"What… what the hell is this?"
My voice trembled — half disbelief, half panic. A wave of doubt hit me like a cold gust of wind. For a moment, everything around me seemed to freeze — the sounds, the air, even my own heartbeat. My mind struggled to process what my eyes were witnessing; it felt unreal, as if my thoughts had been wiped clean. I blinked once, twice, hoping it was some kind of prank or weird ad that would disappear, but it didn't.
On my phone screen, two guys were throwing punches like wild animals. The sound of fists colliding with flesh echoed through the air like thunder — and I swear, for a second, I could almost feel the impact in my own chest. Every strike landed with brutal force: dull thuds, sharp cracks, the scrape of shoes dragging across the floor. Blood splattered over the ground, mixing with the dirt and sweat clinging to the guys' skin. One stumbled back, clutching his side and gasping for air, while the other advanced, eyes blazing with fury.
What's going on?
There was no rhythm, no mercy — only chaos in a red room under a flickering light. Each movement grew heavier, more desperate, until a violent crack split the air as a final punch landed squarely against one fighter's ribs. The force sent him staggering backward before collapsing to the ground. He coughed violently, each spasm tearing him apart from the inside, leaving behind a trail of crimson proof of his breaking body.
Above him, the other fighter stood — chest heaving, fists still clenched, eyes burning with rage and victory. Dust rose around them, catching the faint light like smoke after a wildfire. For a moment, silence fell — the kind that only follows destruction — before the defeated man groaned, trembling as he tried, and failed, to push himself back up.
Comments started flooding the screen, scrolling too fast to read:
"Dude was high rank, why did he even go against him? lol"
"He's gonna lose SO much money."
"I bet on him. He better stand up."
"Looks like Kenzo's been working out."
"LOL."
"Is he even still breathing?"
"His ribs are definitely broken."
Did I just click the wrong stream or something?
I held my phone tighter, both hands gripping it like it might explode.
"I should just block whatever this is," I muttered.
My thumb hovered over the screen — but the instant I tried to swipe away, nothing moved. No exit, no back arrow, no response.
"What the…? I can't log out?!"
My heartbeat jumped into my throat. The screen flickered, my reflection flashing pale in the black glass before glowing again — red text spreading across it like code:
"Presentation over."
"Ranking: 42 Kenzo vs 22 Nero."
"Tick the right answer."
I blinked, leaning closer. Two boxes appeared:
"Who won: [Kenzo] [Nero]"
Next to each name were ID photos. My stomach dropped.
This wasn't some random stream — it looked like part of the same app I'd gotten the notification from. But this wasn't an assignment; it was… something else. I mean, what kind of app would display this atrocity and call it an assignment?
Is this some kind of hacking thing? A prank?
I hesitated, then tapped "Kenzo." Immediately, a math question slid onto the screen — still in red:
"What's 42 minus 22?"
I stared blankly for a moment, running a hand through my hair.
"I didn't even download this in the first place…" I sighed. "I guess I have no choice but to answer these stupid questions if I want to leave."
"2"
"0"
[→ "20"] appeared.
"Add '000,000' and write the result in letters."
"You've got to be kidding me," I groaned, typing : two million.
"Submit assignment."
I pressed the button. The result appeared in clean white font:
"New ranking:
22 Kenzo / 42 Nero
Nero, your penalty is ₩2,000,000."
And just like that, the screen went back to normal.
I sat there, staring at my reflection in the blank glass. This was too much to process. Maybe my phone's hacked. Yeah, that has to be it. Maybe I need a new one.
I tossed it aside and lay down, one arm behind my head, the other over my eyes. The ceiling blurred into a gray haze.
"That Nero guy though…" I muttered.
He looked familiar. His face flashed in my mind — the one I'd seen earlier in class, the same smirk, the same eyes.
No, it couldn't be. The one in the video was beaten and bloodied. Still… I couldn't shake the resemblance.
CLICK.
