RB - 60

Chapter 60: The Sad Solidarity of Victims

Jung-hyuk reassured Seo-yeon with a cruel smile.

“Don’t worry about me—worry about the nurses. If things go south, I might twist their necks. Pray that I don’t cause trouble before leaving. Take good care of my brother.”

But Seo-yeon noticed how vulnerable he had become. No woman could remain unmoved when a man who always seemed strong began to falter. Her eyes reddened as tears welled up.

“Han Seo-yeon, come here.”

Jung-hyuk kissed her forehead once more and locked eyes with her. Feeling the warmth of his lips, Seo-yeon steadied herself again. She promised herself she would cry later—not now.

Turning to his brother, Shin Joon-hyuk, Jung-hyuk spoke in a tone laced with pity.

“Brother, listen to her and get out of here. Remember the hide-and-seek games we used to play when we were little? Think of this as another round. And… I’m sorry I came late. This time, I’ll definitely save you.”

Their emotional reunion would have to wait. As Seo-yeon pulled Joon-hyuk’s wrist, the sound of multiple footsteps echoed down the hallway.

In the dead of night, in this quiet corridor, there was only one destination for those footsteps—the supply room where Joon-hyuk had been locked. Frustrated, Jung-hyuk cursed under his breath.

“Shin Jin-hyuk, you idiot! What are you doing instead of keeping them busy?”

“What do we do? There’s nowhere to hide here, Jung-hyuk.”

After a split-second decision, Jung-hyuk spoke firmly.

“Listen carefully. I’m going to run to the end of the hallway and cause a commotion. Use that chance to escape with Brother.”

Without waiting for her reply, Jung-hyuk bolted out of the supply room.

“Aaaah!”

A nurse’s scream followed by the rapid patter of footsteps filled the air. Peeking outside, Seo-yeon saw Jung-hyuk leading the nurses away like the Pied Piper, disappearing down the opposite end of the corridor.

“Shin Joon-hyuk, let’s go quickly. We need to run too, okay?”

Joon-hyuk still wore an innocent face but obediently followed Seo-yeon’s instructions. She gripped his hand tightly and ran as fast as she could.

Once they were far enough from the supply room, no one would suspect Joon-hyuk’s identity. To the nurses’ eyes, Joon-hyuk, dressed in a suit, would naturally be mistaken for Jung-hyuk.

As Seo-yeon turned the corner with Joon-hyuk, she collided directly with Jin-hyuk. Upon seeing Jin-hyuk, Joon-hyuk exclaimed, “Younger brother, Jin-hyuk!” and embraced him tightly. Jin-hyuk, pale and unsure what to do, blinked rapidly.

“Let’s... let’s get out of here first, Brother.”

“Huh? Wait a moment, Jin-hyuk.”

Suddenly stopping, Seo-yeon rushed into the empty nurse’s station. Jin-hyuk followed, holding Joon-hyuk’s hand tightly, and asked,

“Manager Han, why are we suddenly…?”

Seo-yeon frantically rummaged through the shelves and replied,

“Don’t just stand there—help me. Let’s take Shin Joon-hyuk’s medical chart.”

No sooner had Seo-yeon finished speaking than Jin-hyuk began scanning dozens of patient charts with his fingers. While Seo-yeon searched the lower shelves, Jin-hyuk tackled the upper ones. Meanwhile, Joon-hyuk sat quietly, behaving like a well-behaved child rather than someone prone to violence.

“Manager Han, I think this is it. All the other charts have patients’ names, but this one is categorized by date of birth—it matches the year Brother was born.”

Pulling out the yellow medical chart, Jin-hyuk grabbed Seo-yeon’s wrist and helped Joon-hyuk, who was crouched on the floor, to his feet.

“Manager Han, you should return to your room quickly. I’ll leave with Brother.”

Seo-yeon read warmth in Jin-hyuk’s brown eyes. Yes, those were the same eyes she’d seen in the boy who cried because he didn’t want to kill the rabbit.

---

Hours later, Jung-hyuk opened his eyes to see the ceiling of the supply room.

His shoulders, arms, and ribs ached from being restrained by male nurses. They had beaten him mercilessly with batons, treating him like livestock.

“Damn bastards.”

Jung-hyuk cursed and struggled, only to realize his limbs were bound.

The supply room resembled a warehouse, its sole piece of furniture a hard mattress fixed to a metal frame. He trembled as he imagined the torment his older brother—and the true eldest son of Taesung Group—had endured for over two decades. Though claiming newfound fraternal affection might be an exaggeration, blood ties were undeniable.

