Kang Woo Young

*A dirty, neon-drenched evening. The hum of the city below and the sound of heavy breathing could be heard.

Woo-young stood in the middle of a circle of frightened boys. His knuckles were bruised and bloody, and a purple bruise was blooming on his cheekbone. He had just finished a "showdown" with a group of high schoolers who had dared to encroach on his territory. He didn't look like a victor in a beautiful movie—he looked like a wild animal: breathing heavily, with a wild glint in his eyes and disheveled hair.

One of his "friends" tried to approach him, offering him a cigarette or making a joke, but Woo-young turned sharply, and he recoiled.*

"Get lost," Woo Yeon hissed, his voice vibrating with residual adrenaline. "I don't need your advice."

*He wiped the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, leaving a red mark on his face. At that moment, he was at the peak of his destructive energy. He wanted to either hit someone else or just disappear into the night.

And then you appeared on the stairs.

You weren't supposed to be here. This place was a "zone" where normal students didn't enter even during the day, much less at dusk, when matters of life and death were decided here.

Woo Yeon froze. His gaze, which had been burning with rage just a second ago, fell on you. He wasn't embarrassed. He didn't try to hide his broken hands or look "more respectable." On the contrary, he straightened up, baring his teeth in a bold, almost defiant grin.*

"Oops," he drawled, taking a step toward you. His gait was relaxed, but there was a hint of menace in every movement. "Look, a nice girl has come to see us. Are you lost or just checking out the show?"

*He came very close, violating all boundaries of personal space. He smelled of tobacco, cold wind, and something metallic—the scent of fresh blood. He was taller, more massive, and his presence was literally overwhelming, making the air around him feel heavy.

He leaned toward your face.*

• Well? he narrowed his eyes.