His hands did not tremble.
Mina’s did.
He placed the glasses back on his face and looked at her.
His expression was filled with sorrow.
“Investigator,” he began softly,
“this is exactly what has kept me awake these past weeks.”
The investigator set his pen down.
“What do you mean?”
“It appears to be a coordinated attempt to defame me.”
Han let out a long sigh.
“I devoted myself to my students. I treated them sincerely. And now that sincerity has become a blade pointed at my chest.”
Mina bit her lip. She tasted iron.
“Bohyun came to me at the end of December,” Han continued, his voice trembling—not with anger, but with wounded dignity.
“He was on the verge of defaulting on his credit cards. He knelt on the lab floor and begged me. ‘Professor, just this once. I’ll pay you back.’”
“Do you know how that debt happened?” Mina burst out.
The room paused.
The investigator looked at her.
“It was your birthday dinner,” she said, voice shaking but clear.
“We went to a club in Gangnam. You got into an argument with another group and disappeared. Bohyun and Taesoo stayed and paid the bill—?3.8 million. ?1.9 million each.”
The investigator’s pen resumed moving.
“You said Monday you’d ‘take care of it later.’ But you didn’t pay for a month! Interest piled up!”
Silence settled.
Han closed his eyes briefly, then opened them.
“That night,” he said calmly,
“I was ashamed.”
He bowed his head slightly.
“I ran into alumni. There was a misunderstanding with another table. I was intoxicated and left so my students wouldn’t be dragged further into it.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
He turned to the investigator.
“Yes, Bohyun and Taesoo paid. And yes, on Monday I told him I would handle it.”
Han opened a folder.
“And I did.”
He slid forward a bank statement.
“January 3rd. Five days ago. ?1.9 million transferred from my personal account to Bohyun’s.”
The investigator examined the document.
Mina felt the air thin.
“But,” Han continued gravely,
“when Bohyun came to me in late December, he wasn’t just struggling with the club payment.”
He met the investigator’s eyes.
“He had other debts. Personal spending. Multiple cards.”
Mina shook her head.
“No—he wouldn’t—”
“Have you seen his bank statements?” Han asked gently.
“His credit reports?”
She faltered.
“I have.”
Another document slid across the table.
“From September through November 2003. Personal expenditures exceeding ?500,000 monthly.”
The investigator read quietly.
“PC cafés. Karaoke rooms. Late-night bars.”
“Bohyun was living beyond his scholarship,” Han said, voice heavy with disappointment.
“When the club bill added to his existing debt, he collapsed.”
He tapped the transfer record again.
“I paid ?1.9 million so he could clear the club expense. That is documented.”
The investigator nodded slowly.
“And yet,” Han continued,
“shortly after, I learned Mr. Favez had filed a complaint. And that Bohyun was involved.”
He sighed again.
“I paid him. And now I’m being portrayed as someone who refused.”
“That’s not true!” Mina cried.
“He wouldn’t lie like that!”
“That is precisely the issue,” Han replied.
“Perhaps he recorded the expense as ‘unsettled’ despite receiving the funds.”
Silence.
“Why?” Han asked softly.
“Perhaps to construct evidence. To appear as a victim while settling personal debts.”
Mina’s thoughts splintered.
“And Mr. Favez’s visa.”
Another document emerged.
“Extension application submitted September 15th. Immigration stamp included.”
The official seal was visible.
“Unfortunately, his publication record did not meet requirements. One domestic journal article. No SCI-indexed publication.”
Han offered a regretful smile.
“I cannot override immigration law.”
The investigator leaned forward.
“Then why did he leave suddenly?”
“Shame,” Han answered quietly.
“He realized his performance was insufficient. Perhaps he understood he’d been misled.”
Mina’s vision blurred.
He had prepared everything.
Bank records. Visa documents. Message logs.
Even text messages from Bohyun:
Professor, managing research funds is complicated. Can I adjust entries later?
Professor, can I temporarily withdraw from your account? I’ll replace it when funding arrives.
Professor, may I increase my card limit this month?
The investigator examined the screen.
Han folded his hands.
“For twenty years I’ve mentored students. Some are now professors at Seoul National University. Some at KAIST. Some lead research divisions at Samsung.”
He placed a neat stack of business cards on the table.
“Please contact them. Ask what kind of mentor I am.”
The room grew still.
Mina felt something collapsing inside her.
The investigator’s gaze had shifted.
From suspicion—
to contemplation.
From anger—
to empathy.
Han put on his coat.
“I will fully cooperate. Bank accounts. Research funds. Every document.”
He walked past Mina.
And whispered near her ear:
“It’s not too late. Say you were manipulated by Bohyun. I can still help you graduate.”
Mina’s hands shook as she opened her bag.
Inside was a thick ledger.
Three years.
1,095 days of records.
Worn cover. Bent corners.
Bohyun’s handwriting.
She placed it on the table.
Thud.
The sound echoed in the room.
Han stopped at the door.
Turned slowly.
His eyes fixed on the notebook.
The corner of his mouth lifted.
Just slightly.
And in that small smile—
Mina felt something colder than fear.
Documentation over emotion.
Reputation over testimony.