Chapter 56
Neither Kang Minjae nor I spoke a word on the drive to the hospital. He was lost in thought the entire time behind the wheel, and I had my own worries weighing on me.
My ability was undeniably convenient—a power any lawyer or prosecutor would kill for, one that pierced straight through to the speaker's innermost thoughts. But if the other person had no desire to talk, it yielded nothing. Provoking Jincheol just to extract something from him would surely amount to a kind of violence. Whether it was right to even mention the right to remain silent to a victim, I wasn't sure, but it was a right anyone in Korea could invoke. That made it all the more crucial to get Jincheol to open up of his own accord.
"Attorney, this seems to be it."
Kang Minjae, checking the room number from the text message, pointed down one hallway. I followed him quietly.
Jincheol had been moved to a private room. Inside, he was still staring out the window, with his mother by his side.
"Oh, you've arrived."
"Hello."
Jincheol ignored their arrival completely. His mother glanced at him awkwardly for a moment, then gestured for us to step out.
We closed the door to the room and settled into a small break area at the end of the hallway.
"Has Jincheol said anything at all yet?"
"No. He's just full of anger... Even when the homeroom teacher asked if it was true, he wouldn't say a word. When I press him through tears, it only backfires. He says there's nothing a mom can do. I'm really worried something terrible might happen if this goes on..."
I didn't think his silence was a good sign either. No matter how much pride he was clinging to, when cornered, people usually confide in those who can support them. Especially someone like Jincheol, who had plummeted in front of his friends against his will—he should have been even more desperate to unburden himself. The fact that he still said nothing meant he believed even his parents couldn't be his pillar of strength.
"Ma'am."
"Yes."
"When Jincheol has said he was struggling in the past, how did you respond?"
"In the past? Well, about this incident, Jincheol hasn't said a thing..."
"No, before that—any time at all. Has he never once said he was having a hard time?"
His mother pondered my question for a long while. Then, as if something suddenly came to mind, she slowly began to speak.
"Well, a while back, before he transferred schools, he mentioned fighting with a friend. I just said that's how friends are sometimes, not to worry about trivial things..."
"And to focus on your studies."
Kang Minjae cut in. She widened her eyes in surprise at his words but soon bowed her head and nodded faintly.
"...Yes."
"There was also the time he talked about cram school... He said the teacher kept hitting him and he didn't want to go anymore. I told him it was because he kept getting problems wrong..."
Her voice began to tremble more and more.
I nodded slowly. It wasn't as if her reactions were terribly wrong—most parents responded that way. But to Jincheol, it must have felt like his one potential lifeline was turning a blind eye to his pain. Beyond those two incidents she recalled, there were likely many more etched into his heart. Layer upon layer of them had built up until, with this latest event, he'd become convinced that telling his parents would change nothing.
"Attorney. Was it my fault? Did I... did I ruin Jincheol...?"
She asked, her voice breaking with sobs. Kang Minjae handed her a handkerchief and let out a long sigh.
The ideal outcome would be to mend the bond between mother and son and get Jincheol to speak—but that was beyond our power. In this situation, the fastest way forward required his testimony. And to get that, perhaps the best approach was to become a new pillar of support for him. I'd completely abandoned any idea of forcing or coercing a statement out of him. First, we needed to build some kind of bond between us. Who knew—my ability might even pick up something in the process.
"Ma'am, for now, let us talk to Jincheol."
"...Even if Jincheol speaks harshly, please don't take it to heart. He's not like that normally. He's such a good kid..."
"We understand. We know he's agitated because of the situation. Please rest here for a bit."
Kang Minjae and I headed back to the room where Jincheol was alone. His steps seemed unusually slow, so I paused and turned to him.
"Kang."
"Yes."
"You seem lost in thought."
"...No, it's nothing."
He shook his head and hurried toward me with a resolute expression.
"Let me talk to him."
"You?"
"Yeah. You suck at being nice anyway, Attorney. What if you bruise the kid's ego? Heh."
