“You killed him.”


Stunned by the bluntness of the words, Hong Jae-min’s frown turned into a scowl.


“What did you expect me to do when you were weak and fell off……!”


He denied it before pulling Song Yi-heon away from him. He tried to grab him, but Song Yi-heon was quick. Song grabbed Hong Jae-min’s arm like lightning and pulled him down. It happened so fast that Hong Jae-min was dragged down by a choking collar.


A shiver ran down his spine from the grip, perhaps because being labeled a murderer was too much for a high school student to handle. Kim Deuk-pal lowered his gaze to find Hong Jae-min’s hand clenched into a fist. The fist trembled slightly. It was almost pitiful to see his eyes bulging as he tried to look tough, or the way he looked.


“Tsk tsk.”


Kim Deuk-pal laughed, hearing wind in his lungs. His resolve broke as the young man shivered with exhaustion. He wondered what he was doing. Talking to them for a hundred days is useless, and hawks are the medicine.


Pushing away Hong Jae-min’s slap, Kim Deuk-pal took off his mask. The group rushed to Hong Jae-min’s and looked at Song Yi-heon with bated breath. As he threw the mask on a pile of plastic bottles and cleared his throat, it didn’t feel like a waste.


“Quick, let’s go. I have a class.”


He snapped his fingers in annoyance, and Hong Jae-min’s group jumped up and down. Song Yi-heon, the bully, had won. A wave of embarrassment washed over him.


“I, that fucking asshole!”


His exaggerated tone was more like prey desperate to puff itself up in front of a predator. Song Yi-heon rolled up his sleeves and smirked, his chin raised at an angle ready for a slap.


“Hey, hit him. It takes hard work to fight a brat. The buns crumble.”


“That asshole’s liver sticks out of his stomach!”


Someone from Hong Jae-min’s group lunged forward to take the lead, but he was quickly grabbed by the shoulders and yanked back. Hong Jae-min, who jumped up, took his place and swung his fist. His blood-red fist sank into Song Yi-heon’s cheek.


His jaw snapped back with a sickening thud. Hong Jae-min, his fist open, breathed raggedly. It was a fist that would have left the previous Song Yi-heon lying on the floor.


He stood with his legs on the ground. Song clenched his jaw and spat.




His mouth burst open, and a long stream of thick red liquid, almost blood, flowed out. He ran his thumb across the corner of his mouth and wiped the blood away. His lips were stained red, and his lips curled as his clear, shaped eyes fixed on Hong Jae-min.


“Nice fist.”




And again. A chill ran down Hong Jae-min’s spine, as if he was dealing with a person wearing Song Yi-heon’s mask. It was difficult to believe that this was the same person he knew.


Song Yi-heon’s body is weak. He bleeds easily at the slightest shock, and the same wound hurts many times as much as others, so the original Song hated being sick and was afraid of getting hurt. Sometimes he felt his mother was too harsh on him.


Kim Deuk-pal, on the other hand, probed his mouth with his tongue to check for a wound. The only thing that changed was his soul. His body was the same, so he should feel the same pain as Song Yi-heon felt, but Kim Deuk-pal didn’t let it control him.


He rose to the head of an organization with a single fist. To be hurt by a delinquent’s fist would be even more ridiculous. However, if it was painful, it hurt, and Kim Deuk-pal was not the type to complain about it.


“You, who are you?”


Hong Jae-min, who didn’t know what was transpiring on, shouted. Kim moved forward. The hem of his shirt peeked out from beneath the loose knit.


“Me? Song Yi-heon.”


“Don’t be ridiculous! That bastard needs to be spanked and squirm, that’s the way to go, cuck!”


“You have a long tongue, Jae-min.”


Kim Deuk-pal’s fist slammed into Hong Jae-min’s face. The minuscule bony fist struck its target precisely. Hong Jae-min curled up at his waist and gagged. That was the beginning. With their leader down, the others turned and charged.


“Hey, Fuck, hit him!”


Hong Jae-min’s gang’s fists were numerous, as if every word was an unnecessary punctuation mark. He’d seen them all before, but they were slow, and they had spirit. Oh, no. Kim Duk-pal swung his fist, defining charging children in one word.




The experienced man’s fists were seasoned and fierce. The rush was the main focus of the campaign. Song Yi-heon’s delicate flesh could not withstand the intense blow and was peeled off, leaving his fist covered in blood in no time.


But Kim hasn’t been deterred or slowed down.


Song leapt up, using the stumbling man’s abdomen as a springboard. He kicked the charger in the chest and slammed a fist into his face. The teenager’s body was light and swift. Kim Deuk-pal did as he pleased.




A bear-sized man pounced on Song Yiheon from behind. Sensing the shadow over his head, Kim Deuk-pal lowered his center of gravity. He grabbed the bear’s arm and slammed it behind his back. The simulation in my head was flawless. He grabbed my arm. The only problem was that Kim Deuk-pal hadn’t fully adapted to Song Yi-heon’s physique.




Kim Deuk-pal’s eyes widened at the enormous weight on his shoulder. If it were Kim Duk-pal’s body, it wouldn’t be a problem for him to carry a large male student, but now it was Song Yi-heon’s body, which was petite and slender. It was impossible to pass a boy nearly twice her size.


