Why it never ends

Chapter 1232 Betrayal
“I understand what you’re saying,” Packart said in a low voice. “You believe that it’s a manifestation of justice for someone to receive appropriate punishment for committing heinous crimes. I’m familiar with this idea… and to some extent, I agree with it.”

Packart gently patted the empty seat next to him, gesturing for Hester to sit down and get closer to her.

Hersta looked at her and sat down.

"But when we discuss what a person deserves, if we only look at what that person ultimately does, without considering what they went through along the way... is this fair in a civilized world, Jane?"

“What else would you like to see?” Hersta asked.

“When we talk about evil,” Packart said softly, “we must understand that evil is often not an isolated result. It may be caused by prolonged violence, poverty, discrimination, mental illness, lack of education, etc. It is often the condensation of a series of structural oppressions on an individual.”

“…Here we go again.” Hershta stretched out his palm and gently pressed it against his forehead.

She suddenly understood why Packart had mentioned Roger's example earlier. Perhaps in Packart's view, those nobles and the wealthy had ways to escape the death penalty, making it a punishment exclusively for the lower and middle classes. This was the first layer of injustice. Moreover, the criminals caught in this situation were often struggling to make ends meet and were forced to endure "a series of structural oppressions," which was an even greater injustice.

“Any perpetrator can be portrayed as a victim in some dimension; this is your favorite game…”

Packart did not respond, but simply stared at the young man before him. Hesta raised his hands, as if they were the two ends of a scale.

“A game of pity, a game of moral reflection…” Hesta murmured softly. She paused for a moment, then suddenly changed the subject, “Do you know where I was born?”

"where?"

“Short Sound Alley,” Hester said softly. “Pakatek, I came from Short Sound Alley.”

Packart's gaze trembled slightly.

"There are people trapped everywhere in this world. People suffering from violence, poverty, discrimination, mental illness, and lack of education are everywhere. Not everyone will become a perpetrator. Are you going to use the suffering of one person to justify the evil they committed? Are you going to spread it to the responsibility of the entire society and the entire system? Everyone is responsible, so no one is responsible; everyone needs to reflect, so no one needs to reflect... You can forgive yourself, but what gives you the right to forgive others? Is the civilized world you present the kind of civilization that others want?"

"Do you really believe that removing the death penalty from punishment will allow people to let go of hatred and move towards reconciliation? That would only force the families and friends of the victims to bear their pain alone—don't forget, the reason the judiciary can decide life and death is because people living in this society have relinquished the right to 'fight violence with violence.' If the provisions of the law cannot bring justice, then more people will have no choice but to resort to vigilante justice—"

“They shouldn’t have had to suffer the pain of killing, but…” Hershta’s voice became very soft, “the justice system failed them.”

In that instant, Hershta even felt a familiar pain fall upon her. She immediately clenched her fists, stood up, as if that would shake off those terrible things from her body.

Hesta took a deep breath and checked his watch again.

"...Time flies, I have to go." She glanced at Packart seemingly casually. "Don't be nervous, I just suddenly thought of this topic and came to talk to you about it."

Packer nodded, as if he accepted Hersta's explanation entirely.

Hershta coughed and strode toward the door. Just as her hand touched the doorknob, she heard the old man call her name again from behind.

"What's wrong?" Hershta didn't turn around.

“I have a question for you, it won’t be long,” Packart said softly. “Do you have time to listen?” “Go ahead.”

"If you were asked to choose three people who have helped you and had a profound impact on you right now, could you pick them out?"

Hershta's gaze became more wary. She didn't respond immediately, but silently pondered the purpose of the question.

“…Okay,” Hersta replied.

“What if I ask for more? Like six, nine, can you still pick them out?” Packart said. “You don’t need to tell me the specific names, just tell me if it’s okay or not.”

“Okay,” Hersta said in a low voice.

Packard nodded: "Okay, then let's choose nine, ranked in order."

"Well, then what?"

“Next, let’s remove the top three from your list—imagine a parallel world where they’ve never met you, and you’ve never had the chance to meet them… Tell me, Jane, would you still be who you are now? If they hadn’t come into your life, where would you be now, and what would you be doing?”

"..."

Hershta's breathing became more even, and her soft-focused gaze was fixed straight ahead.

“So, it’s still the same world. Now we’ll move those three people in the middle as well,” Packart said. “And what changes will happen to your life?”

After a moment of silence, Packart continued, "What if we take the last three as well?"

Hershta, still staring at the doorknob, said, "What are you trying to say?"

"Now, by a twist of fate, you have come from Duanming Alley to a habitable place... Will you like this seemingly civilized world? Will you accept it or reject it? If an accident happens, will you get closer to the victim or the perpetrator?"
"At that moment, what kind of justice would you expect?"

Suddenly, Hershta felt a sense of déjà vu.

She couldn't pinpoint where such a conversation had occurred—Yu Xuekun's consulting room? Anna's cruise ship? Or perhaps…

“In the past, I have worked with many children.” Packart sighed from his bedside. “Although many stories and news reports have said that some children are born bad seeds, born evil, in my long career I have never encountered any ‘incurable’ children.”

"Not a single one?" Hersta asked in a low voice.

“Not a single one,” Packart said softly. “All children, even the most sensitive, the most impatient, the most unruly ones, possess a certain shining sincerity within them.”

“…That’s good,” Hesta pressed down on the handle and turned around. “Please work even harder and don’t let those children with genuine hearts go astray. Otherwise, when they grow up, even if the law allows them to live by chance, they may still die at the hands of someone like me.”