8) Courage for Me, and Courage for You
The day the school violence committee was scheduled to convene. Before heading to school, Yi-hyeon and Han Jun went to the repair center early in the morning. But contrary to what the technician had said—that it would only take a day—the phone still hadn’t been restored. The thought that they might have to give up the most decisive piece of evidence made Yi-hyeon feel dizzy with dread.
“You said it’d be done by this morning?”
Han Jun checked the watch on his wrist with a flustered expression. There were still thirty minutes left until the call-in time, but since the repair shop wasn’t close to the school, they had to leave now if they wanted to arrive on time.
“There was more data to recover than I expected. I thought one day would be enough.”
“So how much longer is it going to take?”
“An hour at least… maybe up to two.”
“Ha, seriously, this is driving me insane.”
As Han Jun roughly raked a hand through his hair in irritation, Yi-hyeon lightly grabbed his arm and shook it.
“I’ll stay and pick up the phone, so you head out first. Don’t be late for the meeting.”
“You said you’re gonna take Seo Wonseok down with you.”
“Exactly. That’s why you need to get there first and stall for time. What if they cancel because the victim doesn’t show up?”
Persuaded by Yi-hyeon, Han Jun opened his wallet and pressed a fifty-thousand-won bill into Yi-hyeon’s hand.
“Take a taxi when you come.”
“I’ve got money too.”
“I know you do. But this is because of me—you’re the one who might end up late. So take a taxi and get here as fast as you can.”
“What are you talking about? I’m involved in this too. Forget it.”
Yi-hyeon pushed the bill back with a hardened expression.
“Then let’s just wait two hours and go together. Screw the school violence committee and everything else.”
“What are you even saying?”
“You’re one hundred percent not going to take a taxi. So just take it.”
Because of Han Jun’s stubborn insistence, Yi-hyeon had no choice but to accept the bill.
“I’ll tell them there’s evidence coming and stall the meeting as much as I can. Don’t rush and get hurt. Take a taxi and be careful.”
Yi-hyeon nodded, gripping the bill tightly, and Han Jun lightly patted his shoulder before leaving the repair shop.
After hearing the sound of Han Jun departing in a taxi, Yi-hyeon quietly stared down at the bill he’d been given. Then he carefully smoothed out the crumpled parts with his palm, opened his wallet, and tucked it behind the last one-thousand-won bill inside. He sat down in an empty chair, waiting for the recovery with a faintly pleased expression, when the technician’s phone rang.
After briefly glancing at Yi-hyeon, the technician picked up the phone and went into a back room with a side door.
“Yes, yes… Ah… Actually, I opened it yesterday and checked the condition roughly, but since water got in, the internal circuitry burned out…”
So there was another reason they hadn’t met the deadline. Yi-hyeon felt displeased, having assumed the technician had simply bumped them down the queue because they were young.
—We entrusted it to you because we heard you were fast and reliable at data recovery. It seems that reputation may have been exaggerated.
“Hey, come on. There’s no place in the entire Seoul area that recovers data faster than me, you know? Take that thing around—everyone else will wave you off. I’m the only one who’ll even attempt it. Even detectives come to me, saying it’s an important case and asking me to recover the data.”
—How much more time should we give you?
Not wanting to eavesdrop, Yi-hyeon quietly stood up and was about to open the shop door to get some air when he froze. The voice and tone of the person on the other end of the call sounded familiar.
It could’ve been a mistake caused by the call quality—but Yi-hyeon distinctly remembered hearing that voice before, filtered through that same slightly distorted audio. The sharp, metallic timbre paired with a distinctive Gangwon-do accent was unmistakably Chief Kim’s voice—the one he’d heard while the man was on the phone with a certain assemblyman.
Yi-hyeon sat back down and closed his eyes.
“Yes, yes, of course. My motto is speed, accuracy, and strict client confidentiality. But, um… like I mentioned before, since this model is foreign-made, the cost…”
—If the data can be recovered, we’re willing to pay any amount.
“Oh my, yes, yes, thank you very much. I’ll do my absolute best to recover it!”
When the technician ended the call and came back out, his expression was noticeably brighter than when he’d been dealing with Yi-hyeon and Han Jun. Having been cut in line because of money, Yi-hyeon’s mood darkened instead.
