Yongsu Middle School, Class 2-3

A large adult collapses after being struck by the fist of a large middle school student.

Crash!

Shin Haesu falls sideways, knocking over a chair and desk with a loud clatter.

Baek Jungpil glances at his fist after seeing Haesu go down in a single blow, despite his somewhat intimidating appearance.

‘Damn, my punch is strong as hell.’

Still on the ground, Haesu looks up at the approaching Jungpil and says,

“You just assaulted a police officer.”

“What? A cop?”

At the word "police," Jungpil hesitates and glances around at the other students in the class.

“Screw that, motherfucker!”

Thud!

Jungpil kicks Haesu, causing him to roll backward. Excited, Jungpil follows up by grabbing a desk and slamming it down on Haesu.

Crash!!

Haesu silently endures Jungpil’s attack while crawling toward the classroom door. Jungpil’s lackeys watch him and give him a thumbs-up.

“Damn, Jungpil is a real badass. Even a cop is crawling like a worm.”

“That’s next-level cool, shit. He’s beating the crap out of a cop.”

None of the other students dare to intervene, paralyzed by fear of Jungpil’s savagery.

Snap!

“Come here, you bastard!”

Fueled by the cheers of his lackeys, Jungpil grabs a mop from the corner, snaps it in half, and marches out of the classroom.

Step.

The moment he steps outside, he feels a thick hand grab his neck. The world spins.

Bang!!

Jungpil has no idea what just happened. In an instant, he finds himself lying on the hallway floor, with the same cop he had just been pummeling now standing over him, pressing a foot down on his throat.

“Ugh! Gah!”

He struggles, but the pressure on his throat only intensifies. He can't breathe. His neck feels like it’s about to snap.

The officer glares down at him with an ice-cold expression and speaks.

“Juvenile offender, you’re done for. Wash your neck and wait.”

Haesu lifts his foot off Jungpil and heads toward the broadcasting room. Jungpil knows exactly why he’s going there, but he doesn't dare follow.

Shin Haesu charges Baek Jungpil and two others with aggravated assault and extortion against Lee Kyungjun, adding an additional charge of obstruction of justice.

At Jungpil’s home, his mother stares at the indictment in her hands. When Jungpil walks in, she turns to him.

“Jungpil… What is this about…?”

“What? What is it?!”

Since the day Haesu visited, Jungpil has been on edge. He storms toward his mother, eyes blazing. She flinches and takes a step back.

She had raised him alone while working at a restaurant, but Jungpil had a habit of resorting to violence against her as well.

Snatching the indictment from her hands, Jungpil scans it, his face twisting in fury.

“Shit… It’s all because of that damn detective? Fuck…”

“Jungpil, what have you done?”

“Shut the hell up, bitch!”

Shoving his mother roughly, Jungpil’s eyes gleam with unrestrained violence.

Vrrrroom—

On his way home from work, Shin Haesu parks his motorcycle in the lot and heads toward the building entrance. But before he can reach it, three men emerge from between the parked cars.

They wear hats and masks to hide their faces, clutching metal pipes and baseball bats in their trembling hands.

Two are small, one is large. All are visibly nervous.

Haesu smirks.

“I have no idea who you are, but I’m glad to see you.”

His words make the largest thug snap.

“Kill him!”

One of them swings a bat. Haesu effortlessly twists his body to dodge, grabs the attacker’s thin wrist, and twists it.

“Aaaagh!”

Another thug swings a metal pipe. Haesu shoves the first attacker forward, using him as a human shield.

Thwack!

“Urgh!”

Striking his own friend leaves the attacker visibly shaken.

“J-Jeongseon!”

“You idiot! Don’t say my—”

Snap.

“Gah! Mom! Fuck! It hurts so bad!”

Haesu completely snaps Jeongseon’s arm, tossing him aside. He then grabs the panicking third thug and smashes his face against a concrete pillar.

Thud—

Blood streaks down the pillar as the thug collapses.

“Ugh…”

Only one remains—the large one, built like Baek Jungpil. He, too, is terrified but swings his metal pipe regardless.

“You piece of shit! Die!!”

Whoosh—

But fear makes for blind attacks. Haesu merely shifts his shoulder and dodges. Then, with the tip of his foot, he stomps on the thug’s shin.

“Agh!”

The thug crumples forward. Haesu calmly approaches, grabs his wrist, and bends it.

“Ghhk!”

“You deserve special treatment.”

Crack—!

“Aaaaagh!!”

His elbow bends the wrong way, and a splinter of bone juts through his flesh.

As the thug writhes in agony, Haesu kneels on his back and lifts his other arm.

“No, no, no! Please, please! I was wrong! I was wrong!”

Haesu pauses, leans in, and speaks in a chilling whisper.

“Do you know what I hate the most?”

“P-please spare me—”

“‘Rehabilitation.’”

Snap!

“Aaaaaaaah!!”

For the first time in his life, Baek Jungpil experiences true, unbearable pain. He writhes on the ground, rolling in agony. His hat and mask have fallen off, but he is too consumed by pain to care.

His lackeys tremble in terror, forgetting their own broken limbs.

Beep. Beep. Beep—

Haesu wipes the blood from his face and raises his phone to his ear.

“Yes, I’d like to report three armed robbers. They had weapons. I’ve subdued them.”

Court date.