As Jung-hyuk pondered the best timing to escape, a group of nurses in white coats entered the room.

They injected something into his neck while he pretended to be half-dazed as Joon-hyuk. Their rough handling felt no different from vaccinating cattle. Gritting his teeth, Jung-hyuk sank into darkness, his vision fading like falling into a deep swamp. Just before losing consciousness, he thought about how escaping wouldn’t be easy—but once free, he’d make sure to destroy Professor Sung and his accomplices.

Had he ever been restrained like this? Had he ever experienced such physical confinement? The horror of having his body bound defied description. Though Jung-hyuk endured barely half a day tied up, the thought that his brother had lived this way for over twenty years made him nauseous.

Through the haze, he heard a nurse’s irritated voice.

“Shin Joon-hyuk, what’s your name?”

The sharpness of Jung-hyuk’s mind dulled under the sedatives, making it impossible to gauge time or space. A wave of lethargy overwhelmed him.

Only after reducing a healthy adult male to a near-corpse did the nurses untie his limbs.

“Shin Joon-hyuk, I asked you your name!”

This absurd question revealed how much they underestimated Joon-hyuk’s cognitive abilities. With a vacant gaze, Jung-hyuk obediently replied,

“...Shin Joon-hyuk.”

Dinner consisted of bibimbap—a mix of rice, meat, and vegetables. Breakfast and lunch the next day were identical, prompting Jung-hyuk to smirk bitterly. Each meal came with a threat: “If you leave any food behind, we’ll tie you to the bed and hook you up to an IV.” For two more days, Jung-hyuk remained in a state akin to livestock, allowed only to breathe. Meanwhile, Seo-yeon proceeded with her discharge as planned.

---

“I have to do something. Heaven helps those who help themselves.”

The first thing Seo-yeon did after being discharged was search for victims of Professor Sung. Jung-hyuk would remain tied up, pretending to be Joon-hyuk for a few more days, while Jin-hyuk and Attorney Shin Seung-min traced Sung’s accounts. Ethan was digging into Park Yeo-wan’s background, so Seo-yeon resolved to contribute in her own way.

“Ah, so that’s how it is. You despicable bastard—you’ve been caught red-handed.”

After endless searching, Seo-yeon stumbled upon a minority opinion online. Though heavily criticized by Professor Sung’s supporters, the post opened her eyes.

Titled Exposing the True Nature of S Professor, Renowned in Child Psychology, the article was damning. It revealed that S Professor’s treatment methods, costing hundreds of thousands per session and millions for full courses, amounted to nothing more than gaslighting parents and children.

It felt like finding an oasis in a desert.

Hypnotized, Seo-yeon right-clicked the author’s username and sent a message.

—Hello. I read your post about Professor Sung Ho-yeon. I suspect several people around me have been victims of his gaslighting for over a decade. Would you be willing to meet? We’re gathering evidence but struggling. Please help us.

Fortunately, the recipient eagerly agreed to meet, and Seo-yeon promptly arranged the appointment.

The evening meeting took place at a Chinese restaurant inside a hotel near JB Company. As an employee opened the door, icy air conditioning greeted Seo-yeon like Siberia.

Already tense, the freezing temperature made her skin crawl. She wasn’t pleased.

The staff guided her past the central hall to a private room.

“Welcome. I’ve been wanting to meet you, Han... Seo-yeon.”

Sliding open the door, a woman seated across the table waved and smiled. Beside her sat a man whose stiff expression wasn’t hostile, as Seo-yeon noted.

The elegantly coiffed woman appeared to be in her early forties, while her husband looked five years older.

“Did you encounter traffic?”

When the woman extended her hand warmly, Seo-yeon shook it calmly.

“Ae-jung Mom... is that correct? Hello, I’m Han Seo-yeon. Thank you for welcoming me.”

“Ae-jung Mom? That’s embarrassing. My name is Oh Mi-yeon.”

Oh Mi-yeon smiled brightly, as if reuniting with an old friend. Her usually taciturn husband finally spoke.

“Please understand. My wife is excited because she feels like she’s meeting a comrade. As you know, criticizing Professor Sung Ho-yeon is treated like treason these days...”

Mi-yeon’s expression darkened slightly as she handed Seo-yeon the menu.

“That’s right—we even received threatening calls. The internet is swamped with Professor Sung’s fans. They’re practically cult members.”

Seo-yeon nodded emphatically, swallowing her disgust. Inwardly, she cursed: May those who mock victims’ suffering burn in hellfire.