Harm Assessment Report. Page 62.
For three days, Taekyung wrote and deleted the report over and over. The equivalent assessment of psychological harm. A document that would become South Korea's first precedent.
The final draft read:
Physical harm: Contusion equivalent to facial bruising. Fracture equivalent to the cracked rib. Auditory impairment equivalent to the eardrum damage. This was clear.
Psychological harm: Kang Yujin's PTSD, panic disorder, sleep disorder, and fear of social interaction were assessed as Grade 3 restrictions on daily life. As equivalent punishment, the offender would be subjected to the same level of restriction on daily life for the same period.
Specific method: Long-term detention in an isolated environment. All outside contact blocked. An irregular sleep environment created. Exposure to unpredictable noise.
Taekyung read the report. For the third time.
Was this equivalent retribution?
Kang Yujin lived in terror after being betrayed by someone she had loved. Lee Dohyun would be subjected to stress designed by the state in an isolated environment. The causes were different. The texture was different. Kang Yujin's panic came from “the face of someone she had loved.” Lee Dohyun's stress came from “the state's system.”
It was not the same pain.
But did a closer equivalent exist?
Taekyung concluded that it did not. A perfect equivalent for psychological harm was impossible. All that was possible was to measure “the degree of destruction inflicted on a life by the harm” and impose an equivalent degree of destruction on the offender's life.
It was imperfect. But it was the best that could be done at present.
Taekyung wrote the final sentence in the report.
‘The equivalent of psychological harm is not a replication of pain, but the equivalent of the life destroyed by that pain.’
He set down his pen and leaned back in his chair.
It had taken seventy-two hours to write that sentence. At first, he had written, “Reproduce psychological harm as the same psychological pain.” He deleted it. The same psychological pain did not exist. Next, he had written, “Quantify the functional impairment resulting from psychological harm and impose functional impairment at the same level.” He deleted that, too. It was bureaucratic. Kang Yujin's panic attacks were nowhere to be seen in that sentence.
The third version was the sentence he had now. Not a replication of pain, but the equivalent of a life. It was not perfect. But it was the most honest expression Taekyung had found.
Legal Review.
Jun Kyung read the report and said nothing for a long while.
“Assessor.”
“Yes.”
“If this report passes, every psychological-harm case going forward will follow this standard.”
“I know.”
“An isolated environment, sleep disruption, unpredictable noise. This is essentially a psychological torture protocol.”
Taekyung looked at Jun Kyung.
“What Kang Yujin went through for eight months was psychological torture, too.”
The softness vanished from Jun Kyung's eyes. He set down the papers.
“One revision is necessary.”
“Which part?”
“The duration. You based it on Kang Yujin's projected recovery period, but wrote that it would be imposed permanently if she was deemed incapable of recovery. Under the wording of the statute, this qualifies as ‘punishment equivalent to life imprisonment.’ The Equivalent Retribution Act has no provision for life imprisonment.”
Taekyung thought for a moment.
“You're saying we need a maximum.”
“Yes. We need to set a maximum duration for mental-harm equivalent execution. That way, it can be defended legally.”
Taekyung nodded.
“What would be an appropriate number of years?”
Jun Kyung flipped through the documents.
“According to Kang Yujin's psychiatrist, even partial recovery with active treatment will take at least three to five years. If we set the maximum at five years, it will have a legal basis.”
“Five years.”
Taekyung wrote down the number.
Would Kang Yujin be able to get better in five years? Taekyung did not ask himself that question. His job was to create numbers, not to look beyond them.
“I'll approve it.”
Jun Kyung signed the document. As he set down his pen, he said,
“Assessor. Once this precedent is established, Attorney Han Seojin won't sit back and do nothing.”
“I expect that.”
“And neither will the Director.”
Taekyung looked at Jun Kyung.
“Why would the Director care?”
Jun Kyung's expression shifted almost imperceptibly. A gentle smile returned, but his eyes did not smile.
“Once standards for assessing psychological harm are established, the scope of discretionary mitigation expands. Psychological harm is more ambiguous to measure than physical harm. The broader the ambiguous area becomes, the more room there is for discretion.”
Taekyung understood what he meant.
Director Kang Junhyeok would have more discretion.
“Is that what concerns you, Review Officer?”
Jun Kyung smiled.
“I’m someone who looks at the wording of the law. I see every possibility the wording might create.”
Jun Kyung left.
Taekyung sat in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
Director Kang Junhyeok. The man who had personally recommended Taekyung as a harm assessor. His mentor. The architect of the Equivalent Retribution Act.
More room for discretion.
Taekyung pushed the thought aside. For now, he had to focus on Kang Yujin's case.
The Day Before Enforcement.
Hyunwoo brought in the enforcement plan.
“There’s no problem with the physical-harm enforcement. The psychological-harm enforcement can’t be carried out by the Enforcement Division alone.”
“Why not?”
“Designing an isolated environment, a sleep-disruption protocol, a noise-exposure schedule. This isn’t medical treatment. It’s a psychological experiment. The Enforcement Division has no psychologists.”
Taekyung looked at Hyunwoo.
“I’ll assign an advisory consultant.”
“One more thing.” Hyunwoo spoke. “If the offender's mental state deteriorates during enforcement, we need criteria for stopping. A suicide attempt, the onset of psychotic symptoms, clouded consciousness. How far do we carry out the enforcement, and where do we stop?”
Taekyung was silent for a moment.
“We stop when we determine that the offender has reached the same level of psychological harm as Kang Yujin.”
“And who makes that determination?”
“The advisory consultant and I do.”
Hyunwoo looked at Taekyung. His eyes were cold.
“Assessor. I can carry out physical enforcement without error. Breaking bones and tearing ligaments can be measured. But carrying out enforcement while measuring in real time how badly a person's mind has been damaged—there's no way that can be error-free.”
Taekyung did not answer.
Hyunwoo set down the plan.
“I’ll carry it out. But I’ll put it in the record. The precision of mental-harm equivalent execution does not reach the precision of physical-harm equivalent execution.”
Hyunwoo left.
Taekyung opened the plan. Hyunwoo's handwriting was always precise. It was not a doctor's handwriting, but an engineer's.
Taekyung pressed beneath his right eye.
Precision.
Precision.
Hyunwoo was right. Mental-harm equivalent execution was bound to have a large margin of error. Within that margin, some people would suffer more and others less.
But if they refused to carry out enforcement because there was a margin of error, then there would be nothing to give back to any of the victims who had suffered psychological harm.
Imperfect justice, or the absence of justice.
Taekyung chose imperfect justice.
It was dark outside the window. He checked the time. 11:47 p.m. Enforcement would begin at nine tomorrow morning.
Taekyung took Kang Yujin's interview records from the drawer. He opened to the last page.
‘Will I get better if he’s punished?’
Taekyung could not answer that question. Perhaps he never would.
He closed the report. He did not turn off the lights. The next case file was stacked on the desk.
Taekyung picked up the file on top.
Case No. 2024-EQ-0231. Workplace harassment.
One victim. Four offenders.
Taekyung turned to the first page.
End of Episode 7.