The Rotten High School Girl (2)
After that, before I could even finish drafting the complaint and the statement, Seong-gyun burst into the headquarters director’s office, dragging a man by the scruff of his neck.
“Hey, this isn’t Managing Director Bang Changho. He’s only a deputy managing director. What the hell did this guy do?”
Deputy managing director was one rank below the managing director title Bang Jiseon had been bragging about. Judging from the tension between Seong-gyun and Bang Changho, Seong-gyun must have given him a thorough dressing-down on the way over. Seong-gyun was fuming, still not entirely sure what had happened. Bang Changho, meanwhile, looked as though he had been hauled to headquarters without any explanation and was ready to prostrate himself before the chairman at any moment. Now that the Central Management Headquarters director had appeared, his expression was on the verge of shifting from despair to outright collapse.
He looked to be in his forties—past forty, but not yet fifty. At that age, holding the position of deputy managing director at QS Display meant he wasn’t without ability. His daughter had every reason to be proud of him. It would have been nice if Bang Jiseon had used that pride to strengthen her family instead of wielding it against her classmates. She wasn’t even an executive at QS Group herself, so why had she tried to lord her father’s position over everyone?
Bang Jiseon was the classic case of a high schooler who only half understood how the world worked. At a school like Daeheon Foreign Language High School, the one Shinyong attended, there were bound to be at least one or two students whose fathers outranked the deputy managing director of QS Display. It was one of the few elite high schools left in Korea after the equalization policy, where the diploma itself carried weight. I didn’t need to investigate further, but if there had been a child of a high-ranking JB Group executive in her class or the next one over, I could only imagine how much they must have sneered at her behind her back.
The fault was entirely Bang Jiseon’s, yet simply because I sat at the heart of QS Tower, I felt my own face growing hot with embarrassment.
While I was silently turning over her mistakes in my mind, Bang Changho’s face grew increasingly ashen until he finally dropped to his knees.
“I’m sorry.”
He clearly didn’t even know what he was apologizing for yet. First things first—preventing further harm, the highest priority under criminal law.
“Someone else is the one who did wrong. Since we’re all gathered here anyway, I’d like your daughter to join us so we can discuss this together.”
Bang Changho’s head snapped up, hands still resting on his knees.
“I’d like that too, but it’s four o’clock. She’s probably in the middle of class. I’m sorry.”
“Are you saying this matter is less important than your daughter’s class?”
“N-no, of course not. It’s just that while she’s at school, I have no way to contact her. They collect phones right after students arrive.”
While Bang Changho and I were talking, Seong-gyun, who had been simmering beside us, cut in.
“Then I’ll call her.”
Without waiting for an answer, Seong-gyun pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and made the call.
“Is this Daeheon Foreign Language High School? Put me through to the principal’s office. This is the Central Management Headquarters of the QS Group, calling regarding a criminal incident that occurred on school grounds.”
We were indeed inside the Central Management Headquarters at QS Tower, but he was speaking as if he were the director himself. I almost laughed. It had nothing to do with the school violence Shinyong had suffered, but Seong-gyun’s attitude was worth remembering. For now, he was moving exactly as I had intended when I called him here, so I decided to let it slide.
During the call, Seong-gyun summoned not only the principal but also the vice principal, Shinyong’s homeroom teacher, and Bang Jiseon herself.
* * *
Less than an hour after Kim Majin left and I called Seong-gyun, quite a crowd had gathered in my office. Seong-gyun and Bang Changho, who had been summoned immediately, along with the principal and vice principal of Daeheon Foreign Language High School, Shinyong’s homeroom teacher, and Bang Jiseon, were all present. I had barely managed to stop Seong-gyun from also calling the Seoul Metropolitan Office of Education superintendent and the Minister of Education. The mere mention of the QS Group’s Central Management Headquarters name had made everything move at lightning speed. If I had tried to gather everyone with legal responsibility through normal channels, it would have taken over a year—filing witness requests, dealing with people claiming they couldn’t attend, feigning illness on the day of testimony. It might even have been impossible.
Looking at everyone seated around the conference table in my office, I was struck once again by how far I had risen from being just a lawyer.
I pulled out the central chair and sat down. Six pairs of eyes turned toward me at once. None of them knew exactly why they were here, so I was about to begin explaining the case when someone interrupted.
“I have a performance assessment presentation next period. I spent three days and nights preparing it. Hurry up and finish this.”
It was Bang Jiseon—the very person responsible for bringing everyone together. Was she truly that ignorant of how the world worked, or was she just trying to seize the initiative because she was scared? Either way, I had no intention of going easy on her, and I certainly wasn’t the type to be intimidated by such a shallow ploy.
“Miss Bang Jiseon?”
Her eyes twitched at the corners as she forced out a reply.
