they were after.
If they came down hard like this, Song Tan, whose family clearly wasn’t well off, would get scared—and then they could seize the advantage.
“You. Go call your father right now. The adults need to talk.”
Just as the teacher, desperate to keep the matter from spiraling further, was trying to calm them down somehow—
Bang.
The meeting-room door burst open, and a group of people strode in.
Three men in immaculate suits entered first, followed by a middle-aged woman with a refined, graceful gait.
Something about them was so unusual that the room fell silent at once.
The mysterious woman smiled at the teacher.
“Perfect timing. I’m Song Tan’s guardian.”
Her introduction sent a murmur rippling through the parents.
From what they had heard, hadn’t he been raised by a disabled widowed father?
Everyone turned to one another in confusion.
Song Tan was just as surprised himself.
Because the woman’s identity was none other than Na Hye-ran, the wife of President Im Gwan-hun, under whom his father worked.
His father, who had said he was coming, was nowhere to be seen, and Song Tan had no idea why she was here.
Perhaps sensing his stare, Na Hye-ran gave him a small, reassuring smile.
The look said not to worry from this point on.
Na Hye-ran, who had seized control of the room in an instant, slowly—very slowly—looked around at the parents.
“I believe I just heard something about filing charges…”
“And if we are?”
One parent lifted his chin.
“Oh, how convenient. We were preparing the same thing.”
With a gesture from Na Hye-ran, the men in suits handed out business cards to the parents one by one.
“We’re Song Tan’s legal team from Haeon Law Firm.”
“His legal team…?”
“Wait…! Haeon Law Firm?”
The weight of one of Korea’s top five law firms settled over the room, and the air grew heavy all over again.
“From this point on, anything related to Student Song Tan must be directed through us.”
“Why would a giant firm like Haeon take on a student like him…?”
Everyone just stood there with their mouths hanging open, as if their brains had stopped working.
“Listening from outside, you all seemed to be saying very interesting things.”
“What exactly did we do?”
“Here are the facts as confirmed so far. First, multiple students forcibly led Song Tan to the abandoned factory. We have already secured CCTV footage proving that.”
Her voice was low, and there wasn’t a trace of emotion in it. That only made it more intimidating.
“Second, the scene was filmed by a third party, and its authenticity has already been submitted for expert verification.”
When one parent tried to cut in, the lawyer raised a hand to stop him.
“Hear me out to the end before you respond. It’ll be more favorable for you legally as well.”
At the chill in her tone, silence fell once more.
“As for the claims you’re making now—‘manipulation,’ ‘a setup,’ ‘possible accomplice’ and so on… yes, you may make those claims. However, please be aware that baseless allegations may constitute defamation through the public statement of false facts under Article 307 of the Criminal Act.”
“Cough…”
The parents flinched at the cold, even-toned voice.
Those who had been shouting a moment ago were now exchanging nervous looks.
“Also, any mention of the victim’s family background is a clear violation of personal rights and secondary victimization. Let me state plainly that civil and criminal liability may already apply even before the school violence committee convenes.”
Someone among the parents swallowed hard.
“And lastly, the most important point: in the current situation, your children are highly likely to be classified not as victims, but as a group of perpetrators. If you proceed with an unreasonable criminal complaint from that position, we will be examining retaliatory charges and false accusation as well.”
“W-we weren’t trying to threaten anyone…”
Snap.
The lawyer shut the document folder.
“This matter will leave the school and go straight to court. At that point, the guardians may also become defendants. Please understand that clearly.”
There was no more uproar after that.
The voices that had been making the loudest objections all fell silent, staring down at the floor.
The pressure that they might end up serving prison time by getting dragged into a children’s fight had made them suddenly very well behaved.
At some point, Na Hye-ran had taken the seat beside Song Tan. She turned her head and fixed her gaze on Kim Hyeok-jin’s mother.
Her red lips parted slightly, and a soft sound of recognition slipped out.
“Ah, I see now. I was wondering where I’d seen you before.”
“....?”
“You were the broker handling a building I own in Mapo District, weren’t you?”
The color drained from Kim Hyeok-jin’s mother’s face as something came back to her.
“This is why you should never leave property management to an agent… I was far too complacent.”
“No way…”
“I won’t be using you to broker any of my properties from now on. You’ve worked hard until now.”
“M-Madam!?”
Kim Hyeok-jin’s mother’s legs gave out, and she collapsed where she stood.
She had never imagined she’d lose her most stable, and biggest, client in a way like this.
Worse still was the influence that wealthy lady had in the Mapo District real estate market.
One word from her, and a lowly broker like herself would be finished in this industry.
“Madam! I think there’s been some misunderstanding. Please, at least hear me out—”
No matter how she reacted, Na Hye-ran ignored her and turned to the teacher.
“Proceed with the school violence committee as required. We’ll separately pursue civil and criminal complaints. That settles it, yes?”
“Ah? O-oh… yes.”
The teacher nodded, looking as though he’d been possessed.
Na Hye-ran gave Song Tan’s shoulder a light pat.
“Shall we head out now? Everyone’s waiting.”
“Who is?”
“Who else? Your father and my husband.”
So not only had the madam come, but the president had called as well.
At this point, he was genuinely curious.
Just what had his father said, and how, to make these two come down here personally?