GBH 35

The sedan stopped at a red light. The young driver who had come to pick up Choi Se-kyung at 11 PM tapped the steering wheel in tune with the latest pop song playing on the radio. At least the previous driver had been quiet, but this new one didn’t even have the basic courtesy to ask if he could turn on the radio. His attitude subtly revealed that he looked down on Se-kyung, who was younger than him.

Choi Se-kyung rolled his eyes and stared at the driver’s elbow sticking out from the driver’s seat. What would happen if he pulled the arm holding the steering wheel from here? It would be quiet for a while. The driver would die in a collision with the oncoming truck, and someone else would take the driver’s seat. Se-kyung shifted his gaze further from the driver’s elbow. There, a large truck he had noticed was waiting for the light to change.

However, Se-kyung didn’t actually pull the driver’s elbow. The light changed, and Se-kyung’s vehicle and the large truck from the opposite lane safely passed each other in their respective lanes.

His rough and impulsive thoughts usually ended as just that—thoughts. Choi Se-kyung had never acted on his imagination. It wasn’t because he was afraid of getting caught up in an accident himself. Se-kyung was fully aware of the consequences that would follow such an act. And that it wasn’t right.

He distinguished between imagination and reality. He knew his unusual violent tendencies were a problem, so he obediently suppressed them as his father wished. Even though Choi Myung-hyun didn’t trust his son.

A car in the adjacent lane overtook Se-kyung’s sedan. Though its dark tinted windows obscured the interior, Song Yi-heon, whom Se-kyung had parted ways with at the study hall, was inside. Since they were heading to the same neighborhood, Se-kyung’s sedan followed Yi-heon’s vehicle. The driver whistled at the luxury car brand emblem on the rear bumper of the car in front.

“Wow, that guy’s family must be loaded. His name was Song Yi-heon, right?”

The young driver showed interest in Yi-heon. Se-kyung felt a discomfort different from having to endure the noise. However, having grown up suppressed, Se-kyung hid his emotions, especially negative ones, behind a smile.

Seeing Se-kyung’s gentle smile as a sign of permission, the driver began asking personal questions about Song Yi-heon.

“He’s cute. He must be popular with the girls, right?”

“Yes, he’s very popular.”

After the incident where class funds went missing, compared to Hong Jae-min who had tried to hit a female student, Song Yi-heon’s already friendly relationships with the girls had grown even closer. The overall opinion of Song Yi-heon had also rapidly become more favorable.

“But guys like that are usually more popular with boys.”

Choi Se-kyung gazed at the rearview mirror with an ambiguous smile. The driver, distracted by checking the road for a right turn, kept chattering.

“Good-looking and easy-going personality. When I was in school, there was a guy like that who was popular with everyone. He got along well with both boys and girls, but of course, being a boy, he hung out more with the other guys. But he had this peculiar look, kind of delicate, you know…”

“Yi-heon is pretty. Like a girl.”

Se-kyung finished the driver’s thought, agreeing with him. The driver, who had been watching his words in front of his employer’s son, brightened up.

“Right? Man, I was surprised when I first saw him. He’s a high school student, but he’s got this allure… I mean, anyway, that guy I knew in school, I heard he got a lot of confessions from boys when he graduated.”

Se-kyung’s eyes curved gently. It was a beautiful eye-smile, no less lovely than the crescent moon in the night sky. But behind the smile, violent tendencies were stirred.

Ah, he should have pulled the arm holding the steering wheel after all.

---

As Se-kyung was about to get out of the garage, he suddenly leaned back into the car as if he had just remembered something.

“Drive safely.”

“Yes. You get some rest too, Se-kyung.”

Leaving an unusually kind farewell, Se-kyung climbed the stairs. Below, the sound of another engine starting indicated the driver was leaving for the day. Soon, the garage fell into surprising silence as the engine noise faded. Se-kyung’s dark pupils dilated in the quiet. His heartbeat grew louder as if some part of his reason had snapped.

Would a driver hired to chauffeur the employer’s son have any reason to be interested in the employer’s son’s friend?

The young driver, with a background in security, wasn’t hired solely for driving. That driver was employed by Choi Myung-hyun to prevent Se-kyung from misbehaving. He was given the title of driver because it was a suitable role for monitoring Se-kyung, but in reality, he was more zealous about surveillance than driving.

