🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 12
“Your Honor, I request to submit new evidence and to recall Jeong Jin-woo as a witness.”
The courtroom stirred at the public defender’s words.
“Counsel, what evidence? All items were already submitted,” the judge said, frowning as he checked the files.
“It’s the phone that recorded the entire incident,” the defender replied.
The children in the witness stand tensed, uneasy.
“Evidence not agreed upon with the prosecution cannot be accepted,” the prosecutor said, frustrated.
“Your Honor, this is crucial evidence. Please allow it,” the defender raised his voice.
The judge hesitated, then nodded:
“Allowed. Where is the evidence?”
“I’ll bring it immediately.”
The defender strode toward the witness stand with confidence, making the kids gulp and exchange nervous glances.
“Witness, please hand me your phone.”
Dong-gun sat there, stunned.
“My phone? Why…?”
Something suddenly clicked in his mind, and he froze. The defender noticed immediately.
“Witness, hand over the phone now.”
All eyes turned to Dong-gun. His face reddened, eyes darting, lips nervously biting.
“Witness, cooperate with the court,” the judge pressed.
Dong-gun looked at Jin-woo, who silently shook his head—signal given.
“I… didn’t bring it today,” Jin-woo said firmly.
Dong-gun swallowed and said tremblingly:
“Did you really not bring the phone?”
“Yes… I really didn’t—”
“That’s a lie. I saw you using it during the recess,” someone shouted from the audience.
“I… I did bring it, but I don’t know where it is right now…”
The kids in the stand hung their heads, realizing they were doomed.
“Witness, even with someone seeing you use the phone, are you still lying? Give it now.”
Dong-gun, panicked, hesitated, then slowly reached into his pocket, eyes brimming with tears.
“Hand it over now,” the defender said firmly.
Suddenly, Dong-gun twisted his body, frantically pressing buttons on the phone, trying to format it.
“Give it here!”
The defender lunged instinctively. Dong-gun resisted, shouting. Other kids jumped in to help him.
They knew it was useless—formatting wouldn’t erase the evidence—but survival was all that mattered right now. The future? Irrelevant. His parents and lawyers would handle that later.
Shouts filled the courtroom:
“What are you doing!”
“Take it away!”
“Erase it now!”
“Sergeant! Help!”
Chaos reigned, yet Jin-woo remained calm, staring coldly at Dong-gyu.
[“You’re… dead.”]
He silently mimed strangling himself with his hand. Dong-gyu met his gaze, despairing, feeling hope vanish. The truth felt powerless against this force.
Then, in the scuffle, the phone flew through the air and landed in front of Dong-gyu.
“Grab it!”
Time seemed to freeze. Every eye locked on him.
“Dong-gyu, take it!”
Chaer-in, in the audience, yelled sharply. Clarity returned to Dong-gyu’s blurred vision. Across the room, Jin-woo’s stern eyes met his. The trembling in his hands steadied.
Shortly after, the kids slumped to the floor. Dong-gyu held the phone. The outcome now rested in his hands.
The courtroom settled.
“Your Honor, I submit this phone as Exhibit 4.”
After many twists, the crucial evidence finally reached the judge.
“The entire phone?”
“No. The videos inside are the evidence. Please allow us to view them now.”
The children lowered their heads in shock.
“Allowed,” the judge said.
Soon, the truth of the incident began to unfold on the courtroom projector.
“Your Honor, this is the truth of the case.”
Gasps echoed across the room as the videos ended.
“As you can see, my client is innocent. He cannot escape criticism for not acting, but who could speak the truth under such persistent violence?”
Dong-gyu broke down in tears. Years of suppressed pain and frustration erupted. The courtroom fell silent, moved by his sorrow.
“Defendant, calm down. The final judgment will be delivered in three days, considering all circumstances and evidence.”
Chief Choi and In-hye stood.
“Let’s go. Jung-sensei, the hospital will take him down.”
“I have other business. Chaer-in, see you at the hospital. Thank you for today,” In-hye said, leaving in a hurry.
Chaer-in stayed, watching Dong-gyu quietly cry. Her comfort was simply sharing this space with him, silently.
“Yes…” Chief Choi said softly, glancing between Chaer-in and Dong-gyu, hoping the pain would end here.
Later, in the police station, Sung-jin noticed Joo-chul entering.
“Detective Kim, long time. You didn’t come to work?”
“It’s my day off. Did that case get solved?”
“Which case?”
“The school incident—the kid who fell.”
“Oh, that one.”
“Was that kid really the culprit? Any new evidence?”
“Didn’t you see the news? The real culprit was different.”
“Really? Not one of the kids there?”
Joo-chul relaxed, confident.
“The witnesses were the actual culprits. They framed the bullied kid. How did I know he wasn’t the culprit?”
“His height didn’t match,” Joo-chul said casually.
“Height?”
“Yes. Too short to have pushed the kid over the railing.”
Sung-jin blinked, surprised.
Joo-chul smiled and sifted through newspapers.
“Anyway, next time, if you know something, tell me right away.”
“How did you uncover the real culprit?”
“Chief Choi finds the evidence. Boom. Incredible.”
Sung-jin tapped his knee, impressed.
“Does he meet someone often?”
“Who?”
“Detective Kim, you coming for lunch?”
“Yeah, let’s eat,” Sung-jin said.
Joo-chul smiled, picking up a spoon.
“Nothing tastes better than gukbap at the station,” he said happily, finishing the bowl.
Sung-jin flipped channels, paused at the news:
“Kim Seung-beom, best-selling author and speaker, was in a traffic accident this morning. His fiancée was with him. Both are in critical condition.”
“Kim Seung-beom? The author?” Sung-jin asked.
“Seems like it,” Joo-chul shrugged.
“I bought his book recently. Pretty good,” Sung-jin mumbled, handing the book to Joo-chul.
“I think he had a similar accident not long ago,” Joo-chul added.
The two continued casually as the newsroom broadcasted updates.
