“We need to take it public.” Minki says one day, over untouched cup noodles and a flood of papers. “This really isn’t working.”

Hongbin looks up with wide eyes, mouth open in a mid-way bite of noodles, which would be comical if he didn’t look so tired.

“We need to get this on the papers. We need to get people talking about it – I can’t rely on the court anymore. I feel like they’re just directing me in circles, pushing me from department to department, like, do any of them have the power to do anything at all? Don’t you feel like we’ve gone through these same exact application papers last week?”

Hongbin glances at the binders he’s holding. And perhaps it’s a psychological thing, but they do seem familiar – like they have the same reference numbers.

Hongbin puts down his noodles. “So what are you proposing?”

“I’m proposing we blow this whole thing up,” Minki leans forward. “Let’s go straight to the press. To the internet.”

“Sanghyuk might not want that.”                                                  

“He probably wouldn’t.” Minki frowns. “What about Jaehwan?”

Hongbin stops to think.                                                         

“No, no, no. They have to do it together. No one is going to believe one victim.” Minki mumbles. “They have to do it together.”

“So you want to make them friends.” Hongbin says with a finality. “That’s going to take us eons.”

Minki looks up earnestly. “Court process will take us two eons.” 

“They’ll have to testify together in the same court anyway.” Hongbin massages his temples.

“Yes. They’ll have to be friends for the judge anyway.”                             

The defeat behind Minki’s eyes is what pushes Hongbin to try. He knows that Minki has been increasingly frantic as the process draws longer, and he’s worried about where the case will end up if they have no where to turn. Maybe the court is trying to push them into a corner; an alleyway with no way out. He’s willing to take a last gamble with Minki if it’s one of the last things he does. There’s already so much at stake – nothing to lose if they stack more chips. 

Hongbin lets out a nervous sigh, as if his subconscious knows about a bigger storm coming. “Okay, let’s do that.”

***

Sanghyuk and Hongbin are cleaning out camera gear (Hongbin gently showing Sanghyuk where to polish) when the storm hits. Minki calls Hongbin’s phone, too anxious to wait for a reply over text, and almost simultaneously, the home phone goes off. Sanghyuk goes to pick it up, glancing nervously at Hongbin as he does, trying to see if there’s any way he can avoid having to talk to the other person on the line.

But he’s almost picking it up when Hongbin places a hand over the speaker of his cell phone and says, “No, leave it”.

So Sanghyuk goes back to cleaning, wary of the landline that rings incessantly until it stops – it has to – then it starts again. It rings three more times before Hongbin gets off the phone. He goes to unplug the landline from the wall and then sits back down, cross-legged opposite Sanghyuk.

“I’m sorry this happened before I could tell you,” Hongbin grabs Sanghyuk’s hands. “But you know the whole thing I talked to you about wanting to blow the case up by leaking information? Well, yeah. A few news agencies picked it up already.”

Sanghyuk doesn’t know what to say; sort of just freezes up and stays there, too in over his head to really understand what’s going on. Hongbin had talked to him about it, but he always thought it was subject to his agreement. He thought Hongbin had said a long time ago that he wouldn’t make Sanghyuk do anything he didn’t want to do. He had thought that maybe he was listened to here: that consent was a gift with no take-backs, no obligations. But maybe he thought wrong.

“It’s my face.” Sanghyuk shudders, pulling his hands out of Hongbin’s. “It’s my – my face. And I didn’t say yes.”

“No, no, no,” Hongbin says, desperately trying to tether Sanghyuk to reality with his words. “We didn’t release anything about you, or Jaehwan. They’re very vague articles – like, here, let me show you –”

“You asked and you didn’t wait for a reply, hyung, you –” Sanghyuk buries his head in his hands. “You didn’t – You can’t –”

“I didn’t know Minki was going to do it, you have to believe me. I told him to wait, but things leaked today and Minki said he had to.”

