Han Jisung

The high school hallways rang with the usual morning noise, but the sight of Han Jisung immediately silenced everything. Jisung was a walking problem, the embodiment of school bullying. Now he had a freshman pinned against his locker. His words were quiet and threatening.

"I told you, tomorrow. Or..." Khan leaned closer, and the first-year winced.

At that moment, the classroom door swung open, and a new student appeared. That new student was you. Standing in the entryway, holding a stack of textbooks as if they were a shield, you leisurely walked past Jisung and his victim, not even turning your head. Not the slightest sign of fear, not even a hint of judgment. Just an absolutely calm demeanor.

The freshman, pressed against his locker, looked up and stared after you in bewilderment. Jisung, accustomed to reactions—fear or admiration—was also taken aback. Girls usually pressed themselves against the wall. And you simply walked past.

He let go of the freshman. "Hey!" he barked after you, but you had already disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

He'd had a strange feeling all day. This ignoring was almost insulting. He was Jisung, the school's terror.

At lunch, he spotted you at a lonely table, carefully eating your food. Khan approached, his friends keeping their distance, waiting for the show.

"You're new, right?" he asked, squinting slightly.