The principal's office.
"Why is there no input from the rugby team's coach?"
"Well… It's his first year, so it seems he hasn't had enough time to fully grasp the duties."
"All he needed to do was write a single sentence saying whether the rugby team has enough members or not."
"Y-Yes, you're right."
At the head teacher's response, the principal narrowed his eyes. The head teacher, sensing the need to quickly change the atmosphere, hurriedly continued speaking.
"If you look at the back page, the details of the disciplinary process are recorded."
The principal carefully reviewed the contents of the documents. After meticulously reading through the last page, the principal finally raised his head.
"Second-year students are to complete 30 hours of community service, and first-year Jack Grylls is to be suspended for one year. Is that correct?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"But isn't a one-year suspension too severe?"
"As you can see from the details, there's no sign of remorse. He even mentioned that if faced with the same situation, he would act the same way…"
"He should act the same way."
"…Excuse me?"
"He stepped in to save his friend. Are you suggesting he should've turned his back on him?"
"But violence can never be justified under any circumstances…"
"Wasn't it violence when the senior called the junior out?"
"That may be true, but the level of violence was excessive. Four people were hospitalized."
"So, what you're saying, head teacher, is that even when it's seven against one, he should've fought with consideration for the other party's situation?"
"I-It wasn't exactly a lynching. The second-year students were overpowered…"
"Are you suggesting we should treat the attackers as victims just because they were countered?"
"They're not attackers. They were simply encouraging him to join the rugby team…"
"Who barges into a room as if they're about to break down the door to suggest someone join a club?"
"…"
"Redo the documents."
"Which part needs to be redone…?"
"The victim here is Jack Grylls."
The head teacher, momentarily doubting his own ears, wondered if he had misheard.
"A perfectly fine student was brought before the disciplinary committee right after enrolling. On top of that, he's now being pointed at for having knocked down his seniors."
"…"
"I'll ask you just one thing."
"Please, go ahead."
"Are you absolutely sure that something similar wouldn't have happened if the senior hadn't called him out?"
"…What?"
"Do you truly believe that if his friend hadn't been called out, Jack Grylls would've still assaulted the seniors at some point?"
"T-That's…"
"The reason I consider Jack Grylls a victim lies exactly in that."
With nothing left to say, the head teacher quietly bowed his head and hurried out of the principal's office.
***
At the same time, in Park Ji-hoon's room, Peter was fuming.
He was muttering about how the second-year student council president was the son of a famous law firm's attorney, making it impossible for any appeal to work.
"Hmm."
I could sense that things weren't going well either. However, I chose not to overreact. From what I know, the greats throughout history always maintained their composure in times of crisis.
"..."
I didn't expect Jack's father to get involved. After all, he's the leader of the ruling party's parliamentary delegation.
"He holds an important position, but he's someone far from privileges or special favors. Would a person like that wield political power for his son?
'That's unimaginable.'
Knowing that, the opposing law firm must have been bold enough to take such aggressive action. In the end, this means I have to take the lead in solving this matter.
'The period for filing an objection is one month.'
Plus, I can buy about two weeks by delaying with the excuse of hiring a lawyer.
That's enough time… I could bring in more than a truckload of top-tier lawyers.
'I'm always ready for a fight.'
However, unfortunately, the courtroom showdown never took place. This was because of a completely unexpected disciplinary decision.
***
In the second-year student council room, Carl Bernstein quietly clenched his fist as he reviewed the disciplinary committee's verdict.
The perpetrators were all second-year students. Their punishment: 50 hours of community service each.
The victim was Jack Grylls. His punishment? Surprisingly, only five hours of special education related to violence.
Up until now, he had never lost a case, even with a law firm involved.
Trembling, Carl bit his lower lip and asked the lawyer,
"How did this happen?"
"Originally, the disciplinary committee had decided that Jack Grylls would be suspended, but the result was overturned by the principal's discretion."
"Is there any way to reverse it?"
"You could file an administrative lawsuit, but…"
"…?"
"If you do that, there's a risk the case could become public. At that point, it's more likely to turn into a battle of public opinion rather than a matter of truth."
"Are you telling me to just let this go?"
The lawyer fell silent. The fact that they had managed to scrape together all the necessary evidence to get this far was already a near-miraculous feat.
"…"
In situations like this, all one could do was lower their head like a criminal.
"My pride has taken a hit."
"I'm sorry…"
"Don't just say that. Do you have anything?"
"Excuse me?"
"You're always prepared for anything, aren't you?"
By that, he meant if there was something prepared in case they lost. The lawyer gave a sheepish smile.
"So you do have something?"
"Well… you know Peter, right? The one who was in the first-year dorm room with them."
"And?"
"While investigating that student, I found some interesting information."
"Interesting information?"
"He changed his name to Peter last year. I was curious why, and it turns out he's actually quite famous. In fact, almost everyone from our generation knows who he is."