“What?”
“You won’t need to give that presentation. It won’t be reflected in your grades anyway.”
“What are you talking about? It’s for this semester’s English class—”
The homeroom teacher sitting across from her cut her off.
“Jiseon, I’m here too, so the presentation will be postponed. We can talk about grades once we’re back at school. For now, let’s listen to what’s being said.”
From the way she spoke, the young female teacher with the long, straight hair that looked ready to stand on end from tension was both the homeroom teacher and the English instructor. She looked like she had only recently graduated from university, yet she was handling this unprecedented crisis with remarkable composure. Apparently, the QS Group’s second- and third-in-command, her school’s principal and vice principal, and her own father weren’t as frightening to Bang Jiseon as the teacher who directly controlled her grades. Fortunately, she closed her mouth after a brief pout. The principal and vice principal, who had been terrified, looked visibly relieved. Seong-gyun and Bang Changho also kept their anger in check and turned their eyes to me.
I passed around the school violence records Kim Majin had left behind. After summarizing what Kim Majin had said about how devastating the incident had been for one student, I added a few words of my own.
“As a lawyer, I will of course be pursuing both civil and criminal proceedings regarding this case.”
Bang Jiseon immediately opened her mouth again.
“I’m a minor, so I can’t be criminally punished, right? At most it’ll be protective measures. Juvenile detention doesn’t even leave a criminal record. If you send me, I’ll go. The maximum is two years anyway. Studying for two years at my age and then going to university won’t set me back at all.”
So that was what she had been counting on when she acted so brazenly? She clearly hadn’t studied the law thoroughly enough. Even though Korea’s Juvenile Act was lenient, it didn’t grant unlimited mercy. While Bang Changho beside her twitched as if he wanted to cover his daughter’s mouth, I laid out the facts cleanly.
“You seem to know about juvenile detention centers but not juvenile prisons. You looked into protective measures, I see. Those are only for sentences under two years. For more serious crimes, you don’t go to a juvenile detention center—you go to the juvenile prison in Gimcheon. In that case, a criminal record is naturally recorded.”
Bang Jiseon and Bang Changho’s faces turned pale at the same time. The principal, who looked close to retirement, pleaded earnestly.
“Your words are absolutely correct. Still, this incident occurred at our school, and I offer my deepest apologies. Even so, since it happened in an educational setting, couldn’t you give us a chance to guide the students in the right direction rather than applying strict legal standards?”
“If I give you that chance, what measures do you intend to take?”
“We’ll have the perpetrator apologize to the victim and ensure through repeated counseling with our staff that this never happens again—”
I felt a sudden urge to slap the table. Before I could, Seong-gyun spoke for me.
“You’re going to give the person who did wrong counseling instead of punishment?”
“W-well, of course there would also be disciplinary measures such as in-school service—”
The principal’s words were cut off again.
“In-school service instead of expulsion? That’s enough. Principal, please step aside for a moment. Deputy Managing Director Bang Changho? Effective tomorrow, by the authority of the representative director, you are transferred to the QS Display factory in Jincheon County. Take your daughter and get out of here.”
Bang Changho squeezed his eyes shut, unable to even wipe away the tears streaming down his face, and begged.
“I’m truly sorry. I have nothing to say. If you tell me to go to the Damyeong factory, I’ll go. If you tell me to leave the company, I’ll leave. But please, at least spare my daughter.”
Seong-gyun stared at Bang Changho as if he were an insect, then turned to me.
“Ho-gyun. So what exactly can we do legally? That girl over there is still glaring at me. Can we at least arrest her today and start from there?”
I felt the same way, but there was a chronic problem with almost every legal procedure.
“Not right away. It’ll take time. Even if the investigative agency takes notice of a case like this, they won’t immediately request an arrest warrant. It’ll take several months of various processes. From what the principal said earlier, it sounds like they plan to keep Miss Bang Jiseon and Shinyong in the same school during that time.”
The principal, whose face had turned as blue as Bang Changho’s after his earlier misstep, quickly offered an alternative.
“For now, we can immediately separate the two students into different classes starting today—”
Seong-gyun slammed his hand on the table. The vice principal hurriedly intervened. Assigning them to different classes still meant they would see each other in the same school and same grade. How was that acceptable?
“Principal, according to our school regulations, we can issue a suspension in cases like this. I’ll convene the guidance committee right now and complete the procedure today.”
The principal, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief he had pulled from his pocket, nodded as if he finally understood how badly he had misjudged the situation.
“Yes, please do that. I’ll delegate full authority over this matter to the vice principal. Please ensure the victim is properly protected and the perpetrator is strictly punished.”
* * *
Bang Jiseon, who had been watching the entire process, alternated her glare between Seong-gyun and me, her lips twitching.