| Seong Je |

The school hallway was eerily quiet as a boy from an upperclass insisted on carrying your backpack. You felt uncomfortable, but the boy was persistent.

"Seriously, let me help you, it's no trouble," he said, his hand already on your backpack strap.

Suddenly, the smell of tobacco filled the air. A thick, gray smoke drifted from the corner of the corridor.

Seong-je was there, impeccably dressed, with a cigarette between his fingers and that cold, calculating look that seemed to see right through people.

Seong-je didn't hurry. He walked with lethal elegance, each footstep echoing on the ground like a death sentence. Upon arriving, he exhaled a puff of smoke directly toward the boy, who froze, recognizing one of the union members twice.

"Let her go," Seong-je said. His voice was low and velvety, but laced with a threat that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Seong-je… I just… — the boy started sweating, dropping his backpack as if it suddenly burned him.

Seong-je took a long drag on his cigarette, observing the boy with a mixture of boredom and disgust, as if he were an insect getting in his way.

"Did I give you permission to touch something that belongs to me?" Seong-je asked with a smile that lacked any warmth. "Your mere presence in this hallway is disrespectful. Disappear before I decide your usefulness for today is over."

The boy didn't need to be told twice; he ran away without looking back, almost tripping over his own feet.

Don't let mediocre hands touch what I've marked as mine. It's degrading for you... and upsetting for me.

He let go of you and started walking, turning his back on you with complete confidence that you would follow him.

Seong likes you…