In the dimly lit living room, with only the dining table light on, Shin Haesu sat across from Kyungjun’s father.

“It’s all my fault. Raising him without a mother… justifying it by saying ‘I trust my son’ and failing to pay attention… It’s my fault.”

Kyungjun’s father was deeply blaming himself, but there was no way to comfort him. When school bullying escalates to suicide, the child asks for help from their parents at least three times. Whether the parents notice depends on the bond they share.

“…He used to have such a bright personality, but now that I think about it, he started changing drastically after entering middle school. He became timid, slouched his shoulders…”

“Now that I think about it” meant that he had seen it before but had never truly reflected on it. Indifference had led to this.

Haesu placed Kyungjun’s broken phone on the dining table. It had been restored through forensic recovery.

“This is a group chat Kyungjun was in with his ‘friends’—no, his tormentors.”

When they initially checked his phone, there was no group chat. The bullies had kicked him out and deleted the chat to erase the evidence.

Baek King: Kyungjun, crawl over here.

Baek King: Get 80 by tomorrow, Kyungjun.

Baek King: Crawl over here, Kyungjun.

Sungshik: Look at this shit, fucking disgusting.

Sungshik: [Video]

Jungseon: Hahahahaha

The video showed them forcing Kyungjun to eat grasshoppers, worms, and frogs. Kyungjun couldn't hold it in and vomited, and the surrounding students looked at him in disgust.

The main bullies then started kicking him mercilessly.

“Hey, hey, don’t hit his face, stick to the stomach and thighs, dumbass. This isn’t your first time.”

“Oh, my bad.”

There were dozens of videos—forcing him to eat inedible things, beatings, endless torment. As Kyungjun’s father watched, his face twisted more and more.

“In movies, they pull out fingernails for torture, right? Do you think that really hurts like hell?”

“I don’t know, probably?”

“Should we test it, Kyungjun?”

“W-what? I… Ahh!!”

The screen filled with Kyungjun clutching his bleeding fingers in agony.

“Uh, uhgh…”

Kyungjun’s father covered his mouth with his hands, unable to contain his emotions.

“I got hurt playing basketball with my friends…”

That weak voice from before echoed in his ears. He should have noticed. He regretted it to the point of madness.

Clutching the phone with both hands, Kyungjun’s father buried his face into the table and sobbed.

“…There’s more than enough evidence. These bastards will pay for their crimes—no, more than pay.”

Kyungjun’s father trembled violently but said nothing.

Whoooosh—

Heavy rain poured down at night. In front of an old red-brick apartment complex, a middle-aged man in a black raincoat stood still, letting the rain soak him.

His eyes were empty, unfocused. Like those of a dead man.

Thud—

A tall male student in a school uniform brushed past him.

“Tsk, fucking hell…”

The student glared at him, cursed under his breath, and shook off his umbrella before stepping inside.

Swoosh—

The middle-aged man’s unfocused eyes finally moved. He watched the boy’s back for a moment before slowly following.

Step, step, step.

The student, Baek Jungpil, lived on the fourth and topmost floor. But as he climbed the stairs, he noticed footsteps behind him. Turning around, he saw the man in the raincoat following him.

“Hey, old man, what’s your deal?”

The man stood still for a long moment before finally raising his head to meet Jungpil’s gaze.

“Apologize.”

“What?” Jungpil scoffed. “Are you serious? You’re the one blocking the way.”

“Apologize… to Kyungjun.”

“Wha… what?”

Jungpil stepped down one stair to get a closer look at the man’s face. He recognized him from the police station—Kyungjun’s father.

A smirk crept across Jungpil’s lips.

“Ha, and what if I don’t? What are you gonna do, huh? How the fuck did you even find my house?”

“…You need to die.”

“What?”

Shhk—

Kyungjun’s father pulled a knife from his coat and stabbed Jungpil in the stomach.

“Uh… uh…?”

Feeling a sharp pain, Jungpil looked down at his belly. His eyes widened as he saw the blade buried deep inside.

“Fuck… fuck—”

Shhk, shhk, shhk!

“Die, die, die!!”

Overcome with rage, Kyungjun’s father stabbed Jungpil repeatedly.

Jungpil twisted his body, trying to push the knife away.

“Ah, fuck, fuck—”

Thud! Crash!

Trying to flee, Jungpil lost strength and tumbled down the stairs.

Despite his own hand being slashed open, Kyungjun’s father ignored it and descended the stairs, his murderous gaze locked onto Jungpil.

Step, step, step.

“P-please, mister, spare me, I-I was wrong—”

Jungpil tried to shove his intestines back in, his bloodied hands clasped in prayer. But there was no mercy in the father's eyes.

“P-please… save me…”

Driven by survival instincts, Jungpil dragged himself down the stairs.

But he didn’t make it far before the father caught up to him.

“…I’ll follow you to hell.”

“You—”

Shhk!

The blade pierced Jungpil’s throat. His tongue lolled out as he convulsed before going limp.

“Ha… ha…”

Kyungjun’s father collapsed onto Jungpil’s corpse. His vacant eyes filled with tears. His trembling hand turned the knife toward himself.

“Kyungjun… I’m sorry.”

Shhk—!