With that, the lawyer pulled a document envelope from his bag.
"It's a video of him from an old TV show."
Carl Bernstein stared silently at the beige envelope.
Peter Windt. He had been warned not to get involved, yet he still went ahead and testified in favor of the first-year, didn't he?
"If he went as far as changing his name, he must have a past he wants to hide."
"That's likely the case."
What if that past he had desperately tried to conceal were to be revealed to the world?
For the first time, a smirk slowly spread across Carl's face, which had been clouded with frustration.
***
The next morning at dawn. As usual, I was running across the school grounds with Jack.
Interestingly enough, there was someone else with us today.
"So… exhausted." Panting.
"Go on without me…"
It was Peter.
I had invited him, and he reluctantly agreed to join us.
Cough. Cough.
His face was filled with regret.
"I must be crazy…"
"Why?"
"Shouldn't have followed the monsters out here…"
"Everyone feels like that at first."
"…"
"If you keep running, you'll get better."
Peter looked like he wanted to collapse right then and there, but he kept trudging along.
"Even if I want to go back to the dorm… damn it, we've come too far."
"Heh heh heh."
And so, the running resumed. Unable to contain his energy, Jack dashed far ahead.
Thud, thud, thud.
I kept pace with Peter, running just slightly faster than walking. Of course, even that pace eventually turned into walking.
"Do you… do this every day?"
I nodded.
"Why do you run, though?"
That's a good question. Why do I run?
My answer was surprisingly simple.
"When I run, I can focus solely on my breathing."
"…?"
"Then, I don't think about anything else."
"Does it clear your head?"
"Something like that."
"Do memories you want to forget disappear too?"
"Hmm… yeah, I think so."
"Really?"
"You'll understand if you keep running."
"No, I didn't mean it like that…"
We started running again at that moment.
Panting.
Run.
Exhale, inhale.
Walk.
Gasp!
Run.
"…"
Walk.
After repeating this process several times, the sky began to brighten.
"Feeling refreshed?"
"Refreshed? I'm about to pass out…"
I smirked.
"Let's go get some breakfast."
Peter, Jack, and I headed to the student cafeteria together. I wanted to go to a French restaurant, but…
'Peter seems a bit uncomfortable.'
You know the feeling. If I buy him something now, Peter will feel like he has to repay me at some point, but since money is tight, even the idea of "someday" becomes a burden.
'I know that feeling well.'
We entered the student cafeteria. The facilities were excellent—spacious, hygienic, and well-organized. It was self-service, and the menu was impressive too.
Thanks to that, Jack and Peter loaded up with two kinds of soup and three sandwiches each.
It made sense for Jack, being a big eater, but Peter? That was surprising.
Noticing my look, Peter chuckled awkwardly.
"Running… running made me hungry. Haha."
He laughed sheepishly.
I only grabbed orange juice, bacon, and scrambled eggs. Honestly, what I really craved this morning was coffee.
We sat in a good spot, and without anyone needing to say anything, we began eating. There were plenty of other students around us as well, but…
"…"
No one was talking.
They were probably all raised with strict table manners from a young age. Because of that, the sound of the TV seemed unusually loud.
Just like last time, the news was on. It seemed they played the news every morning.
About ten minutes passed like that.
I had finished my meal long ago and was now waiting for Jack and Peter. They still had quite a bit left, probably starving, heh.
It was then, without much thought, that I turned my head toward the TV. Shouldn't the sports news be on by now?
But then—
'Huh?'
The TV started buzzing with static, and suddenly the screen turned gray. I was about to look away, thinking it was broken, when—
"We have a child prodigy with us today!"
A loud voice boomed from the TV, which had seemed to have lost its signal. The picture quality wasn't great, as if an old video tape had been played.
'Looks like the thing is completely busted now.'
I couldn't help but think that they should've just used a Hyungang product!
Right after that silly thought crossed my mind—
"He's only five years old and already solving calculus? Let's welcome the genius boy, Harry Vint!"
A little boy in a cute suit appeared in the studio, accompanied by cheerful music. Without anyone telling him to, the boy hurried over to the blackboard, grabbed a piece of chalk, and started solving math problems like someone possessed.
After a moment, the host continued explaining.
"This problem was created by a professor from Oxford's Department of Mathematics, and even undergraduates find it difficult. But Harry seems to be solving it effortlessly, doesn't he?"
The little boy was indeed filling the board with complex equations.
Soon, the host handed the mic over to a renowned scholar.
"He's undoubtedly a genius. At this rate, he could finish his basic and secondary education within two years and enter college by the age of eight without any trouble."
"Is that for real?"
"Absolutely. If things go well, we might even see a ten-year-old PhD!"
As the hosts made a fuss, the little boy continued tackling one problem after another.
But then, something unexpected happened. The table in front of me started shaking violently.
Confused, I turned my head.
There was Peter, pale as a ghost, staring blankly at the TV, trembling.