***
Meanwhile, Han Jun—who had headed to school earlier—arrived right on time at the designated meeting room. The principal, vice principal, the student guidance teacher, and several members of the parents’ association who had arrived earlier all turned to look at him as he entered. A few parents whispered among themselves.
Once the meeting officially began, the guidance teacher asked Seo Wonseok to explain the situation first.
“There’s not even much to explain. Every time I said anything, that bastard—no, Han Jun—picked a fight with me over every little thing, calling me smelly and humiliating me in front of everyone. He kept at it, so I had stuff piling up too. And then that day—who knows where he heard it—but he found out the parents’ association was handing out food and stuff and deliberately started poking at me, real subtle-like. He did it on purpose. On purpose.”
As he recalled that day, Wonseok grew irritated again and slammed his fist against the desk. His father, seated beside him, jabbed him in the side, and Wonseok leaned back in his chair, roughly raking his bangs back with his hand.
“Fuck… anyway, he provoked me and set things up so I’d be at a disadvantage, then pretended to be the victim. I was the one who got hit first, and I’m the one who fell for his cheap tricks. Even when I told the teacher it was unfair, all I got was that it was my fault—probably because his dad’s a National Assembly member or something. I’m the only one who got punished. You think I wouldn’t be pissed? I was already pissed as hell, and then that bastard, Han Jun, suddenly calls me to a spot with no CCTV, taps my head like this, and starts talking shit about how people without connections always get screwed. He even dragged his dad being a lawmaker into it. You think I wouldn’t snap?”
Wonseok looked around at the committee members and the principal as if seeking their agreement. Han Jun watched him with a look of contempt, snorting softly as he shook his head.
“And then they say I hit him with a baseball bat, which is fucking ridiculous. I had it because I was scheduled to play in the next game. He suddenly snatched it, hit his own head with it, and then collapsed. The CCTV only caught that bastard falling down—it didn’t catch anyone hitting him. That’s the kind of guy he is. Who wouldn’t end up getting screwed by someone that vicious?”
Wonseok cleverly exploited the fact that no one had heard the conversation between him and Han Jun that day, framing Han Jun as the instigator.
Soon, the floor was given to Han Jun.
“He says I picked fights over every little thing, which is honestly absurd. Seo Wonseok regularly bullied a friend of mine who just wanted to attend school quietly.”
At Han Jun’s words, the homeroom teacher who was observing flinched. Han Jun’s gaze briefly swept over the teacher before locking onto Wonseok.
“When did I ever do that? You got proof?”
Wonseok snapped, clenching his fist tightly.
“I’m not finished yet. Listen before you run your mouth.”
“Look at his personality—fucking filthy.”
Wonseok flew into a rage, but shut his mouth with an irritated huff when the principal shot him a cold look.
“Every time Seo Wonseok bullied my friend, all I did was tell him to stop. If that counts as ‘picking fights over every little thing,’ then I suppose he’s not entirely wrong. And he keeps saying I hit him first—but is he talking about that day in art class? If it’s that day, he took Yoon Yi-hyeon’s artwork and tried to pass it off as his own, so I said something. Then he started insulting my parents. Who just sits there when someone insults their parents?”
“That bastard keeps lying, saying there’s no evidence!”
Wonseok jumped up from his seat and shouted, and the principal motioned sharply up and down with his hand.
“Sit down. If you have something to say, wait until you’re given the floor.”
Grinding his teeth, Wonseok dropped back into his chair.
“That day too, Seo Wonseok was planning to bully my friend again, and I caught him. During the sports festival, I wasn’t feeling well, so I went to the classroom to get my bag and leave early. That’s when I heard Seo Wonseok telling a kid—Min Haejun, or Kim Haejun, something like that—that he was going to get revenge on my friend. Since I was part of the conversation too, I didn’t think I was just some third party, so I recorded it.”
Han Jun cast Wonseok a cold, sideways glance.
“I was planning to report that Seo Wonseok was regularly bullying Yoon Yi-hyeon to our homeroom teacher and the school violence committee. But after finding out I’d recorded him, Seo Wonseok chased after me, saying he had something to say. Then I was suddenly struck hard in the back of the head and collapsed.”
As Han Jun finished speaking, the meeting room once again filled with murmurs and whispered conversations.
