The final school bell was a sharp sound that usually signaled freedom. Today, it was a starter's pistol.
As students flooded the corridors with chaotic energy, Jack remained seated, deliberately slow. He watched through the window as Park Ji-hoon, Choi Seung-min, and Lee Min-ji gathered by the bike sheds. Their heads were close together, a council of predators. Park glanced back at the school building, his eyes scanning their classroom windows. Looking for me, Jack thought. Or for Kang Da-wool.
Da-wool had already fled, a small, swift figure clutching his art portfolio, disappearing around the corner toward the art wing as instructed.
[System Alert: Primary Victim (Kang Da-wool) is secure. Sub-Objective 'Prevent Harm' is active. Focus shifts to Main Objective: Intercept and Punish.]
[Warning: Hostile intent from Targets 1, 2, and 3 has intensified. Probability of coordinated ambush: 96%]
Jack stood up. His body ached faintly from the fall. He ignored it. Pain was data; it told him the limits of this vessel. He slung his bag over his shoulder—lighter now, with unnecessary books left behind—and walked out, not with Min's cowering shuffle, but with a quiet, purposeful stride that made a few lingering students unconsciously move aside.
He took the back exit, the one by the janitor's closet, a route Min's memories marked as "safe" because no one used it. Today, it served a different purpose: controlled exposure. He wanted them to see him leave alone. He wanted to lead.
The route to the abandoned building near the bus stop wasn't direct. Jack chose a path winding through quieter residential streets, past empty lots and under the concrete legs of a highway overpass. Perfect ambush spots. He was counting on it.
His senses were hyper-alert. The Basic Stealth skill made his footsteps nearly silent, allowing him to hear better: distant traffic, a barking dog, and—there—the not-quite-synchronized steps of three people trying to be quiet about fifty meters back.
They took the bait.
He didn't look back. He adjusted his course slightly, leading them toward the chosen ground: the empty lot beside the derelict building. It was littered with construction debris, old tires, and tall, dry weeds that offered shifting, unreliable cover. The building had one accessible doorway and several broken ground-floor windows. A simple battlefield.
"Hey! M-min!"
The shout, laced with forced bravado, came from behind. Jack stopped and slowly turned.
Park, Seung-min, and Min-ji stood at the mouth of the lot, blocking the way back to the main street. Park's usual polished smirk was gone, replaced by a tight, angry line. Seung-min was glaring, his ankle probably still throbbing. Min-ji looked nervous, excited, her phone subtly held at her side—recording, Jack guessed. For blackmail or entertainment.
"You think you're smart now?" Park spat, taking a few steps forward. The two lackeys fanned out slightly. "Talking big in class? Spying on us?"
Jack said nothing. He assessed. Park was the center, the ego. Seung-min was the brute force, itching for payback. Min-ji was the wild card—cruel but not physically brave. He needed to split them.
"Where's the little artist?" Seung-min growled, cracking his knuckles. "We had plans for him. You ruined it."
"Plans change," Jack said, his voice calm, almost conversational. He took off his glasses, folded them, and placed them carefully inside his jacket pocket. The world became a slight blur, but the sharp, trained focus in his mind crystallized. He didn't need to see their pores; he needed to see their stances, their tells.
The action—so deliberate, so utterly devoid of fear—unnerved them. Park's confidence wavered for a second.
"You're going to pay for what you did," Park said, nodding to Seung-min.
Seung-min lunged first, as predicted. A straightforward charge, fists raised. Brute force, no finesse. Jack didn't meet it. He sidestepped at the last moment, using Seung-min's own momentum. As the larger boy stumbled past, Jack's hand shot out—not a punch, but a precise, stiff-fingered jab to the nerve cluster just below Seung-min's ribs.
'A strike doesn't need power. It needs accuracy. Hit where it paralyzes, not where it bruises.' An old lesson from a different life.
Seung-min gasped, his charge turning into a wheezing stumble as he clutched his side, temporarily incapacitated.
"What the—!" Park stared, shocked. Min-ji let out a small squeak, taking a step back.
Jack moved. Not away, but toward Park. The key was to keep the leader off-balance. Park swung a wild haymaker. Jack ducked under it, coming up inside Park's guard. He drove the heel of his palm up toward Park's nose—a motion that could shatter bone and cause blinding pain and tears.
