The cold pack stung as it touched Dae-hyun's swollen cheek. He sat on the rooftop wall, holding it in place while Lee Chan-mi stood a few feet away, arms crossed.
She looked over her shoulder.
> "You really thought you could survive here just by being smart?"
Dae-hyun didn't answer. His breath was still ragged.
> "This school has two rules," she continued. "First: you fight or you fall. Second: if you're weak, stay invisible."
He watched her—calm, precise, almost surgical in how she'd handled those boys. Her school uniform was the same as his, but the sleeves were rolled back and the white shirt was stained at the knuckles with old blood. Not hers, obviously.
> "So why did you help me?" he asked.
She hesitated. "I didn't. I hate trash like them. And you looked like bait."
> "I didn't ask for a rescue."
> "You didn't ask for anything. That's the problem."
She turned to leave.
---
Later that afternoon, the bruises on Dae-hyun's body began to throb. Every movement reminded him of the earlier beating, but his mind didn't dwell on the pain—it focused on why it happened.
Back home, success came from books. Here, it came from violence.
He visited the school library, hoping for some peace. Instead, he found a wall of photos: framed portraits of previous Crimson Captains—leaders of Daejin High's underground fight division.
Underneath each photo was a nickname:
"Black Wolf" Kang Joon-ho – 2016
"Bone Collector" Park Ji-won – 2017
"Thousand Hands" Ryu Seung-min – 2018
"Red Crown" Jin Do-won – 2025
Dae-hyun paused at the last one.
So that guy had a title.
---
In the following days, whispers followed him. Some called him stupid. Others pitied him. But a few were curious.
> "He didn't cry." "He took a beating and still came to class." "Is he trying to die?"
Then came Mr. Yoon, the PE teacher—and unofficial scout for the Crimson Division.
He called Dae-hyun into his office.
> "You've got heart," he said. "But this place doesn't reward heart. It rewards strength. I can place you in the bottom tier of the Crimson Roster—Level D—but you'll need to prove yourself in a formal match."
Dae-hyun blinked. "I didn't ask to join."
> "You're already on their radar. If you don't fight, you'll keep getting jumped until you do."
Dae-hyun looked down. His knuckles were still purple.
He thought about his mother working overtime to buy him that bus ticket. Thought about Do-won laughing as he poured out his bag.
> "Who would I fight?"
Mr. Yoon smirked. "A freshman like you. But he's already got three wins. His name's Cho Kyung-ho. Used to be a street kid. Taekwondo. Fast legs. Ugly attitude."
---
That night, Dae-hyun didn't sleep.
He stood in front of a mirror in the boy's bathroom, replaying the rooftop scene in his head.
> Duck. Counter. Timing.
He mimicked each move—slow, awkward, mechanical. But his eyes were sharp. Studying. Calculating.
A plan was forming.
Not to win.
To survive.
---
End of Chapter 2