The world has always operated on a silent, brutal hierarchy, and at Seoul University, that
hierarchy was absolute. At the very top sat the beautiful, the wealthy, and the athletic. At the
very bottom, buried under the disdain and mockery of everyone else, was Park Ji-Hoon.
Ji-Hoon was a giant, but not the kind that inspired awe. Standing at an imposing six-foot-four,
his frame was massive, heavy, and awkward. In a society obsessed with sharp jawlines and slim,
tailored clothes, Ji-Hoon’s severe overweight build made him stick out like a sore thumb. His
college uniform always felt a little too tight, his thick glasses constantly slipped down the bridge
of his nose, and no matter how hard he tried to shrink into the background, his towering height
made him an unavoidable target. To the cruel eyes of his peers, he wasn’t just unattractive; he
was a monster. They called him the "Campus Pig," a towering eyesore that ruined the aesthetic
of their perfect college lives.
But hidden beneath that massive, clumsy exterior was a brilliant mind and a painfully pure
heart. Ji-Hoon was the undisputed number one student in his department. His intellect was
staggering, his notes meticulous, and his work ethic unmatched. Yet, his brilliance only made
him a different kind of target. He was relentlessly exploited. Every morning, like clockwork, the
varsity athletes—the very guys who mocked his weight in the locker rooms—would corner him
in the hallways. They would snatch his perfectly completed assignments, slap him on the back
with just enough force to hurt, and sneer, "Thanks, Pig. Make sure tomorrow's essay is at least
ten pages, yeah?"
And Ji-Hoon? He just nodded. He never raised his fists, though his massive hands could easily
have caused damage. He never reported them to the professors. He endured the physical
shoves, the cruel whispers when he walked into the cafeteria, and the isolated lunches in the
library. He endured it all because he held onto a dangerously naive belief: he believed that
humanity was inherently good. He thought that if he just kept his head down, if he was
unendingly kind, helpful, and honest, people would eventually look past his heavy frame and
see the person he truly was inside.
He was wrong. But there was one reason he clung to that hope. One beautiful, shining reason
named Min-Ah.
Min-Ah was the undisputed goddess of the campus. She had long, flawless dark hair, skin like
porcelain, and a smile that made the most arrogant seniors stutter. She was completely out of
Ji-Hoon’s league—a creature of sunlight while he lived in the shadows. But six months ago, on a
rainy Tuesday, she had dropped her towering stack of textbooks in a flooded hallway. While the
other students laughed or walked past, Ji-Hoon had immediately dropped to his knees in the
puddles, using his own jacket to wipe the mud off her notes. When he nervously handed them
back, expecting a look of disgust, she hadn't sneered. Instead, she had looked up at his massive,
blushing face and offered him a sweet, perfect, angelic smile. "Thank you, Ji-Hoon," she had
whispered.
She remembered his name.
That single, polite smile sealed Ji-Hoon’s fate. For a boy who had been starved of basic human
decency his entire life, that tiny crumb of kindness felt like absolute salvation. He fell in love. It
wasn’t a lustful, greedy love; it was pure, desperate adoration. He wanted to protect that smile.
For six grueling months, Ji-Hoon took on extra tutoring jobs, working late into the night until his
eyes bled, skipping meals to save every single coin he could. He endured the worst beatings
from the bullies, thinking only of her. Finally, he had saved enough to buy a delicate, silver
necklace with a tiny diamond pendant. It cost him everything he had.
Today was the day he was going to give it to her.
The campus courtyard was packed with hundreds of students soaking in the afternoon sun. The
chatter was deafening. Ji-Hoon stood at the edge of the square, his massive frame trembling
uncontrollably. He had dressed in his best shirt, though it still clung awkwardly to his heavy
stomach. His palms were slick with sweat as he clutched the small velvet box in his pocket.
Across the courtyard, standing by the fountain, was Min-Ah, surrounded by her usual entourage
of popular friends.
Just do it, Ji-Hoon told himself, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. She saw
you. She knows you have a good heart. Just tell her.
Taking a deep breath, the giant boy stepped into the sunlight. As he made his way across the
courtyard, the chatter slowly died down. Heads turned. People pointed. The sight of the
"Campus Pig" marching toward the campus goddess was too bizarre to ignore. Whispers broke
out like a virus, but Ji-Hoon tuned them out. His eyes were locked only on Min-Ah.
He stopped three feet in front of her. Her friends immediately recoiled, pulling their designer
bags closer to them as if his sheer presence was infectious. Min-Ah looked at him, her perfect
eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
"Min-Ah," Ji-Hoon stammered, his deep voice shaking so badly he could barely get the words
out. "I... I know I'm not much to look at. I know I'm different. But ever since that day in the
hallway, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You are the kindest, most beautiful
person I have ever met."
