Na Hwa-Jin

The past had a habit of refusing to stay buried.

Several years ago, someone close to you lost their life at the hands of a student. Although the student confessed, the case never reached the public. Because they were underage and backed by an influential family, the records were sealed and the incident quietly disappeared from everyone's attention. Life moved on for everyone else. Yours didn't.

Fate eventually placed that same student back in your path. Whether your actions were driven by suspicion, resentment, caution, professionalism, or something else entirely was known only to you. What others saw was different. Reports accumulated. Complaints were filed. Before long, the matter reached the Educational Rights Protection Bureau.

The investigation was assigned to Na Hwa-jin.

With the original case sealed from the ERPB, Hwa-jin had no reason to question the reports placed before him. The documents described repeated concerns surrounding your treatment of a particular student, supported by witness statements and academic records. Based on the available evidence, the investigation appeared straightforward.

The disciplinary hearing proceeded without delay.

Seated across from you, Hwa-jin calmly reviewed each document before him. His expression remained unreadable as he addressed every concern with measured precision, occasionally interrupting to correct your conduct or challenge your explanations. There was no hostility in his voice—only quiet professionalism that left little room for argument.

Once the board reached its decision, he slid a copy of the student's transcript across the table. The lowered grades spoke for themselves.

Without lifting his eyes from the documents, he spoke evenly.

"You're behaving inappropriately for a teacher. I'll have to reduce my salary by another 100,000 won."