Early morning at Gangwon High School carried a deceptive calm.
The air was cool, the faint mist of dawn still clinging to the corners of the campus. Students trickled in through the front gates in small groups, their chatter soft and mundane. But behind the school building—wedged between the storeroom and the cracked concrete wall of the main structure—there existed a place that didn't belong to that calm.
A narrow, shadowy gap.
The kind of place teachers never checked.
The kind of place where trouble naturally gathered.
Low laughter echoed within that confined space, thick with arrogance and carelessness. The sharp, bitter smell of cigarette smoke lingered heavily in the air, curling lazily upward before disappearing into the pale morning light.
Two boys stood there.
One was fat—his bulky frame stretching the limits of his school uniform, buttons straining slightly at his stomach. His face was round, his expression perpetually smug. Between his fingers rested a cigarette, which he inhaled deeply, as if savoring not just the nicotine, but the authority he felt it gave him.
Beside him stood his lackey.
Thinner, but still rough-looking, with sharp eyes that constantly searched for reactions. He mimicked the fat boy in everything—from the way he held his cigarette to the way he laughed a second too late.
They were talking about last night.
"Man, that club was insane," the fat boy said, exhaling a long stream of smoke as a grin spread across his face. "Hey, let's go again today. I'll pay."
The lackey's eyes lit up instantly. He turned toward him, almost too eagerly. "For real? You'll pay?"
The fat boy scoffed, flicking ash to the ground. "Yeah, I said I'll pay, didn't I?"
Just as their laughter began to rise again, it was abruptly interrupted.
Footsteps.
Fast. Uneven.
Someone came running into the gap, nearly stumbling as he entered. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving as if he had sprinted the entire way without stopping.
He wore the same Gangwon High uniform.
But unlike the other two, he was skinny—painfully so. His frame looked fragile, almost as if a strong gust of wind could knock him over.
Park Jison.
The moment his eyes landed on the two figures in front of him, his entire body froze.
Then it started.
Trembling.
Not subtle. Not controllable.
His hands shook, his legs felt weak, and even his breathing turned shallow and erratic.
W-what… how did they get here before me…
The thought echoed in his mind like a death sentence.
He unconsciously took a step back.
A mistake.
The lackey noticed him immediately. A smirk spread across his face as he dropped his cigarette to the ground and crushed it under his shoe.
"So, Park Jison," he said, voice dripping with mockery, "you showed up."
The fat boy turned slowly.
The moment his gaze locked onto Jison, his expression twisted into something ugly.
Anger. Irritation. A hint of excitement.
Without a word, he flicked his cigarette straight toward Jison. It hit his chest and fell to the ground, leaving a faint burn mark on his uniform.
The fat boy cracked his knuckles loudly, one by one.
"Bastard," he spat, stepping forward. "Didn't we say come here before we arrive?"
Each step he took echoed heavily in the narrow gap.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Jison's body reacted instinctively—his trembling intensified, his feet rooted to the ground like he had forgotten how to move.
"Do you think we're weak?" the fat boy continued, his voice rising with each word. "You think we can't punish you?"
"N-no…" Jison stammered, his voice breaking apart. "I—I reached h-here on t-time… y-you came earlier than me…"
It was barely a defense.
Barely even audible.
But it was enough.
The lackey grinned wider, stepping slightly to the side as if enjoying the view. "Oh? Now you've got guts to argue with us?"
It was like pouring gasoline on a fire.
The fat boy's expression snapped.
Before Jison could even register what was happening—
The fat boy lunged forward.
A straight punch.
Fast.
Heavy.
Brutal.
CRACK.
The fist connected directly with Jison's nose.
For a split second, everything froze.
Then his body lifted slightly off balance, his vision going blank as pain exploded through his face. Blood burst instantly from his nose, splattering faintly onto the ground.
He didn't even get the chance to scream.
His body collapsed backward.
Limp.
Unconscious.
A dull thud echoed as he hit the ground, motionless.
Blood slowly began to trickle from his nose and the corner of his mouth, staining the concrete beneath him.
Silence followed.
Then—
"Damn," the lackey said, letting out a laugh as he looked down at Jison's unconscious body. "You knocked him out with just one punch. That's fucking hilarious."
The fat boy straightened up, rolling his shoulders as if warming down after exercise. A proud grin spread across his face as he pointed his thumb toward himself.
"Of course," he said smugly. "Do you know I recently joined a club where I learn advanced boxing?"
The lackey's eyes widened, practically sparkling. "Really? What's the name of the club?"
He leaned in slightly, almost excited like a child.
"If I had money, I'd join too."
The fat boy chuckled, clearly pleased with the reaction.
Behind them, Jison lay still.
Forgotten.