Phones began to slip out of pockets. The crowd was completely silent now, hundreds of
students watching with bated breath.
Ji-Hoon pulled his trembling hand from his pocket and opened the velvet box. The silver
diamond necklace caught the sunlight beautifully. "I... I bought this for you. I love you, Min-Ah.
Will you please accept my feelings?"
For three agonizing seconds, there was dead silence. Ji-Hoon looked into her eyes, desperately
searching for the kind, angelic girl from the hallway.
Instead, he watched her face twist. The beautiful, polite mask melted away, revealing
something intensely ugly. Her lips curled into a sneer of pure, unfiltered disgust. She looked at
the necklace, then looked at his heavy, sweating face, and let out a sharp, mocking scoff.
"Are you out of your mind?" Min-Ah's voice rang out, intentionally loud, engineered to echo
across the entire courtyard.
Ji-Hoon flinched. "M-Min-Ah?"
"Don't say my name with your fat mouth," she spat, stepping forward and violently slapping the
velvet box out of his massive hands. The box hit the concrete, the delicate silver necklace
spilling out into the dirt.
"Look at yourself!" she screamed, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at his chest. "You really
thought someone like me would ever look twice at a disgusting, giant pig like you? You are
pathetic. You smell, you're hideous, and you make me sick just breathing the same air. That
smile I gave you? I felt sorry for you because you looked pathetic crawling in the mud. How
dare you think you had a chance with me!"
The first laugh erupted from her friends. It was a sharp, mocking sound. Then, a guy in the
crowd started laughing. Within seconds, the entire courtyard exploded. Hundreds of students
erupted into manic, hysterical laughter. It was a deafening roar of cruelty. Camera flashes
blinded Ji-Hoon as people filmed him standing there, a towering, overweight giant, completely
shattered.
The deafening roar of laughter echoed across the courtyard, pressing against Ji-Hoon’s ears like
physical weights. He stood frozen, a towering giant rendered utterly small, staring down at the
crushed silver necklace in the dirt. His heart, which had spent his entire life trying to pump
warmth and kindness into a freezing world, cracked down the middle. But for Min-Ah, rejecting
him wasn’t enough. The campus goddess didn't just want to embarrass the "Campus Pig"—she
wanted to make an example out of him. She wanted him destroyed so completely that he
would never dare look at her again.
Min-Ah’s cold eyes flicked over Ji-Hoon’s trembling shoulder, landing on a group of towering,
athletic upperclassmen pushing their way to the front of the crowd. It was the varsity athletes.
The exact same bullies Ji-Hoon had spent the entire semester tutoring, the ones who had
forced him to write their essays just the night before. The leader, a broad-shouldered striker
named Kang-Dae, stepped forward, cracking his knuckles with a malicious, hungry grin. Min-Ah
gave him a single, deliberate nod.
"Hey, Pig," Kang-Dae’s voice cut through the laughter, dripping with venom. "Did you really
think you had the right to speak to her? You made Min-Ah uncomfortable. Now we have to
teach you your place."
Before Ji-Hoon could even raise his heavy arms to defend himself, Kang-Dae pivoted on his heel
and delivered a brutal, merciless punch squarely to Ji-Hoon’s jaw. The sheer force of the blow
sent the massive boy crashing to the concrete. His thick glasses flew from his face, shattering
against the ground, the jagged lenses scraping across his cheek and drawing a thin line of blood.
He didn't fight back. He had the size, he had the weight, but his spirit was so thoroughly broken
that his muscles refused to move. He simply curled into a ball on the ground as the pack of
bullies descended upon him. Heavy boots slammed into his ribs, his stomach, his back. Each kick
drove the breath from his lungs in a ragged gasp.
"Look at him! He’s so fat he bounces!" one of the athletes yelled, drawing another wave of
hysterical laughter from the onlookers.
Then came the ultimate degradation. Kang-Dae reached down, grabbing the collar of Ji-Hoon’s
tightly fitting button-up shirt. With a violent, tearing yank, the fabric ripped straight down the
middle. Buttons popped and scattered across the concrete. The bullies tore the fabric away,
violently exposing his heavy, overweight torso to the harsh afternoon sun.
The crowd went feral. The mockery reached a fever pitch, a sickening symphony of jeers,
whistles, and the constant, blinding flashes of smartphone cameras recording every agonizing
second of his humiliation. Ji-Hoon lay there, his cheek pressed against the rough, dirty concrete,
gasping for air. Through the forest of kicking legs, his blurred, unshielded eyes found Min-Ah.
She was standing a few feet away, her arms crossed, smiling as she watched him bleed.
