You Have Been Defended - Chapter 74
The case proceeded at breakneck speed. The superintendent, principal, and Kim Hakseong's gang, now public enemies, were all handed prison sentences. National interest was sky-high, amplified by a current affairs program that dissected the incident just a week prior, fueling even fiercer public outrage.
Of course, they gnashed their teeth and vowed to appeal, but with the evidence ironclad, it was nothing more than a waste of time.
Lee Hyeokmin, meanwhile, faced expulsion alongside a trial for his history of school violence. His accomplices wouldn't escape either—they'd stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him in court.
Juvenile courts don't involve prosecutors or defense attorneys. Since Lee Hyeokmin was a minor, his case would be classified as juvenile, with a lawyer attending as a "supporter" during the hearing. The judge fills the prosecutor's role. Instead of "punishment," they use "disposition," ranging from Type 1 to Type 10.
What we wanted was a Type 10 disposition. What Lee Hyeokmin was aiming for was Type 7 or lower—anything short of juvenile detention.
I'd heard his father had handed the case to Jangyoung Law Firm, a powerhouse rivaling Taegwang Law Firm. They'd pull every possible string to mitigate his sentence in court.
In juvenile cases, the key is projecting deep remorse. Volunteering at orphanages, facilities for the disabled or elderly, making donations—judges weigh that heavily, so even if it's not genuine, they'll do it.
But before all that, the first step is set in stone: settling with the victim.
"Lee Hyeokmin's side asked if they could meet Jincheol today."
"Today, right now?"
"They said any time works—they'll match whatever Jincheol wants. Probably gunning for a settlement."
"Yeah. At least trying to snag a no-prosecution request."
The moment I mentioned "no-prosecution request," Kang Minjae snorted derisively.
"I've heard that phrase over a hundred times in my life, but it's never made me laugh like this. What a load of bullshit."
"Did the lawyer call?"
"Nah, sounds like Lee Hyeokmin himself phoned."
Calling personally sells the remorse better than having a lawyer do it.
I nodded slowly, and Kang Minjae huffed, brandishing his phone.
"So, what should I tell 'em? They're all in—whatever the lawyer says. No meet if you say no, meet if you say yes."
"Jincheol's feelings come first."
"I told 'em that, but they keep insisting they'll follow the lawyer's lead."
"Gotta talk to Jincheol first. Give him a call."
"On it."
Time had passed since the incident; the long winter break was ending, and high school senior year loomed. We'd pushed to wrap everything before school started, to avoid disrupting Jincheol's final year. The civil suit against Lee Hyeokmin was already underway, trial set in a month.
I'd mostly dealt with his mother unless necessary, but this required hearing from Jincheol directly.
"Hello?"
"Jincheol, it's your lawyer uncle. You doing okay?"
"Oh, Lawyer Cha Juhan, right? Yeah."
"I've been good."
"How's your body feeling?"
"That was ages ago. All healed now."
"Good. Just a month till you're a senior cramming for college—how's that feel?"
"Eh, whatever. It's weird. Anyway, this is about Lee Hyeokmin, right?"
"Yeah."
"I've been wondering what to do."
"What do you think?"
Silence stretched after my question.
"If we meet, I have to settle, right?"
"Not at all."
"Really?"
"Meet if you want, skip if you don't. Settlement's separate."
"Got it... If we meet, will you and the lawyers be there too?"
"If you want."
"...Then yeah, let's meet."
"When works best? We gotta sync schedules."
"Sooner the better. Today even."
I hung up and checked with Kang Minjae.
"Hanjun meeting's tomorrow. Today works."
"Tell Jincheol evening, and ping Lee Hyeokmin."
"Gotcha."
The more Lee Hyeokmin play-acted remorse, the less we sat idle. Even in high-profile cases, judges sometimes leaned toward protective dispositions for minors.
Especially since the juvenile ruling would feed into the civil case—we couldn't let it slide.
"Lee Hyeokmin's side must be shitting bricks with Hanjun's case merged in."