As if he wasn't even a person.
Without another glance at him, the two turned and walked out of the gap, their conversation continuing as they headed toward the school building.
Their laughter slowly faded.
Leaving behind only silence…
…and the faint metallic smell of blood in the cold morning air.
An hour had passed.
The morning had fully settled in, and the distant sounds of classes beginning—chairs scraping, teachers calling attendance, students whispering—echoed faintly across the campus.
But behind the school building, in that same narrow, forgotten gap…
Park Jison lay on the cold ground.
Motionless.
Until—
A faint twitch.
His fingers trembled slightly before his eyelids slowly fluttered open. His vision was blurred, tinted in a hazy blue as if the world itself hadn't fully loaded back into place.
"…ugh…"
A weak groan escaped his lips.
Pain followed immediately.
Sharp. Crushing. Relentless.
It spread from his face to the rest of his body like a violent tide. His nose throbbed unbearably, each pulse sending another wave of agony through his skull. Even breathing felt like dragging broken glass through his chest.
"Ahh… it hurts…"
His voice was barely audible, shaky and uneven.
He tried to push himself up.
His palms pressed against the rough ground, fingers digging into the dust as he forced his arms to lift his body—but they gave out almost instantly.
His arms trembled violently.
Weak.
Useless.
He collapsed halfway, catching himself awkwardly before fully falling again.
"Fuck…"
The word slipped out instinctively, laced with pain and frustration.
His nose burned. His face felt swollen. Something warm and sticky had dried along his lips—blood.
His thoughts began to piece themselves together.
Fragments at first.
Then clearer.
Ahh… it hurts… He h-hit me without a r-reason…
His breathing grew uneven as the memory surfaced.
I came h-here when he asked… but they just wanted to beat me… that's why they came before me…
His fingers curled slightly against the ground.
A quiet realization.
Not new.
Just… confirmed.
And that realization dragged him deeper—back into the past.
---
It had started a month ago.
His first day as a second-year student.
Everything was already difficult before that. His father's sudden transfer had uprooted their entire life, forcing Jison to leave behind everything familiar—friends, routines, even the small sense of comfort he once had.
Gangwon High School was supposed to be a fresh start.
But the moment he stepped into his new classroom—
That illusion shattered.
He remembered it clearly.
The door sliding open.
Dozens of unfamiliar faces.
Eyes turning toward him.
And then—
Thud.
He had bumped into someone.
A large body.
Solid.
Unmoving.
Jison had stepped back instantly, panicking. "S-sorry—"
But the apology didn't matter.
The boy he had bumped into slowly turned around.
That fat bastard.
The same one.
The one who had just beaten him unconscious.
At that time, Jison didn't know.
Didn't understand.
That single moment…
Was the beginning of everything going to shit.
From that day onward, it started small.
A shove here.
A mocking comment there.
Then it escalated.
Every day.
Relentless.
The fat bastard and his lackey made his life a living hell—calling him out, humiliating him, hitting him whenever they felt like it. And eventually, they gave him a rule.
A fucking rule.
Come to the gap behind the school before they arrive.
Every single time.
No excuses.
No delays.
Or they'd beat him worse.
And if he tried to tell anyone—
His family.
His fucking family—
They'd "teach them a lesson" too.
That threat…
That was what broke him.
That was why he obeyed.
Why he showed up.
Why he endured it.
---
Back to the present.
Jison's breathing grew heavier as the memories faded.
His body trembled again—not just from pain this time, but from something deeper.
Fear.
Helplessness.
Slowly, painfully, he forced himself upright.
His arms shook as he pushed against the ground, managing to rise to his feet—barely.
His legs wobbled beneath him, unstable as if they might collapse at any moment.
Still…
I need to go to class…
The thought was faint, fragile.
But it was there.
He couldn't skip.
He couldn't give them another reason.
He took a step forward.
Just one.
And that was enough to break him.
His knees buckled instantly.
His body dropped hard—
Thud.
He fell to his knees, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as fresh pain shot through him.
"…shit…"
His vision began to darken at the edges.
The strength in his body drained rapidly, like something was pulling it away from him.
His breathing slowed.
His head tilted slightly downward.
No… I have to…
But his body didn't listen.
His vision faded further—
And then…
Something appeared.
Right in front of him.
A faint glow at first.
Then clearer.
A strange light.
Black… mixed with crimson.
It pulsed softly, like a living thing.
Unnatural.
Out of place.
Jison's half-lidded eyes focused weakly on it, confusion flickering across his fading consciousness.
W-what… is that…?
The light flickered again.
Brighter.
Closer.
But before he could process it—
His body gave out completely.
His vision went black.
And Park Jison collapsed forward onto the ground once more.
Unconscious.