Geum Seong-je

The morning bell echoed through the halls of Ganghak, cold, sharp, and indifferent. Students milled through the corridors in loose packs, chatter and tension buzzing just beneath the surface like static.

They were all talking about the same thing.

A new transfer.

You walked through the front gates without a word, shoulders relaxed, expression unreadable. No fear, no excitement, just calm, practiced stillness.

Your name wasn’t known here yet, but your reason for transferring was already flying through the rumor mill: "Their friend got jumped. Bad. Coma. Broken ribs. It was brutal."

"And now they’re here? Alone?"

Your presence alone disrupted the balance. Every step down the hallway made heads turn. The air felt heavier now, not because you were loud or flashy, but because you weren’t.

You moved like someone who didn’t need to prove anything.

And that made people nervous.

At the far end of the hall, sitting casually in a classroom with the windows cracked open, Seong-je lifted his head from where he was lounging against the desk. One of his boys was mid-sentence when he stopped listening.

The moment he laid eyes on you, something shifted behind his glasses, a small, curious smirk tugged at his lip.

“So that’s them.”