He had to. It’s a funny phrase for Sanghyuk, sarcastically, because he had to survive for the past decade on his own, bone-thin and hurting all the time. He had to pretend like he was functioning even when he didn’t want to wake up in the mornings. He had to grovel at people’s feet and beg and let his body be used, violated, if he wanted food. That’s what he had to do, without a choice. And now, suddenly, when the choice finally belonged to him: when he naively thought the choice belonged to him, the choice suddenly doesn’t matter anymore.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I didn’t know Minki was going to do it.” Hongbin preens, looking nervous. “I’m so sorry. I would’ve listened to you. Really.”

Sanghyuk takes a deep breath and for the thousandth time in his life, gives in. He is still adjusting to a world where he has the power to make someone nervous, where people sometimes act just to please Sanghyuk without expecting any returns, and in times like these he can’t possibly adjust to this new world even if he wanted to.

“Minki hyung did what he had to do,” Sanghyuk keeps his voice even, tries not to show just how internally devastated and defeated he is. “It was the right decision, I just – I want to go back to my room now, hyung.”

Hongbin just nods dazedly, the words taken straight out of him, like he’s completely forgotten how to speak.

Sanghyuk quietly pads to his room, and when Hongbin apologizes again before Sanghyuk closes the door behind him, the boy just gives him a half-hearted bow, shoulders slumped.

***

KNP: Magnates and elites found to be in possession of ography

Seoul – The Korean National Police have released an official statement confirming the investigation into the possession of ography by a number of wealthy local elites. “Hundreds of images and videos” have been recovered from searches conducted on 28 October around 7a.m., thought to have been triggered after a tip-off from victims of the very said ual abuse. Nothing has been revealed about the identities of those involved.

This comes after an earth-shattering and previously thought to be ludicrous leak about the illegal ual slavery trade happening among the wealthiest of our country. There have been many speculations on the case, but the KNP urges the public to keep calm. Investigations are still undergoing and the KNP states that felony charges are likely to follow.

There is already a huge buzz on the issue. Online, there are enraged petitions ongoing to expose the identities of those guilty of the offence.

***

askYonEi: On the big hoo-ha, is it even possible for the ual slavery trade to exist in Korea?

Busan – We speak to Mr. Park, the representative for the Republic of Korea for the UNHCR (United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees) on the recent controversy.

Q: Hi Mr. Park, welcome to the University and thank you for coming. The recent controversy has gotten everyone so riled up, hasn’t it? There are more than 10,000 signatures on the petitions online.

Park: Yes, it has. But for one I’m happy that our society still cares enough for those failed by the system. It shows us just how much power we have as a country, and we can turn things around as long as we all stay engaged. Usually, these things – similar to domestic and child abuse – everybody knows but no one really wants to think or do anything about it.

Q: Many readers are curious, however, with regards to the veracity of the leaked claims. Is it even possible for the ual slavery trade to exist in South Korea?

Park: Definitely. Modern slavery is still a pertinent issue, and my work at the UNHCR has been all about that. In this year alone, we’ve heard more than 10 cases of ual slavery; and these cases don’t get out easily. Victims need to know which forms to sign and which people to see, before they can really raise the issue, especially since these victims are illegally smuggled across borders. It’s why I know for sure that there are many more victims, maybe hundreds more silent victims out there that are unable to reach local authorities.

Q: Why hasn’t the trade been stopped yet?                   

Park:  Things are simply not as easy as that. There are giant webs of organizations with meticulous managerial structure and people scattered around the globe who keep the trade alive. They use the dark web; the part of the internet you and I cannot access and therefore have no idea that these transactions are happening right under our noses. It’s almost like an entire underground city beneath our existent one. Further more, we not only have to eradicate the sellers – we have to weed out all the buyers as well. Where there is demand, there will always be supply.

Q: Do you think the leaked claims might be an exaggeration? Claims about and torture, among many others?

Park: The media is definitely playing a large hand in it – scandalizing information and assumptions for the sake of boosting sales. But there is a possibility for these claims to be true. Year in and year out we see victims that are forever scarred by their experiences. Even with my close proximity to such cases and my years in the UNHCR, I still cannot really imagine the horrors they’ve been through. It would be a giant disservice to dismiss these claims as completely false. Even if it may not be true for the people in question, it is definitely true for many people out there.

Q: Is there any way that the common person can help to save victims of such trades?          

