The first time Si-woo's world collapsed was the day his father died.His hero was reduced to nothing but ashes inside an urn, devoured by an unknown illness.His mother, once so caring, now spent most of her time with others, and most of his friends turned their backs on him.
Except Il-seong.
Il-seong had always been by his side. Even when Si-woo was at his lowest, humiliated by the school bullies, Il-seong clenched his teeth and stood there, unable to act—but present nonetheless. And so, even without a system or any power, Si-woo pushed himself to return to class the moment his mother left. He had to see his friend again.
What he didn't anticipate… was that the world had collapsed for the others too.
With Jeunk out of the picture, countless ambitious students were fighting to take his place. The school had become a contest to see who could become the most feared and respected brute—even if that meant forming gangs to achieve it. So when Si-woo left the infirmary and climbed the stairs in search of his classroom, he was immediately stopped by a group of overzealous sophomores.
— That's Jeunk's punching bag!
A lanky student with bleached blond hair and pierced ears pointed at him with a whistle. He and his friends were smoking in the stairwell like they owned the place. Some things at this school never changed.
Si-woo glared at him.
— Former punching bag, he corrected sharply.
The punk, barely reaching Si-woo's chest, flinched like a spring-loaded toy. He glanced back at his buddies, who nodded at him. A grin spread across his face.
— Doesn't matter. You're coming with us.
Before Si-woo could refuse, the kid drove a fist straight into his stomach. As Si-woo doubled over, gasping, another hand grabbed his shoulder.
— I just woke up from a coma, you idiot… he muttered weakly, dragged along by the group.
The biggest of them blew a bubble of gum right under his nose. A blast of mint and watermelon made his head spin. Laughter echoed above him.
They didn't care. Not one bit.
The sophomores forced him down to a hidden courtyard behind the sports equipment shed. Other students were already kneeling there, watched over by a senior year holding a baseball bat.
This looks really bad.
Si-woo wrinkled his nose. His grimace deepened when he recognized the senior year in charge—it was the same guy who had watched Jeunk's crushing defeat against Il-seong. Judging by the way his face hardened, the guy with the bat recognized him too.
— Well, look who crawled back from the dead.
— Jeunk's little lackey, announced the gum-chewer with unsettling pride.
This time, Si-woo didn't bother correcting them. He suddenly straightened, towering over his attackers by a full two heads. Off balance, the students stumbled back, staring at him wide-eyed. Shocked, they glanced at their leader, who was just as stunned. No one had expected Si-woo to fight back. He took the chance to turn on his heels and run. With some luck, he'd bump into Il-seong, and his friend would save the others.
His half-baked rescue plan ended with a blow to the back of his skull. Si-woo crumpled to the ground. Something warm and sticky trickled down his greasy hair.
Blood. He didn't need to check.
The sophomores dragged him to the kneeling row of students. The baseball bat now dripped with a red stain.
— This is just a warning, the senior year said coldly. So everyone here understands I'm serious.
Si-woo rolled his eyes. Great. He was an example now. The Terminal tapped his forehead with the bat as if knocking on a door.
— That goes for you too, punching bag. Stay alert.
He launched into a speech about how his "walking banks"—the students he extorted lunch money from—were showing a lack of loyalty. They'd been handing their money to other bullies.
— But… stammered a heavyset kid with crooked glasses, if we refuse, they beat us up.
BANG.
The bat smashed into the side of the kid's head with brutal force. The boy collapsed, trembling.
— I don't care, the senior year said flatly. That money belongs to me. Got it? If you're scared they'll hit you, then remember—I'll skin you alive if I catch you disobeying me.
Si-woo bit his tongue. How boring. He wanted to snap back that if he beat them too badly, they'd stop coming to school altogether. And then where would he get his money? At least Jeunk had known how to balance things—he only sent people to the hospital when they directly challenged his authority. Psychological torment was usually enough. Using a baseball bat was overkill.
The senior year pointed his weapon straight at Si-woo.
— Swear allegiance to me. If Jeunk's favorite mutt does it, the rest will have no choice but to follow.
Si-woo chuckled bitterly. After the system, this was the only "power" left to him? To choose which bully he'd serve under?
The senior year yanked his head back, digging his nails into Si-woo's hair.
— Are you mocking me?
Holding back the acidic retort burning on his tongue, Si-woo forced his expression into neutrality. Provoking him now would be stupid. Once again, he was powerless. But… he refused to bend so easily. He twisted out of the senior year's grip and pushed himself to his feet. The world tilted, but he stood tall enough to meet the bully's eyes. They were the same height, if not the same build.
— For the record, Si-woo growled, Jeunk saw me more as a rat.
Laughter erupted. He didn't know if it came from the sophomores or the other victims, but it didn't matter. The senior year 's face flushed red with rage. He raised the bat high, and Si-woo squeezed his eyes shut.
— Don't touch him!
That voice—familiar, commanding.
Si-woo opened his eyes, smiling in relief, and turned toward Il-seong. His friend strode toward them with long, confident steps. Even without his Master's eyes, Si-woo could see that Il-seong had changed in the past few days. His gaze was sharp, his walk firm, his entire presence stronger.
The bullies trembled. The senior year dropped his weapon, struggling not to kneel.
Si-woo shot a wink at the other kneeling students. Relief spread across his face.
But then… he froze.
Instead of feeling reassured by their savior's presence, the victims shivered in fear at Il-seong's approach.