Chapter 72
At the trembling voice of the student, I halted in my tracks. Kang Minjae, who had been about to open the classroom door ahead of me, whipped around in surprise.
The student in the middle of the room had his hand raised awkwardly, staring at us with wide, quivering eyes.
"Park Jincheol's fall... that was Lee Hyeokmin's fault."
He squeezed his eyes shut and shouted. The classroom fell deathly silent—no one's breath could even be heard.
I turned back toward the teacher's desk and looked at him.
"That day... Lee Hyeokmin tied Park Jincheol's indoor shoes to a stick... and hung them outside the window, telling him to go get them!"
I already knew the details from Jincheol's own statement, but this moment held real significance. A dam breaks not just from some massive natural disaster, but from a tiny hole punched through by chance. A drop or two seeps out, widening the breach. The hole grows, the trickle swells into a torrent. Eventually, the dam can't hold, and it crumbles.
Right now, I was witnessing that first hole forming.
"I saw it too."
At that, a bushy-haired kid in thick-rimmed glasses spoke up quietly.
"Everyone here saw it."
Murmurs rippled through the other students at the bushy-haired kid's words. I couldn't catch every whispered exchange, but they were probably debating whether to speak up now. If not now, it might be too late. With a whistleblower already out and the tide turning, better to side with them quick.
I wanted to trust in the students' consciences, but people—young or old—instinctively protect their own innocence. Even with Lee Hyeokmin expelled, his shadow still loomed large enough to terrify some. But if they didn't choose wisely now, they'd spend their remaining year here as accomplices to the bully—cowardly scum.
That anxiety would pry their lips open in this jungle of a school.
"It was because of Lee Hyeokmin. He said he'd... kill us. Threatened he could make anyone want to die."
"I was in his class freshman year. He got some kid who wouldn't fetch his shoes transferred out, and even the teachers took his side... I was scared it'd happen to me too, so I had no choice..."
The students started spilling one after another. I could piece together what kind of monster Lee Hyeokmin had been—how he'd terrorized them. No matter his crimes, the school's protection, his wealthy family, his height, and athletic prowess had given him more than enough sway over these kids.
I glanced at the teacher standing frozen like a corpse. She hovered by the TV stand, staring out the window, desperately ignoring the children's cries.
From the standpoint of pure justice, it wasn't just the principal who needed to leave this school. Every teacher who'd abetted the corruption, every one who'd looked the other way for Lee Hyeokmin because his dad was the superintendent and the principal's buddy—they all deserved punishment.
But realistically, they were no different from these students. Teachers by profession, sure, but first and foremost, employees scraping by at a private school like Jangmyeong High School. In a public school, they could just transfer out in five years and call it done. Here, to stretch their legs comfortably until retirement, they had to play along with the boss.
I understood... but I didn't like their kind. No, I hated them.
"Lee Hyeokmin's a piece of trash. We spent all this time tiptoeing around that bastard—it was hell. And now look, it's all coming out. Good riddance."
"Yeah. Real son of a bitch. Watching him torment Park Jincheol, I kept thinking, is that even human?"
Amid the noisy confessions, snippets of chatter from students near the desk bounced my way. I looked at them. Just ordinary high schoolers, nothing more.
Even while cursing Lee Hyeokmin now, they'd bowed to him when he ruled the roost. They'd strived not to get on his bad side, and when their homeroom teacher urged them to write "the truth" anonymously, they'd submitted the agreed-upon lies.
Over two months had passed since then, and not one had thought to rat it out as false.
"......"
I gazed at Jincheol's seat. He sat with his head bowed, sobbing quietly. His muffled cries were drowned out by the classroom chaos cursing Lee Hyeokmin.
"Kang."
"Yes, sir."
"Check if any students can testify in court, and get statements from the whole class. I'm heading out."
"Got it. I'll wrap things up here."
I left the classroom. As I passed through the school gates, it felt like I could finally breathe.
My mind buzzed with memories from my past life—every desperate struggle. Witnesses had all clammed up out of fear of the powerful. For them, it was unavoidable: to survive as cogs in Wooshin Group, to keep subcontracts flowing, to maintain good ties, silence was the play.
The one who stepped up with the truth? He followed Wooshin's script, gave false testimony, and tanked the trial. Years passed, but no one else spoke up.
I understood it all. Still, I couldn't help raging at them. They were citizens of this country too—people with the right to a just world.
To build that world, a few vanished, died, or ended up broken. Yet we pressed on, realizing justice for the silenced.
Maybe those people had once been like Class 5's second-years—kids with a past they could reclaim.
Their faces from that classroom kept circling in my head.
"Sir, I'm back."
Kang Minjae returned to the office that evening. He'd checked for court witnesses as instructed, gathered statements, and lost track of time. Luckily, the school had plenty of empty classrooms post-graduation ceremony, so he'd worked there and wrapped up most of it.
He'd even cherry-picked kids who could detail that day and Lee Hyeokmin's past misdeeds, bought them burgers, and recorded their accounts.
"I'll compile and upload the files once sorted. Lots of material, kinda messy."
