Mold — Useless Right Hand

I'm scared. Don't leave me alone. Okay. You won't die.

No one can take you from me. Not the landlord, cops, or even the Grim Reaper! Visiting hours are over. Family, please leave.

Oppa. Come out, oppa. Lawyer, I want out. Please! Save us. Finally thinking clearly? Escaping isn't that easy.

We're in a tough battle. The prosecution's logic is solid. Though you're left-handed, they claim fury unlocks potential. They insist you swung the hammer right-handed and caused those devastating fractures.

That's not it. It really wasn't me. Yelling your innocence does no good. Unless you can prove to the judge

that your right hand can't do it at all. You must show it's utterly useless. There's something I hid out of shame. No one wants to know I'm worthless.

Tell me? My right hand. I can't even hold chopsticks properly. Really?

Then that microphone in front of you, stand it up. This stand is light; it needs no real strength. Use your right hand to set it upright for me.

Um... Can't do it? If you can't grasp this, then I can believe you. Sorry, lawyer.

It hurts so much. Like needles stabbing deep into my bone. I'm useless. I truly can't do anything.

Yes, I understand. Minjae, don't cry. This isn't shameful. As I promised...