Choi Se-kyung had noticed all of this the moment he realized the driver had changed, and he had remained silent.

Choi Myung-hyun’s surveillance and oppression were familiar. Knowing that resistance would only intensify the oppression, Se-kyung had complied, partly hoping for Myung-hyun’s approval. There were days when he childishly hoped that if he became a son to be proud of, the oppression might be lifted.

But he had given up after realizing that no matter how hard he tried, a person’s true nature doesn’t change.

What Choi Myung-hyun wanted was genuine goodness and integrity, but for Choi Se-kyung, born inherently violent, this was impossible.

Entering the living room, Se-kyung didn’t go upstairs. He sought out Myung-hyun’s study.

He didn’t try to mask his presence. He didn’t check if Myung-hyun had returned home or was in the bedroom. It didn’t matter. To find evidence that Myung-hyun had interfered with Song Yi-heon, he didn’t need Myung-hyun himself.

Choi Se-kyung could tolerate being oppressed himself. He could grovel like an idiot as much as his father wanted. He could give up everything. Be good and quiet without greed.

But he couldn’t tolerate anyone messing with Song Yi-heon, or whoever that mysterious boy pretending to be Yi-heon was.

Unable to wait for the study light to come on, Se-kyung rummaged through the documents piled on the desk. Thick files of papers toppled over. A4 sheets were densely printed with black text of similar legal cases.

Finding no trace of personal investigations, Se-kyung searched around. Discovering a box of files under the desk, he emptied it onto the tabletop. After thoroughly checking the scattered documents, which turned out to be just court records, Se-kyung pulled out the desk drawers and upended their contents. Miscellaneous items like diaries and fountain pens spilled out. Kneeling to pull out the bottom drawer, Se-kyung gasped in shock.

Photos of Song Yi-heon tumbled out. All showed him with short hair, suggesting they were taken this year. Many frames captured multiple people, but the focus was always on Yi-heon.

Gathering and flipping through the photos, Se-kyung paused at one. It showed Yi-heon smiling brightly, seemingly in good spirits after playing basketball, with sweat droplets glistening in the sunlight. Unable to tear his eyes away from the clear face, Se-kyung finally folded the photo carefully to avoid creasing the face and tucked it into his chest pocket.

As he continued looking through the remaining photos, Se-kyung realized something.

The backgrounds and uniforms in the photos were from the beginning of the school term.

Myung-hyun had been monitoring Song Yi-heon since the start of the term. Even though Yi-heon was just an ordinary student at that time.

Se-kyung felt a chill. There was no reason for Yi-heon to be under Myung-hyun’s surveillance from the beginning of the term. Simultaneously, he was disgusted by Myung-hyun’s persistent monitoring.

Calmly, Se-kyung cleared away the photos and pulled out the file underneath. As expected, the untitled file contained a background check on Song Yi-heon. He placed the file on his thigh and began to read.

Basic personal information, family background, notable details… There was far more information than Kim Deuk-pal knew about Yi-heon.

Yi-heon’s biological father, who reportedly appeared in a wheelchair on the news, was a man Se-kyung recognized. This man, tiger-like in vigor despite his white hair, was someone Se-kyung had occasionally greeted at social gatherings with his parents. There was also information about the man’s legal wife. The man and his wife had three daughters. The construction company had barely avoided bankruptcy thanks to the wife’s family connections, but their relationship had soured afterward, around the time he took a mistress.

Turning the page, Se-kyung saw a familiar woman’s photo. Mistress Song Min-seo. Her son with the chairman, Song Yi-heon.

While the three daughters born to the legal wife were capable of inheriting the company, the wife, worried about potential gender discrimination from the old-fashioned board of directors, had turned a blind eye to Song Min-seo in exchange for keeping Yi-heon’s existence a secret.

As Se-kyung was opening his bag to take the file, realizing he couldn’t read all the background check documents there:

“Choi Se-kyung.”

Choi Myung-hyun, who had just returned from work with his briefcase, was guarding the study entrance. Se-kyung calmly met his father’s gaze, which looked down on his kneeling son rummaging through drawers with contempt. As always, he was an inadequate son in his father’s eyes.