The male student who grabbed his arm was overjoyed as Song Yi-heon was pinned down and shaking. His weight crushed him as he shouted.




The guys who had been punched and knocked out rushed forward. A large boy grabbed Song Yi-heon from behind, pinning his arms and pulling him to his feet. Song Yi-heon


Song Yi-heon gasped for air and looked up. He twisted his upper body to free his arms, but it only weakened him.




Hong Jae-min’s voice was murderous as he pushed his way through the crowd. In his hand, he held a pruning knife he’d picked up in the incinerator. He gripped it like a baseball bat. He aimed at Song Yi-heon’s head.


“Hold on tight if you don’t want me to beat you.” 


Kim Deuk-pal laughed a bitter sneer as he felt the bound schoolboy swallow dryly and stiffen. He glared at Hong Jae-min.


“The small bastard has only learned to be mean.”


“I’ve learned to be an asshole.”


The gakmok was held high by Hong Jae-min. With the sun behind it, the prickly pear pierced the sky and became a black bar. Song Yiheon also looked up. He couldn’t miss it in his blurry vision.


“Huh, you’re lost.”


Hong Jae-min took a deep breath and swung the gourd. It was a half-swinging moment. Song Yi-heon hit the ground, his long legs stretched out in front of him from the recoil.


Song kicked hard with all his weight. Hong Jae-min was hit in the chest and rolled backwards.






The surprised crowd called out Hong Jae-min. So did the big boy who grabbed Song Yi-heon. Song Yi-heon struck the big boy in the face with the back of his head, causing his skull to throb.




The big boy fell, his nose bloodied.


Song Yi-heon quickly jumped out. He pushed his fist through the throng of kids surrounding Hong Jae-min. He punched Hong Jae-min, who had just been helped to his feet. Hong Jae-min couldn’t scream and fell to the ground. A high-pitched warning blared from above.


“Stop! What are you doing? Stop now!”


Jung Eun-chae shouted urgently upstairs, hanging from the window.


The only reason Hong Jae-min’s family wasn’t destroyed while he ran to the incinerator was his injustice. Humans are emotional animals. He took the seat he was beaten in today and flirted with Song Yi-heon, forgetting his past harassment.


Although they were also at fault, they couldn’t let Song Yi-heon, who they had punched, get away with it, so they waited for the church’s punishment.


“Ah, shit…..


As they waited, Hong Jae-min chewed on a string of profanity and spat. Unlike the children who pretend to want to protect their last bit of pride, Song Yi-heon calmly trimmed his hair. He wore a maid and habitually fumbled with his inner pockets.


The pocket was flat. Wondering if he had inadvertently damaged the original Song Yi-heon by being exposed by the teacher, Kim Deuk-pal sighed heavily as he finished his cigarette. He tucked a lock of his short hair between his fingers and ran it from side to side.


It wasn’t a double entendre, nor was it an act of nervousness. It was just a small gesture of embarrassment, and yet Hong Jae-min’s heart sank as if Song Yi-heon had noticed. From then on, the incineration site was silent until Jung Eun-chae arrived. The silence was punctuated only by prying eyes that stared at Song Yiheon like a soundless shout.


“You guys!”


Soon, Jung Eun Chae burst out, her white hands gripping the building corners for support. She sprinted the short distance, and Choi Se-kyung caught up with her as her legs gave out.


Choi Se-kyung, a head taller than Eun chae, blinked innocently as if she didn’t know what the fuss was about.


Choi Se-kyung was stunned. His eyes drooped slightly and he looked around the crime scene, which was dotted with blood. At first glance, it was an exemplary response, with the cognitive assumption of concern for the victim. At the same time, it was also an attitude that clearly drew the line against school violence.


Concerned but distant, Choi Se-kyung was agitated as he checked out the faces in the incinerator. The student who thought it was Song Yi-heon because he was surrounded by Hong Jae-min’s group was a boy he had met at the bookstore during winter break.


His chestnut hair had grown out of his face, but he still looked young. His piercing eyes made him the boy he wanted to touch.


It was the second time. Choi Se-kyung mistakenly mistaken Song Yi-heon.


“You guys, what’s going on? Who said you’d start a fight at school?”


The slender female teacher puffs out her chest and shouts, but there was no threat. The cowering kids reluctantly stood up and brushed their asses. Only Kim Duk-pal removed his hands from his pants pockets and bowed politely.


“Mr. Kim is here.”


“You crazy bastard.”


Hong Jae-min put his index finger on his temple and twisted it around. He glanced away, the wound throbbing from the blow.


They weren’t afraid of him because he was an excellent fighter; he’d been beaten one-sidedly, of course, but that wasn’t what truly frightened them. Song Yi-heon’s ability to maintain the intensity of his fists even after his skin was ripped open, exposing his bare flesh, could only be described as insane. The Hong Jae Min gang was overwhelmed by the madness of the fighters who didn’t care if they were bleeding or hurting.


The fight itself was weak for someone who was supposed to be the next boss, Kim Deuk-pal. However, it broke stereotypes among teenagers. Whatever happened over the winter break, this is not the same Song Yi-heon. He’s changed.



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