I nodded, eyes fixed on the news I'd been watching since before he arrived. The exam scandal uproar from two weeks ago had died down. A brief report mentioned the superintendent, principal, and Kim Hakseong facing a three-way meeting over the leak.
"Sir. I'm starving—what's for dinner? That sundubu place last time was good. Wanna go there?"
"Sure."
"Or the new sundae gukbap spot. How 'bout that?"
"Sure."
"Ah! Wait, no—we said we'd hit that Chinese place. I gave the owner's daughter some divorce advice, and she said they'd hook us up with gongbao chicken and such as thanks. Let's go. Grab a baijiu shot too?"
"Sure."
Truth was, dinner options meant nothing to me. I could've skipped it entirely. No hunger—just this gnawing disillusionment since leaving school.
All because those classroom scenes dredged up the human parade from my cutthroat past life.
Saving Jincheol had brought witnesses at last, and I'd felt real joy. But their words kept dragging me back.
People are like that, so why risk my neck building a just society for them? I'd asked myself that plenty in my old life.
What ultimately drove me was rage at Wooshin Group for killing my father. But now, with this second chance—Dad still alive—did I really need to dive back in?
I had enough cash for a prime apartment investment. Couldn't I just coast through this life comfortably?
"Sir. What's up?"
"What."
"All 'sure, sure, sure.' None of the menus appeal?"
"Not that."
"Then what? We nailed justice today—why the gloom?"
"Justice nailed?"
"Yeah. Sure, maybe when Lee Hyeokmin got expelled, the principal and his dad and Kim Hakseong all got hauled in—that might've been justice. Anyway, the kids spoke up and apologized."
I eyed Kang Minjae.
"Apologized?"
"Ah, you left before. They were trash-talking Lee Hyeokmin, then it quieted down. Someone spotted Jincheol crying."
"And?"
"Everyone went solemn. They all went to him, said sorry—some even teared up."
"Jincheol?"
"At first he didn't wanna hear it, but he accepted in the end. Face beet red, eyes misty, grinning ear to ear. Felt so proud. Wish you'd seen it."
Kang Minjae beamed, chattering away, looking genuinely pleased.
"Honestly, I hated those kids at first for lying in the anonymous survey. But everyone's gotta protect themselves, right? They ignored Jincheol just to survive there. Even today—if they'd stayed quiet after their lies, they'd feel guilty but avoid being labeled liars or cowards scared of Lee Hyeokmin."
"But?"
"But with him gone, no one ordered them—they apologized, cried together. Makes you think... maybe people aren't rotten at heart."
"Maybe they're just flipping sides now that he's out. Didn't you hear? Everyone saw it. Staying silent now would brand them as the sneaky liars. Sudden innate goodness theory?"
"Nah, not that... You're seeing it too cynically, sir. They were genuinely sorry to Jincheol. Just too scared of Lee Hyeokmin to pick a side before. Now the tables turned, they got a shot to voice their real feelings. Watching that, I thought—we need someone who can create those chances. Not just for kids, but everyone."
Kang Minjae sighed and continued.
"Per you, only those two spoke truth back then. If pure malice, they'd frame them as liars to dodge their own. But nah."
"And who creates that situation?"
"Who else? You and me, sir. Justice enforcers. Heh heh heh. Apostles of righteousness. Like Power Rangers. You be Red, I'll do Blue. Red Rangers lead."
His goofing drew an involuntary chuckle from me.
What if I hadn't died in my past life? If I'd foreseen Hwang Youngchan's betrayal and countered first? Been more cautious against Wooshin's claws? Made it to trial?
If I'd taken down Wooshin like Lee Hyeokmin, would I have seen the scene Kang Minjae did?
"Still sour-faced. Seriously, you missed that moment."
If I'd seen it, would I be grinning like him? Hard to say. But one thing was clear: without it, I never would.
"Guess I've been liking this easy life too much."
I looked at Kang as I said it.
"Huh? Easy? Cases fry my brain, no sleep—I'm dying here."
When I first returned to this life, seeing Go Sangjun's Angel's House donation report and my parents ignited that instinctive vow of revenge on Wooshin.
But nearly a year drifted by, focused elsewhere, and I'd found joys amid easy wins—cases a breeze for my past-life self.
Maybe in that classroom, watching kids expose Lee Hyeokmin one by one, I should've felt triumph—not this doubt.
My old self would've savored that justice vista after slaying the giant evil.
Maybe some hidden instinct for comfort clashing with that easy life bred this cynicism.
"Let's hit the new sundae gukbap place."
"Aw, why? Gongbao and baijiu await!"
"Not feeling it. Sundae gukbap."
"Man, you're annoying. You know that?"
"Nope."
Kang Minjae gawked at me like I'd lost it. I grabbed my bag instead of answering.
Slipping on my coat, I said,
"Which way's the sundae gukbap? Drive?"
"...If we're clocking out, yeah, take the car."
I tossed him the keys from the table.
"Pull it around then. Cold out—I'll head out after."
"...Your attitude, ugh."
He snatched the keys mid-air and grumbled out the door.
I stared at the spot he'd vacated.
He's surprisingly useful, that one.