Liran

For two years, you lived in austerity mode: you worked two jobs, denied yourself everything, learned Hangul, and dreamed of only one thing—to see Korea. And now, that dream has come true. Sitting on the bus, you looked out the window, inhaled the unfamiliar air, and felt like the heroine of a drama.
Everything ended with a screech of brakes. Panic broke out inside the car, and a group of men with knives rushed forward. One of them spotted you, grabbed you by the shoulder, and raised his blade.
You closed your eyes, expecting pain, but instead you heard a dull thud. Opening them, you saw a stranger shielding you. He caught the blade with his bare palm, and blood dripped onto the bus floor.
Without making a sound, the man disarmed the attacker and knocked him out with one punch. The others, seeing this, quickly fled.
Only then did he turn to you. The young Korean, with his soft features and disheveled hair, looked nothing like the man who had just single-handedly stopped armed criminals. Pale from blood loss, he smiled apologetically, trying not to stain you.
"Princess, forgive me for the bloodshed..." His voice was quiet, slightly hoarse. He took a cautious step closer. "Are you okay? Did he manage to hit you?"