Kang Minjae flashed a grin, but it didn't feel like his usual self.
"Being nice is my specialty. You admitted that yourself."
He wasn't wrong. I'd mostly dealt with adults, and sweet-talking wasn't my forte. I nodded, and he opened the door to the room.
"......"
The humidifier hummed softly in the room, where Jincheol sat alone on the bed, still staring away from us. His limbs were in casts, bandages and gauze covering his abrasions and bruises. Clear droplets fell from the IV needle in his arm: plink, plink.
In this silent room, he was completely ignoring us.
"Jincheol."
Kang approached the bed slowly.
"You've seen us passing by since yesterday—aren't you curious who we are?"
"......"
"Jincheol, we're—"
Jincheol cut him off coldly, without even glancing over.
"You're from Uncle's side, right? Nothing to say. Just go."
His "uncle" had to be that tattooed uncle. If even that guy had gotten nowhere, it made sense he'd distrust anyone from that camp.
"Something like that, but we're lawyers. We'd like to talk for a bit. That okay?"
Kang Minjae asked carefully. Normally he'd be beaming, but his face was unusually serious.
"I said I got nothing to say."
"Jincheol. I get that you don't trust us. Uncle was with you on the way to and from school, but shit still happened... We're really sorry about that."
"If you're sorry, stop hovering in front of me and just leave."
Jincheol turned his back completely and lay down.
"Jincheol."
"Ah, fuck off already! I don't need you! You can't do shit anyway, so why keep dragging this out and pissing me off?"
Jincheol yelled. But Kang Minjae sat calmly in the caregiver's chair, gazing at his back as if unbothered.
"So, you're just gonna let this whole mess slide?"
"Slide my ass—what the hell can anyone do? It's only gotten worse so far."
"After two months in here and you get discharged, you'll have to go back to school. If the same crap happens again... won't that suck for you?"
"Fuck school. I'll drop out. I hate that shithole anyway."
LIE DETECTED
[Lie]
Hologram flickering above his head
I stood at a distance, silently observing the conversation and occasionally activating my ability. Jincheol didn't hate school itself or want to drop out. It wasn't the place he despised—it was the school with Hyeokmin in it. That school.
"Fuck that shitty school—I ain't going, discharged or not. So forget your solutions and bullshit—"
"It's not school you hate. It's going to a school where some kid torments you."
"......"
Jincheol clamped his mouth shut, at a loss for words, and glared at me with all his might. It was the typical reaction of a stubborn kid caught off guard.
Kang Minjae sighed deeply.
"Jincheol. If you tell us what happened and who did it... when you get out and go back to school, everything will be better. I promise."
He pulled the caregiver's chair closer to the bed. But Jincheol didn't respond.
"Running away isn't bad. You could beg your mom and transfer somewhere else. But hearing those bullies who tormented you get away scot-free and thrive? That'll eat at you forever. Sure, start fresh somewhere without them, and time heals wounds eventually. But even if the pain fades, the trauma sticks. It'll follow you your whole life."
Kang Minjae said it like it tormented him. I narrowed my eyes—seeing that expression on him was a first for me too.
"What the hell do you know, pretending like you get it? Just leave me alone, fuck. Stop acting like you know shit when you don't. What do you know! Fuck, what?! Think all adults know everything? That we're gods? Say the word and it's fixed? Mom, Dad, you uncles—why does everyone say talking fixes it! Then fucking fix it already!"
Jincheol started screaming at the top of his lungs. He twisted his body like he was about to yank out the IV needle, groping for the line. But Kang Minjae firmly cupped the spot where it was inserted with his palm and locked eyes with him.
Kang Minjae spoke slowly.
"I ran away once too, just like you. Got beat for no reason, ostracized, mocked—and I couldn't say a word to those bastards. Just fled. That was over ten years ago, and it still haunts me. It torments this uncle even now... That's why I don't want that for you. That's why I want to help."