But he stopped it a centimeter short.
The force of the halted blow still made Park flinch violently, stumbling back, eyes wide with terror. He hadn't been hit, but he had felt the death in the move, the professional certainty behind it.
"You're weak, Park," Jack said, his voice low, carrying across the empty lot. It was Jack's voice now, bleeding through Min's vocal cords. Cold, dispassionate. "You pick on those who can't fight back because you're terrified of anyone who can. You're not a king. You're a parasite feeding on fear."
Park's face contorted with rage and humiliation. "Get him!" he shrieked at Min-ji, who was still holding her phone, her face pale.
Min-ji hesitated, then threw her phone at Jack's head. It was a clumsy, desperate move. Jack caught it easily, his reflexes enhanced. He looked at the recording screen, then at her.
"Evidence," he said flatly. He dropped the phone to the ground and, with a swift, controlled stomp, crushed the screen under his heel. The sound of cracking glass was final.
Seung-min was recovering, rising with a roar of anger. Now it was two against one, with Min-ji as a panicked spectator.
[System Prompt: Threat level elevated. Suggest utilizing environment. Bonus objective available: 'Humiliate through their own tools.']
Jack's eyes darted around. An old, weathered wooden pallet. A length of rusty, loose chain. The tall weeds.
Seung-min came at him again, more cautiously, throwing a jab. Jack deflected it, grabbed the extended wrist, and used Seung-min's own weight to spin him toward the pallet. A sharp kick to the back of his knee sent Seung-min crashing onto the splintered wood with a pained yell.
Park seized the moment, grabbing the rusty chain and swinging it like a whip. Jack ducked, the chain whistling over his head. As it recoiled, Jack lunged forward, not at Park, but at the chain itself. He grabbed it mid-air and yanked hard.
Park, caught off guard, was pulled forward. Jack shifted his grip, wrapping the chain once around Park's leading wrist in a swift, practiced motion, and pulled it tight. Park cried out, dropping to his knees, his arm painfully pinned.
In less than a minute, Seung-min was groaning in a pile of splinters, and Park was on his knees, restrained by his own weapon. Min-ji was frozen, tears of fear now mixing with her earlier excitement.
Jack stood over Park, breathing steadily. Min's body was tired, adrenaline fading, but the will inside was iron.
"This," Jack whispered, leaning down so only Park could hear, "is a fraction of what Min Hyun-seong felt every day. The helplessness. The pain. The terror that seeps into your bones."
He tightened the chain a fraction. Park whimpered.
"But I'm not Min. He wanted it to end. I want it to continue."
He released the chain, letting Park slump to the ground, clutching his wrist.
Jack stepped back, looking at the three bullies—broken, humiliated, terrified. This wasn't the killing blow. The System demanded "torture" before death. But this was a start. Psychological terror. The destruction of their invincible self-image.
"The next time you think of touching someone weaker," Jack said, his voice carrying the finality of a judge, "remember today. Remember that anyone, anyone, can be more than what you see. And some can be far, far worse."
He turned and walked away, leaving them in the dirt and debris. He didn't run. He walked, a small, lone figure fading into the gray afternoon.
[Main Objective Updated: 'Intercept and Punish' - COMPLETE.]
[Sub-Objective: 'Prevent Harm to Kang Da-wool' - COMPLETE.]
[Rewards Granted: 'Analytical Eye' (Temporary ability to see psychological stress points in targets). Information Packet: 'Park Ji-hoon's Secret' unlocked.]
[New Data: Target 1 (Park) - Hidden vulnerability: Father's impending political scandal. Fear of exposure is primary driver of his need for control and flawless image.]
A ghost of a smile touched Jack's lips as he walked. Not the smile of Min, nor the cold grin of the killer. Something new. The smile of a strategist who had won the first skirmish.
The war for "justice" was just beginning. And he now had a new, powerful weapon: their own secrets.
He put his glasses back on. The blurry world snapped into soft focus. The shadow was receding, and Min's face was back—but the eyes behind the lenses held a storm that would never fully settle. The hunter had tasted blood, and the hunt was now truly on.