To put it simply, here’s what Bae Jung-yoon said:
He and Go Hoon had both witnessed Park Ki-cheol sexually assaulting Kim Yeo-jin. If Kim Yeo-jin decided to report the incident to the police, they would have no choice but to testify about what they saw.
He also added that he knew about Ki-cheol’s attempt to physically harm Go Hoon. If Hoon ever chose to report that as well, Jung-yoon said he’d testify to that, too.
“The injury on your head, Sunbae, happened when you collapsed from being drunk. I was trying to help you up and accidentally bumped your head into the wall. I felt awful about it, so I told your mom I’d cover all the hospital bills.”
There was a disarming integrity in his voice. His explanation was smooth, his tone steady and composed—so calm, in fact, that it made everything he said sound that much more believable.
The more Park Ki-cheol replayed Jung-yoon’s words in his head, the more his legs began to shake. This was insane. Was he really about to be reported? If everything Jung-yoon said was true, then what the hell was he supposed to do now?
Just as panic scrambled his thoughts, Jung-yoon delivered the final blow.
“Sunbae, if Yeo-jin or Hoon reports you… you could end up with a criminal record.”
It was like Jung-yoon had grabbed hold of Ki-cheol’s reason by the hair and yanked, shaking it violently. He gave him no room to think, no time to look away. And it worked—perfectly.
“Hey! Bae Jung-yoon! W-What the hell are you saying?! That I assaulted Yeo-jin…?!”
Ki-cheol’s voice shot up in a panic, but he quickly dropped the volume, glancing around to make sure no one was listening.
“…This is what Hoon said, right? He’s the one telling you this, isn’t he? That bastard completely misunderstood! I—I didn’t do anything like that! I’m not some scumbag, okay?! I’m not!”
He tried to defend himself, but the voice on the other end didn’t budge.
“Isn’t it true, though? That you forced a kiss on Yeo-jin?”
“We both wanted it! Everything between me and Yeo-jin was mutual! I’m telling you—I didn’t force anything!”
“That’s not what Yeo-jin says. She said she made it very clear she didn’t want it. But you kissed her anyway. And she remembers exactly what you did, and where you touched her.”
“What the hell are you talking about… CCTV! Check the CCTV! Isn’t there one in that area?!”
“Mm, apparently not. That spot’s pretty remote. No cameras there.”
“No way…! Everywhere has CCTV these days!”
“Not really something you should be arguing with me about.”
Jung-yoon’s tone had started to sound almost uninterested now.
Park Ki-cheol felt completely lost. No CCTV meant there was no physical evidence to support Yeo-jin’s assault claim—but also no way to prove his own innocence.
Worse yet, there were two people who claimed they saw him do it. No matter how he looked at it, he was completely cornered.
“Jung-yoon… you know this. Yeo-jin and I… we had something going on.”
Still, Ki-cheol didn’t give up. He believed he could at least get Jung-yoon on his side. But after a brief silence, Jung-yoon answered, voice dry and distant.
“…Oh, did you?”
Ki-cheol repeated those words to himself. “Oh, did you?” That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.
And why would he? Just a week ago, he’d asked Jung-yoon for dating advice about Kim Yeo-jin. Had he already forgotten?
Hell, it was Jung-yoon who first brought up her name at the drinking party—or so Ki-cheol remembered. In truth, Jung-yoon had only made a passing comment.
“Do you still keep in touch with Hoon or Yeo-jin, Sunbae?”
Ki-cheol had taken the bait instantly. He ignored Hoon’s name entirely and pounced on Yeo-jin’s.
“Of course. I talk to Yeo-jin one-on-one too.”
Not realizing he was digging his own grave, Ki-cheol started showing off.
“You don’t know this, but I’m actually pretty popular with girls, Jung-yoon.”
After all, it wasn’t every day he got the chance to brag about women in front of someone like Bae Jung-yoon.
“Since we’re on the topic… I’ve kind of got a thing going on with Yeo-jin lately.”
He went on and on, chatting about the pink-tinted vibes between him and Yeo-jin—completely unaware that Jung-yoon had actually met with her just the day before for a counseling session she’d requested.
He even asked Jung-yoon for advice, saying he was sure Yeo-jin liked him back, but things weren’t progressing. He wanted to know how to move things forward.