The lamp went off, and the room sank into silence. That night, sleep claimed me not as rest but as surrender; I was too tired to dream, too drained to think. Maybe it was the first time in months I didn't see flashes of my brother in my sleep.
The next day, the air at school felt heavy.
After class, I found myself in the bathroom, water running quietly as I washed my hands. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above.
I still can't get over yesterday… My hands trembled slightly, the water trailing between my fingers.
"Yo!"
A voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up at the mirror — tiny droplets shimmered at the tips of my hair, water trickling down my cheeks like fading raindrops. Nero stood by the door, two of his friends behind him, that same lazy smirk carved on his swollen face.
"Hmm," he said, leaning against the tiled wall, "how do I put this…" He suddenly clapped his hands. "Okay, let's keep it simple."
He tilted his head toward me.
"You give me two million won — and I'll leave it at that. Deal?"
My chest tightened. His tone was teasing, but his eyes weren't joking.
I took a slow breath. Don't start drama. Stay focused. Stay low.
I lowered my head over the sink. Think of a way to end this with the least damage possible.
Then, without warning, a fist cracked against my face.
Pain burst behind my eye as I hit the floor, one hand clutching my cheek. Blood trickled across my palm.
"I told you to keep it simple," Nero said casually, washing his hand under the running tap. "Are you slow or something?"
He glanced down, eyes sliding toward my shoes.
"Oh well," he smirked. "I'll just take the shoes and sell them. See? I can be generous sometimes. Great offer, isn't it?"
I glared up at him. Do I look that easy of a target to him?
Nero crouched, voice sharp. "What , are you deaf? Look at my lips—" He leaned closer, breath cold. "You. Give me the shoes. And I'll spare your pathetic little life."
I stayed silent, still sitting on the cold floor. I could feel his temper rising; his patience was wearing thin.
He scoffed. "Alright, looks like your soul's already gone. Rest in peace — I'll take it from here."
He bent down, reaching for my shoe—
I'd never thought I'd be capable of doing something like that, especially not out of fear, but in that instant, I drove my knee straight into his head.
The sound was sickening — a sharp crack that echoed through the tiles. Nero staggered backward, clutching his face.
I stood up fast, chest rising and falling.
Then — a buzz.
My phone lit up again.
"School Project."
Confused, I glanced around. From the door, I could see students in the hall staring at their phones too. Murmurs spread like wildfire.
On their screens — on my screen — the same footage.
A video. The bathroom. Me and Nero.
What the hell—
I barely had time to move before someone slammed me into the wall.
"You think I'd pass out that easily?" Nero growled, eyes blazing. He grabbed my collar, lifting me clean off the ground. "I hate losing, kid."
My feet dangled. My breath hitched. He's too strong… if I punch back, he'll just hit harder. I need another way.
The sound of students watching echoed faintly from the hallway.
I need to distract him first. I looked down — then snapped my gaze up, jabbing my fingers straight into his eyes.
"AAAH!! MY EYES!!"
He dropped me instantly, clutching his face. I swung my fist into his shoulder, then kicked him hard in the ribs.
He staggered back, slammed into a toilet, and screamed, "DAMMIT!!" before collapsing.
That kick wasn't even that strong… I realized, watching him writhe in pain. His ribs — they were already injured. I stood there, my fist trembling from the force, shaking with pain as images from last night flashed through my mind — Kenzo beating him, punch after punch to the same spot.
Right. That's why.
I straightened my tie, looking left and right. Nero's friends stood unfazed , watching silently. Some friends they were.
"Oh… my phone." I picked it up from the floor.
The screen blinked alive again:
"Winner: Kai
Ranking: 42 Kai / 112 Nero"
I froze for an brief moment . Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a faint red light — a tiny dot right above the mirror.
"Why are there cameras in the bathroom…?"
My heart raced. I looked around — another one. And another. Cameras lurked in every corner, capturing every conceivable angle.
I stepped out quickly. Standing at the far end of the hallway, I froze — shaken to my core — as dozens of small red lights glowed from every corner, staring back at me.
"...Shit."