At the courthouse, Baek Jungpil and his two lackeys, Lee Kyungjun and his father, and Shin Haesu are all present.

Despite the passage of time, Baek Jung-pil still had both arms in casts.

For the victims and perpetrators, it was a life-shattering event, but for the judge, school violence was a common case.

The trial proceeded swiftly.

“Kim Jung-seon and Park Sung-sik are sentenced to Juvenile Protection Disposition No. 7, and the ringleader, Baek Jung-pil, to Disposition No. 8.”

No. 7 meant two years of probation, while No. 8 meant one month in a juvenile detention center.

“W-what?!”

“What the hell is this?!”

The courtroom erupted. Kyung-jun’s father stood frozen in shock, his mouth open but unable to speak. Baek Jung-pil sneered.

“However!”

The judge’s sharp voice silenced the courtroom, drawing all attention.

“Defendant Baek Jung-pil is sentenced to two years in prison for obstruction of justice, stalking, and attempted group assault. Kim Jung-seon and Park Sung-sik, who participated in the group assault, are sentenced to six months in prison.”

“What?”

“What!”

“Huh?!!”

“N-no way…”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The people in the courtroom looked bewildered, struggling to grasp the ruling.

However, Baek Jung-pil, who had previously researched similar cases online, was in complete despair, his mouth agape.

After his release from juvenile detention, he would immediately be transferred to a juvenile prison. The sentence was unusually severe.

The judge, nurtured under a scholarship from Daeseong Group, was proving his loyalty.

“No! No way! You son of a bitch!!!”

Overcome with rage, Baek Jung-pil charged at Haesu instead of Lee Kyung-jun.

Before anyone could intervene, Haesu stepped forward, hooked his leg, grabbed his collar, and slammed him into a chair.

Crash!!

The chair shattered as Jung-pil hit the ground hard, gasping for breath.

Haesu leaned in close and whispered softly, so only he could hear.

“I still have a gift left for you. Look forward to it.”

Jung-pil’s eyes widened in terror. Now, even a single word from Haesu filled him with fear.

A few days later, Shin Haesu sat in someone’s office, facing a middle-aged man.

“Detective Shin, long time no see. You’re still in great shape. No—have you gotten even better?”

“Director, are you still running Room 7 these days?”

The middle-aged man was the director of a juvenile prison. Haesu had met him before when he handled a case involving the director’s son being bullied.

“Room 7? Of course. There’s no shortage of trash. Why, got someone to send in?”

“Yes, he’ll be coming in a month… I’d like you to make those two years feel like twenty.”

“If Detective Shin is personally asking, this must be one hell of a piece of trash. Alright, I’ll give him special treatment. Not just twenty years—two hundred.”

“And just in case…”

“Oh, no need to worry about suicides. The kids there are so used to stopping them, they’re practically experts at it.”

“Good. A prison should be hell… It shouldn’t be a place of comfort.”

With a satisfied smile, Haesu sipped his green tea.

He was called a righteous detective who pursued criminals without caring for wealth or fame.

But truthfully, the moment he felt most fulfilled wasn’t when he received gratitude from victims—it was when he saw criminals properly punished.

Lee Kyung-jun was hospitalized for six months but was discharged without any permanent injuries. He decided to transfer to another school.

His father also switched jobs to a less demanding company and focused on mending their relationship.

Occasionally, he would visit the Violent Crimes Unit at Gangjin Police Station, holding a drink in his hand.

“Detective Shin, that… on rainy days…”

Before he could finish, Haesu interrupted.

“You’ve done well holding on. I support you.”

Kyung-jun’s father’s eyes widened, then he lowered his head with a small smile.

“Yes… Thank you. Thank you.”

At Shin Haesu’s home, he was cooking while Haru furiously tapped on her phone in the corner.

Tap tap tap tap tap

“Ugh, what a troll. What’s their problem?”

Haesu paused, his ladle hovering over the soup. He let out a small sigh as he looked at Haru.

With his job as a detective in the Violent Crimes Unit, he had been too busy to pay attention. As a result, Haru had learned Korean entirely through the internet and was now using strange slang.

He didn’t know what it meant, but it was definitely not normal.

“Haru.”

“Haru is here—ah, yes, yes?”

She instinctively responded, then hurriedly threw her phone aside and stood up with her hands clasped together.

Though she was comfortable at home, she still viewed Haesu as an overwhelmingly authoritative landlord.

“Do you want to attend an academy?”

“Huh? What kind of…”

“A Korean language academy.”

[Friends Korean Language Academy]

Haesu chose the closest one so Haru could walk there.

“Oh, you look Korean, but where did you live before coming here?”

“Ah… Israel.”

“I see…”

Haru could read, listen, write, and speak—but not in proper Korean.

Rather than just learning the language, Haesu wanted her to interact with others in an environment where she could absorb correct Korean naturally.

Before leaving her at the academy, he faced her directly.

“Haru, you can handle this on your own, right?”

She could already sort recycling, play games, and even do grocery shopping alone. It was time to level up.

Step by step, the goal was to help her find a job and eventually become independent.

“Yes, no worries!”

‘I am worried…’

A week after sending Haru to the academy, Haesu was in his office writing up a report on a public disturbance case when a call came from the academy.

He immediately stopped what he was doing and picked up the phone.

“What happened?”

- “Ah, yes, it’s about Haru…”

“I’ll be right there.”

Haesu jumped to his feet and stormed out of the office.