The director's office of the Equivalence Authority.
Kang Junhyuk had called for Taekyung.
The director's office was at the end of the sixth floor. The Han River was visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Kang Junhyuk sat behind his desk, wearing glasses as he read through some documents. When Taekyung entered, he took them off.
"Sit."
Taekyung sat down.
Kang Junhyuk pushed the documents toward him. They were copies of reports from recent cases Taekyung had assessed. Dating violence. Workplace harassment. Stalking.
"The standards for assessing equivalent mental harm. You created them, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"You did good work."
Taekyung said nothing.
Kang Junhyuk leaned back in his chair. Forty-seven years old. Strands of gray ran through his hair. His face was a scholar's face. Not sharp. Not intimidating. Calm. Anyone who didn't know this man had designed the Equivalent Retribution Act would have taken him for a university professor. And they would have been right. He had been a professor once. Criminal law. Seoul National University School of Law. Forty-seven papers. Twelve of them had been on retributive justice theory.
"Taekyung."
"Yes."
"The standards you created are becoming case law. You know that, right?"
"I do."
"Equivalent assessment of mental harm. This was the area I thought about the longest when I designed the law. Physical harm shows up on a CT scan. If a bone is broken, it's broken. But mental harm can't be seen. Some people argue it can be measured. Others argue it can't."
Taekyung listened.
"I like the answer you came up with. 'Not the replication of pain, but the equivalent of the life destroyed by pain.' It's almost identical to a line I wrote in a paper ten years ago."
Taekyung looked at Kang Junhyuk.
"I referenced your paper, Director."
Kang Junhyuk smiled. It was a gentle smile.
"I know. That's why I like it even more."
As he organized the papers, Kang Junhyuk said,
"I have one favor to ask."
"Go ahead."
"There's a National Assembly Judiciary Committee hearing next week. A report on the first year of the Equivalent Retribution Act. I'm appearing, and there will be questions about the standards for assessing mental harm. I'd like you to sit in with me."
Taekyung nodded.
"Understood."
Kang Junhyuk stood and looked out the window. The sun was setting over the Han River.
"Taekyung. Do you think this law is perfect?"
Taekyung was silent for one second.
"It isn't perfect."
"What part isn't?"
"The equivalent of mental harm is an approximation. It's not an exact equivalent."
Kang Junhyuk nodded.
"That's right. An approximation. But even an approximation is different from having nothing at all."
Taekyung didn't answer.
Turning around, Kang Junhyuk said,
"Even an imperfect law is better than no law at all. That's my conviction. What's yours?"
Taekyung looked at Kang Junhyuk.
"If the numbers are accurate, the law works."
Kang Junhyuk smiled.
"Right. That's your answer."
Taekyung left the director's office.
He ran into Hyunwoo in the hallway.
"Did the director call for you?"
"He asked me to sit in on the hearing."
Hyunwoo nodded. Without slowing his stride, he said,
"Park Jongsu's second-stage enforcement is complete."
Taekyung stopped.
"The result?"
"Cervical spine damage. Reduced sensation in both arms. Confirmed equivalent to Ms. Lee Soonok's condition."
Hyunwoo's voice was as usual. The tone of someone making a report.
"Park Jongsu said something during enforcement."
"What?"
"'Please, just kill me.'"
Taekyung looked at Hyunwoo. Hyunwoo's expression hadn't changed. But the ends of his leather gloves were faintly damp. He had washed his hands after enforcement and put the gloves back on. The insides hadn't dried yet.
"I know."
Hyunwoo walked on. Taekyung watched his back. Black suit. Leather gloves. His back was straight. He looked unshaken.
Taekyung knew that Hyunwoo visited Suhyun every week. On good days, Suhyun would say, "Oppa, you're here?" On bad days, she couldn't recognize anyone.
What had Hyunwoo thought when Park Jongsu said, "Kill me"? Had Suhyun's offender said the same thing? No. Suhyun's offender had received a slap-on-the-wrist sentence under the old law and been released. He hadn't even had the chance to say it.
Taekyung didn't ask.
On his way back to the office, he passed the Enforcement Division. The door was open. Water was running inside. Hyunwoo was washing his hands. Again. The Hyunwoo who had just walked away was standing in front of the sink once more. Once hadn't been enough.
Taekyung walked past without stopping.
Taekyung knew that Hyunwoo was spending longer and longer washing his hands. At first, it had been one minute. Now it was more than five. Hyunwoo might not have been aware of it. Or he might have been.
Taekyung didn't ask. Hyunwoo didn't say anything either. They both knew about each other's cracks, but they also knew that if they put them into words, they wouldn't be able to do their jobs anymore.
That evening.
Taekyung was in the office compiling statistics for the first year of the Equivalent Retribution Act.
Total assessments: 847. Physical-harm equivalent enforcements completed: 612. Mental-harm equivalent enforcements in progress: 23. Enforcements on hold or undergoing reassessment: 41.
Taekyung stared at the last number. Seventeen cases. Cases where harm existed but couldn't be assessed as an equivalent. The victims in those seventeen cases had been left without the law's protection even though the law existed. Pain left outside the law.
One of them came to mind. Case No. 2024-EQ-0089. Online defamation. The victim's photograph had been digitally manipulated and circulated. The victim lost her job, moved, and changed her name. But there was no way to return "the same harm" to the offender. Manipulating and circulating the offender's photograph would create a new crime, not equivalent retribution.
Another. Case No. 2024-EQ-0134. Child neglect. The parents had abandoned their child for five years. The child suffered developmental delays, malnutrition, and a lack of social skills. But could "five years of neglect" be returned to the parents? Neglecting an adult for five years wasn't the same harm as neglecting a child for five years. To a child, five years was an entire lifetime of growth.
Seventeen cases. What did that number mean? There were harms that even the Equivalent Retribution Act couldn't return. Pain left outside the law.
He looked out the window. The lights of Yeouido. Beneath those lights were 847 victims. Six hundred twelve had received something back. Twenty-three were still waiting for it. Forty-one were waiting. Seventeen couldn't receive anything back.
And the people who still hadn't reported their cases. The people who never appeared in the numbers.
Taekyung pressed beneath his right eye.
His phone rang. It was Jungyeong.
"Assessor, a new case just came in."
"What is it?"
Jungyeong's voice was different from usual. The softness was gone.
"A drunk-driving case involving a chaebol heir's grandson. The victim is a pianist."
Taekyung's hand stopped.
"What are the injuries?"
"A twenty percent reduction in movement in the pinky of her right hand. For an ordinary person, it's a minor disability."
Jungyeong paused briefly.
"But for a pianist..."
Taekyung didn't put down the phone.
"Send me the file."
"Already sent it."
Taekyung opened the email.
Case No. 2024-EQ-0267.
Victim: Park Soyeon, female, twenty-nine. Pianist.
Offender: Jin Hyunseong, male, twenty-seven. Grandson of the chairman of Jinseong Group.
Taekyung turned to the first page.
This case would be different from everything that had come before. Taekyung knew it.
End of Episode 10.