With all his strength, he drove the blade through his own neck.

He had expected it to hurt terribly, but it didn’t. It only felt like something had entered, as if he had been numbed.

What was strange was that he could still see. That, too, soon faded. The darkness slowly consumed everything.

“…Sir, sir! Kyungjun’s father!”

A voice that should never be heard right now echoes, and he falls into a pitch-black world.

...

- Thud.

“Ah, shit…”

The tall male student, Baek Jung-pil, glares at him and curses before stepping into the building.

Kyung-jun's father widens his eyes as if they might pop out and touches his own neck. There is no blood on his hands. The heavy knife in his pocket remains undeniably real, and the back he sees before him is definitely Baek Jung-pil.

His shock lasts only a moment before his gaze turns cold. He steps into the building. Just as he is about to climb the stairs—

Thud.

A powerful grip seizes his arm, causing him to furrow his brows and turn around.

“Sir.”

The detective handling Kyung-jun’s case, Detective Shin Haesu, stands before him. Kyung-jun's father's pupils shake wildly as if an earthquake has struck.

What if he searches me? What if he asks how I found Baek Jung-pil’s house? I have to kill Baek Jung-pil.

Then, as if overlooking all of that, the detective speaks with an indescribable look in his eyes.

“Sir, Kyung-jun has woken up.”

“…What?”

“You need to be by Kyung-jun’s side.”

Thud.

Kyung-jun's father drops to his knees on the spot.

If Kyung-jun has woken up, he must be there. Yet, while Kyung-jun hadn't given up, he himself had tried to abandon life.

He raises his trembling hands and looks at them. There is no blood. It all felt so vivid, but he doesn’t understand what happened. However, he is simply relieved that this moment is real.

He grabs Haesu’s pant leg and bows his head.

“Detective, I’m sorry. Detective, thank you…”

Water, whether rain or tears, drips onto the floor.

Daeseong Hospital.

Forgetting even about the knife in his pocket, Kyung-jun’s father rushes toward the hospital room.

“Kyung-jun! Kyung-jun!”

“D… Dad…”

He rushes toward his son, spreading his hands, but then stops himself and instead grasps Kyung-jun’s hand tightly.

“Kyung-jun, my son, my boy… Dad is sorry, I’m so sorry. I have committed an unforgivable sin, I…”

Lying still, Kyung-jun barely turns his head to look at his father. He furrows his brows, struggling to move his other hand, and places it over his father’s.

“I’m sorry… Dad.”

“No, no, my son did nothing wrong. Nothing at all. This is all because of your useless father.”

Kyung-jun's father's shoulders do not stop trembling. Lying on the bed, Kyung-jun also sheds tears.

As the emotional reunion unfolds, Haesu’s dry voice cuts between them.

“There’s a lot to do now. Kyung-jun, do you remember what I told you?”

Kyung-jun gives a slight nod.

“Good. From now on, we’re going to break them down step by step, but I need your help. It’ll be hard, but we need to make them suffer more. Tell me in detail—who, where, and what kind of bullying you endured.”

Kyung-jun looks at his father, who nods in encouragement, then shifts his gaze back to Haesu.

“It was at the entrance ceremony in my first year of middle school…”

For over a year, Kyung-jun had endured relentless torment. As he calmly recounts his experiences, his father feels as if his world is crumbling.

For hours, they listen to everything, cross-checking with videos and messages. Finally, Haesu stands up and speaks.

“Now we wait.”

“…Wait? Wait for what?”

“For a punishment even greater.”

Yongsu Middle School, Class 2-3.

It has been a month since Lee Kyung-jun’s suicide attempt. Yet, there has been no investigation. The police haven’t even shown their faces, and Baek Jung-pil, who had been lying low, has now become even bolder, causing even more trouble.

“Giddy-up! Giddy-up! Why are you so slow? Is it because you’re a fat pig?”

Baek Jung-pil sits atop an overweight student, slapping his backside. Other students laugh awkwardly, while the bullied boy squeals each time he is hit.

Suddenly, Jung-pil scowls and kicks the boy off.

Thud!

“Oink!”

“Ugh, this is boring as hell. That bastard Lee Kyung-jun was fun to bully. He had that little defiant look in his eyes. Isn’t there someone like that…? Dongsik, my cigarette.”

“Yes, sir!”

One of his lackeys hands him a cigarette. Jung-pil places it in his mouth and leans against the window.

Just then, the classroom door slams open.

BAM!

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…”

Shin Haesu enters, singing with a birthday cake in hand, candles lit. His voice is monotone, his expression dry.

Jung-pil hurriedly tosses his cigarette out the window and scowls at Haesu.

Haesu walks straight up to Jung-pil, locking eyes with him, and stops right in front of him.

“Fucking Baek Jung-pil, happy birthday.”

He extends the cake towards Jung-pil, signaling for him to blow out the candles.

“What the hell? Who the fuck are you?”

Haesu furrows his brows, then blows out the candles himself.

“Happy birthday, youth.”

Thud!

Haesu slams the cake into Baek Jung-pil’s face.

“What the fuck, you son of a bitch!!”

Jung-pil wipes the cake off his face and swings his fist at Haesu.

Thwack!

His punch lands squarely on Haesu’s face.