Park: Of course. Just raising awareness can really help generate movement in society and also among the lawmakers in parliament. As long as we can close the loopholes in the constitution, I, together with my colleagues at the UNHCR, believe that we can save many more. Online petitions may not seem like they do much; but they get our voices out as a collective body, and we are stronger together. I also urge the victims of the leaked claims to step out: without them, all this commotion may just be empty noise. They have the support of the people of South Korea. If they speak out, they can get a new life not only for themselves, but for hundreds out there.

***

Over the next few days, the internet is in a frenzy trying to figure out who the perpetrators are. Somehow the right information does get out and Moonhyuk and Soojin’s company stocks dip. The next name to come out is Lee Byunghee’s, but the longer they drag without the release of more information, the more netizens are starting to accuse innocent people. A few arbitrary names are thrown out, and official statements by companies are starting to pile up, everyone desperate to clear their reputations.

Sanghyuk, Jaehwan, Hongbin, and Minki find themselves in the law firm to figure out what to do with this whole storm of terror, staring at each other with an uncomfortable, musty silence.

“We should just come clean,” Jaehwan says nonchalantly, balancing the earwax extracted from his own ear on his little finger. “Give ‘em the good stuff. Gotta please the people, eh?”

Minki grimaces at the hygiene, but he brushes his distaste away. “I… agree. With Jaehwan. And Korean netizens never take long to uncover scandal, so it’s really just counter-intuitive if we purposely try to withhold information.”

Sanghyuk shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “A – Are there any other options?”

“We can let it be,” Minki replies, looking at Sanghyuk with an undefined guilt. “But there’s so much traction on the internet right now that if we let it die, public interest may never start up again.”

“And that’s the thing we’re banking on. Public attention.” Hongbin adds. “Without it the case is never going to see daylight.”

***

Later, Hongbin and Minki both leave the room with an premature excuse, something about both needing to go look at the photocopying room. All of them decide to ride on the media attention, after perhaps too much deliberation and too many mind maps drawn on the whiteboard by Minki trying to both convince them and talk them out at the same time. But with deep breaths and nervous glances (mostly towards Sanghyuk), Sanghyuk and Jaehwan now both have a press conference lined up next week.

Sanghyuk really, really doesn’t want to be alone with Jaehwan. But even if it’s not implied, Sanghyuk knows that Hongbin would at least want him on Jaehwan’s good side (technically, Hongbin said try to be friends with Jaehwan, but Sanghyuk doesn’t really know how to do that anymore – not with someone who doesn’t feel the same way back. So the easiest solution is to try and pretend like he’s the person Jaehwan wants him to be).

“I know you never agreed to the leak,” Jaehwan rests his feet on the table, stretching out like a cat against the back of the chair. “But I told Minki to go ahead with it. Convinced him to not wait for your reply.”

Sanghyuk nods evenly even though his heart does a sharp recoil and he can feel his cheeks heat up in humiliation. “It was a good decision. I was going to say yes.”

“Thought you were gonna say no, actually.” Jaehwan takes a swig from his mug, feeling the burn of whiskey down his throat.  

“Mm?” Sanghyuk unconsciously adjusts his coat, and then pulls away when he realizes he probably shouldn’t show off like this in front of Jaehwan. “How come?” 

“Because I thought you were too much of a .” Jaehwan sniggers, snakes writhing under his words.

Sanghyuk doesn’t faze; he visualizes a mental wall made of steel. “Well, we’re here now, aren’t we.”

Then Jaehwan sits upright and stares straight at him. Sanghyuk drops his eyes and slightly turns his head away, expecting to – expecting to be hit. Because even though Jaehwan is a victim, and Sanghyuk knows exactly what was done to Jaehwan, he isn’t anything like a victim. Even worse than that, Jaehwan is more dangerous than a handler. Because Jaehwan has been hurt before, so he knows exactly how to hurt other people.

Sanghyuk has a list in his head of which parts of his body to protect first if he’s being beat up. He doesn’t use it on anyone else but he’s sure Jaehwan isn’t the same kind of person he is.

The blow doesn’t come. Jaehwan just plucks a pen off the table and starts spinning it.