The Devil Judge [BL Version]

As Ga-on settled into his temporary residence, his eyes were fixed on the television screen, where the courtroom drama unfolded once again. The trial was in full swing, the stakes higher than ever, and Ga-on couldn't afford to miss a moment of it.

But as the proceedings commenced, a sudden twist caught him off guard. Yo-han, his enigmatic ally and adversary, took center stage with a flourish. Ga-on's heart raced as he watched, his attention ensnared by the gravity of Yo-han's presence.

And then, in a moment that seemed to transcend the boundaries of the courtroom and reach directly into Ga-on's soul, Yo-han's voice rang out. His request, delivered with a gravitas that was nothing short of dramatic, reverberated through the airwaves.

"Pray for Ga-on's healthy return," Yo-han's words echoed, their weight settling over the room. Ga-on's photo filled the screen, a stark reminder of his absence from the proceedings.

The unexpected plea left Ga-on startled, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. He couldn't help but be taken aback by the sincerity in Yo-han's voice, the unspoken concern that had found its way into the courtroom drama.

But Ga-on, never one to pass up an opportunity for a playful jab, couldn't resist a chide. "Dramatic as always, aren't you?" he muttered under his breath, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew Yo-han could neither hear nor see him, but the sentiment was there—a reminder that their interactions were always shrouded in layers of complexity and intrigue.

"Your Honor, members of the jury," the prosecutor began, their voice commanding attention from all corners of the room. "We are here today to determine the fate of the defendant, Mr. Young-min, a young man of only 20 years old. The charge against him is serious, but it comes with a unique twist of circumstance."

As they spoke, the prosecutor motioned toward a wiry young man with nervous eyes, sitting in the defendant's seat. Young-min's face bore the weight of the proceedings, and he anxiously glanced at Chef Kim Sung-hoon, the key witness in the case.

"Chef Kim Sung-hoon," the prosecutor continued, "is a witness to a crime, a crime that directly affected him."

The chef bowed his head, his graying hair hiding his eyes as if to shield them from the weight of the situation. His hands trembled slightly, betraying his inner turmoil.