“I didn’t know. That you would illegally investigate others, Father.”

Se-kyung stood up and tossed the thick bundle of documents onto the desk. Photos related to Song Yi-heon peeked out from the scattered papers. Choi Se-kyung sneered.

“Impressive. You even knew about Song Yi-heon being bullied at school. Something the teachers were all hushing up. Did you find out that Song Yi-heon likes me?”

A crease appeared between Myung-hyun’s brows. It was clear this was news to him. Having escaped his father’s surveillance, Se-kyung felt the thrill of kicking over a beaker filled to the brim with water. He had been on edge trying to keep the water from spilling, but by knocking over the beaker entirely, he no longer needed to worry. It was liberating.

This sense of liberation led to an impulse to shatter the relationship with his father that he had carefully maintained. Se-kyung unleashed his suppressed nature. He was sick of smiling like a clown. His face, now revealing his true nature, was as expressionless as a mineral.

“I could tolerate it.”

Choi Myung-hyun lifted his chin as if daring him to continue.

“However you treated me, whatever you thought of me, I endured it because I know I’m not normal.”

Kim Deuk-pal was the only one who saw Choi Se-kyung as an ordinary teenager. At home, Se-kyung was expected to behave quietly and properly, under constant surveillance. Though the monitoring was done secretly, the sensitive Se-kyung couldn’t help but notice.

On the surface, they were a close-knit family with mutual respect. But behind the scenes, parents who didn’t trust their son and kept him under surveillance. Se-kyung was confused about which image was real, and eventually turned the blame on himself.

They must be watching me because I’m strange. Because I’ve done something wrong.

“Just focus on me. Leave Song Yi-heon alone.”

As his emotions intensified, Se-kyung’s pupils dilated. If Choi Se-kyung was the problem, then suppressing him alone should be enough. There was no reason for Song Yi-heon to be caught in this suffocating surveillance net.

No. He didn’t want that boy pretending to be Song Yi-heon to fall into trouble because of Myung-hyun’s surveillance.

He already talked about leaving; Se-kyung feared he might disappear without a trace if he got into trouble.

However, Se-kyung’s desperation had no effect on Myung-hyun.

The very person who had ordered the background check and surveillance maintained an attitude of non-involvement. Faced with this demeanor, as if observing an animal in a zoo, Se-kyung felt something snap in his mind.

He wanted to break Myung-hyun’s expressionless facade. He wanted to make him drop the detached attitude of knowing everything. Se-kyung brought up the taboo incident from when he was six years old.

“Are you worried I’ll kill again?”

At age six. A girl who had been leaning on the second-floor railing with Se-kyung fell down the stairs and died. Myung-hyun believed that Se-kyung had pushed the child. At least, that’s what Se-kyung thought. Otherwise, it made no sense to keep his son under lifelong surveillance.

The upright prosecutor Choi Myung-hyun was obsessively monitoring his son to prevent him from becoming a serial killer.

“I didn’t kill her! I didn’t push her!” Se-kyung shouted.

“Even the investigation concluded I didn’t do it!”

At that moment, Myung-hyun approached rapidly with wide strides. His calm demeanor was shattered by Se-kyung’s mention of the incident. He grabbed Se-kyung by both shoulders.

“Don’t you dare speak of this anywhere.”

The veins on his hands bulged as he gripped his son. Choi Se-kyung tried to shake off the hands. He was no longer six years old, and he had the physical strength to easily break free from the man’s oppressive grip. However, Myung-hyun’s words left Se-kyung frozen.

“Haven’t you considered that I might have intervened?”

“…!”

Se-kyung believed he hadn’t killed the girl. But Myung-hyun was saying he had interfered with the investigation and concealed the truth.

“Don’t ever mention this to anyone. Ever.”

Myung-hyun pulled his shocked son close, almost nose to nose. Choi Se-kyung’s eyes were inherited from Myung-hyun. Their dilated black pupils were identical. Se-kyung was trapped in those emotionless black eyes.

“Don’t even think about it. Erase it from your memory.”

Choi Myung-hyun, who had maintained his composure in the face of any criticism or insult, became agitated just by Se-kyung mentionIng the incident from when he was six years old.