Jung-yoon, after listening quietly, finally responded. He told him women could be put off by overly aggressive advances. He advised Ki-cheol to stop messaging Yeo-jin for a few days, then try reaching out again when the time felt right.
Would that really work? Ki-cheol had his doubts—but he followed the advice anyway. There was no way his own junior would give him bad advice, and besides, Jung-yoon clearly had more dating experience than he did.
What Ki-cheol failed to realize, however, was that all of Jung-yoon’s advice came from personal experience. Which meant none of it really mattered unless you had his face.
That was the cheat code Ki-cheol never figured out.
Park Ki-cheol had completely mistaken Kim Yeo-jin’s inability to say no as a sign of interest. Convinced it was a green light, he started making aggressive moves on her—never once imagining it would lead to this.
“But Sunbae, sexual assault is still a criminal offense even between married couples. So even if you and Yeo-jin actually had something going on, it might not count for anything.”
Bae Jung-yoon’s indifferent voice pressed in on him, strangely surreal, digging into his eardrums with weightless finality.
A dull ache began to throb in his skull. But the reason Ki-cheol was so rattled wasn’t just Jung-yoon’s calm, suffocating pressure.
There was guilt—something that wouldn’t leave him alone. The more he thought about it, the more fragments of memory surfaced. Had Kim Yeo-jin resisted that night?
“S-Sunbae… please don’t…”
“No… Stop it…!”
Words like those kept surfacing, sticking in his mind like splinters.
Back then, he’d been drinking. He’d brushed it off, thinking she was just playing hard to get. Even when she pushed him away, he’d pressed his lips against hers. When she tried to resist, he forced her back against the wall.
Now that he was replaying it sober, it started to feel like maybe—just maybe—he had really crossed the line.
Cold sweat trickled down his spine as he bit his lip, panic tightening in his chest.
“Far as I know, forced sexual assault carries a pretty hefty sentence. And you didn’t stop there—you threatened Hoon with a soju bottle while he was trying to intervene. That’s attempted aggravated assault. You add that in, and it’s only going to make things worse.”
Bae Jung-yoon listed the offenses one after another—things Ki-cheol could barely remember—with a voice as cold and dry as stone. But his mind was spinning too fast to catch the change in tone.
“…I-I was drunk. I wasn’t in my right mind back then…”
“Don’t think being drunk will save you. That doesn’t lessen the charges. In cases like this, it’s still considered quasi-sexual assault—and that carries the same sentence as regular assault.”
Ki-cheol didn’t know much about the law. So when Jung-yoon cut off every possible exit, he panicked. All he could think about was that phrase: criminal record. The words looped in his mind, blurring his ability to think.
“H-Hey, Jung-yoon… do you… maybe know a lawyer? Or a prosecutor? Anyone like that?”
“Hmm. I do, actually.”
For a brief moment, hope lit up in Ki-cheol’s eyes—only for it to go out just as fast.
“But if I were to introduce someone like that in a situation like this, wouldn’t it make more sense to help Yeo-jin, not you, Sunbae? Just being realistic.”
With those words, Bae Jung-yoon drew a clear, unwavering line. He still spoke gently, but there was no mistaking it—he was done.
“Anyway, I just felt bad seeing things come to this. That’s the only reason I’m giving you a heads-up. Handle this carefully.”
Park Ki-cheol felt his heart crash to the floor.
It was a complete rejection.
Jung-yoon was saying: I’m not going to help you. You’re on your own.
To him, Ki-cheol wasn’t worth the effort. Not someone worth sticking his neck out for. Not even someone worth calling in a favor. That was the message—calm, indirect, but unmistakable.
Only now did Ki-cheol finally understand the real meaning behind Jung-yoon covering the hospital bill.
Maybe that had been the fare for the ferry to hell—a generous tip to send him on his way.
He finally understood, but there was nothing he could say in return.
He was known for having a short fuse, but when it came to Bae Jung-yoon, he couldn’t lash out. He never could. Somewhere along the way, that power had shifted. The person he’d once looked down on had completely taken control.
“Th-Then… what am I supposed to do…?”
Mind blank, Ki-cheol mumbled the question like a fool.
“There’s only one thing you can do.”
The reply came, clear and emotionless.
“Get on your knees and beg. Tell them you were wrong. Say you’re scum, the worst kind of bastard. And plead—beg them not to report you.”
It was the only answer.
Begging was the only way out.