Even if the judge was soft on juveniles, we had counters. As soon as Lee Hyeokmin news hit, I contacted Hwangbo Hanjun’s mother—the fiercest voice demanding his punishment. Merging Hanjun's case felt right.
She provided evidence gathered for the violence committee. For mid-trial merger, Hanjun needed charging during proceedings, but public opinion backed us.
Jincheol's interview was fresh; a news outlet had interviewed Jangmyeong High School students about Lee Hyeokmin. They revealed similar incidents last year too. Viewers raged at more victims, demanding punishment.
As expected, Hanjun's case got charged mid-trial and merged.
"Hanjun's mom seems hesitant—time's helped him heal, and civil suit would be rough."
"True. Even non-public trial means testifying, dragging up trauma he's burying."
"But their punishment intent's firm. No civil push, but they helped with the merger—good enough."
"Yeah. Since they called Jincheol, bet they'll hit Hanjun too."
Hanjoon's family lacked civil zeal but wouldn't settle. They craved Lee Hyeokmin's reckoning most.
"Call her. Same as with Jincheol: meet if you want, but with us."
* * *
By the time we reached Jincheol's home, Lee Hyeokmin hadn't arrived. His father had rushed back after the call. The family sat tensely on the living room sofa.
"Said 6 p.m., so ten minutes left."
Kang Minjae broke the heavy air. Parents nodded gravely; Jincheol stared at the clock.
At exactly 6, the doorbell rang. Mom hurried to the intercom. The screen showed Lee Hyeokmin and his crew, faces etched with contrived guilt.
Jangyoung must've prepped them—posture, expressions for facing Jincheol.
The door opened; they shuffled in, carrying a fancy box of pricey hotel pastries.
Jincheol's parents chuckled in disbelief; Jincheol's face stayed blank.
"Come in."
Mom's voice was curt as they hovered awkwardly at the entrance. They bowed deeply to her and entered.
"Uh, this... I know pastries won't fix things with you and your parents... Just a small gesture..."
Lee Hyeokmin set the box on the coffee table.
"I hate bread."
"...Oh, right?"
Jincheol's cold rebuff left him fumbling to pick it up.
"What'd you wanna talk about?"
"...Just to say I'm sorry."
Lee Hyeokmin mumbled, eyes downcast, words slurred unlike his usual crisp confidence. He looked ready to cry at a nudge.
"Sorry? Didn't you come to my hospital room, say in front of me, Mom, and the lawyers you wanted to play together, and lie about not pranking?"
"...Back then, I was so immature. Jincheol, I never thought you'd fall from that window. It was just a prank... I didn't know it'd end like that. I'm really sorry. If I'd known, I never would've done it."
"Oh yeah? What about beating me? Wasn't just once or twice. Thanks to you, I had bruises every damn day."
Jincheol's composure cracked, face flushing.
"I'm truly sorry for that... I don't even know why I did it. After this, I realized how childish I've been. Hitting you like that—I'm so sorry... Shouldn't have, I must've been crazy..."
Lee Hyeokmin clasped his hands, voice cracking.
"Jincheol, really... I swear I'll never again. I'll atone to you my whole life. So... forgive me just once. Sob, Jincheol..."
He collapsed to the floor, bawling. If Jang Taesik were here, he might've praised it as Cannes-worthy.
"Sob sob, really... I won't ever... Not doing this for acquittal. I'll get punished anyway... But... I'm so sorry, thinking my childish days were hell for you... It kills me with guilt... So... if you forgive me, maybe it'll ease... Sob sob."
"Oh? So I can accept your apology but refuse settlement?"
"..."
Lee Hyeokmin clamped shut at Jincheol's mocking tone. Over-immersed in the lawyer-scripted act?
"...Jincheol, that's—"
"No it's not."
"..."
"Here for settlement, right?"
"..."
"Then fuck off, you piece of shit. Get the hell out of our house with that bread scrap."