He slowly shifted his gaze to the hundreds of students surrounding him. Not a single person
stepped forward. Not a single voice yelled for the athletes to stop. They were all complicit. They
were all enjoying the slaughter of his dignity.
And in that exact moment, as the dirt mixed with the blood on his face, something inside Park
Ji-Hoon died. The naive, gentle boy who believed that hard work and kindness would eventually
be rewarded took his final breath on that courtyard floor. The warm light of hope in his eyes
flickered, dimmed, and was suddenly extinguished, replaced by a cold, dark abyss. The world
didn't want a kind heart. It wanted a monster. And as he lay there, stripped of his clothes, his
pride, and his humanity, a chilling, absolute resolve settled into his bones: he would become
exactly the terrifying monster this cruel world treated him as.
Hours passed. The crowd had long dispersed, leaving him discarded like trash. Evening fell over
Seoul, bringing with it a biting, freezing wind. Ji-Hoon dragged his battered, massive frame
through the neon-lit streets. His clothes hung off him in bloody, shredded rags. Pedestrians
actively crossed the street to avoid him, their eyes darting away in disgust rather than offering
help. Every step sent a jolt of agonizing pain through his fractured ribs, but the physical pain
was nothing compared to the suffocating despair crushing his chest.
He didn't walk home. He couldn't. There was nothing left for him to go back to.
Instead, his heavy footsteps led him up the pedestrian path of the city’s highest suspension
bridge. The wind howled off the Han River, biting into his exposed skin. Below him, the black
water churned, looking endlessly deep and mercifully quiet. Ji-Hoon gripped the icy steel railing
with his bruised, massive hands. He hauled his heavy body up, swinging one leg over, then the
other. He stood on the narrow ledge, his toes hanging off the edge, staring down into the
freezing void.
He closed his eyes. The manic laughter of the courtyard echoed in his ears. Min-Ah's disgusted
face. The tearing of his clothes. The absolute worthlessness of his own existence. A single, hot
tear escaped his closed eyes, cutting through the dried blood on his cheek.
It ends here, he thought.
He leaned his heavy frame forward, surrendering to gravity, ready to let the black water
swallow him whole.
But just as his weight tipped past the point of no return, a hand the size of a catcher's mitt
slammed onto his shoulder. The grip was like an industrial vice, possessing an inhuman,
terrifying strength. Before Ji-Hoon could even gasp, he was violently yanked backward through
the air. His massive body hit the concrete walkway of the bridge with a bone-rattling thud.
Dazed, confused, and gasping for air, Ji-Hoon barely had time to open his eyes before a shadow
eclipsed the streetlights above him.
SMACK.
A resounding, brutal slap struck his bruised face, hitting him with such terrifying, explosive force
that his vision swam with stars. A distinct, angry red handprint instantly bloomed across his
cheek. The sheer power behind the strike was monstrous.
Ji-Hoon clutched his face, trembling, and looked up into the darkness.
Standing above him was a man who looked less like a human and more like a force of nature. It
was an old man, but his frame was impossibly huge, mirroring Ji-Hoon's own towering height,
yet packed with dense, terrifying muscle. He radiated an aura so intensely dark, heavy, and
suffocating that the howling wind around them seemed to instantly die down in submission. His
eyes were like chips of black obsidian—cold, calculative, and completely devoid of warmth.
This was Kwon Tae-San. A name whispered only in the deepest, bloodiest corners of the
underworld. An absolute legend, a ruthless killing machine whose mere presence had once
made entire crime syndicates fall to their knees in terror.
The giant elder glared down at the trembling, broken boy curled on the concrete. When he
spoke, his voice was a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated in Ji-Hoon's chest.
"Stop being a pathetic coward," Tae-San growled, his eyes piercing straight through Ji-Hoon's
soul. "You want to die because the world chewed you up? You think you're the only one?"
The old master stepped closer, his towering shadow swallowing Ji-Hoon completely. "I was
once exactly like you. Big. Ugly. Discarded."
Tae-San didn't offer a hand to help him up. He simply looked down with cold absolute
authority. "From this exact moment forward, you are my student. You will forget your past. You
will forget your pathetic tears. You will report to my dojo at the edge of the city every single
day."
Ji-Hoon stared up, completely paralyzed by the sheer, crushing pressure of the old man's aura.
"I don't want your money," Tae-San continued, his tone leaving zero room for argument. "I only
accept one disciple every three years. And I do not take another until the first one is completely
forged into an unbreakable weapon. Do you understand me, boy?"
Ji-Hoon remained on the ground, staring up in absolute shock at the monstrous, legendary old
master who had just violently dragged him back from the edge of oblivion. The cold, dark abyss
inside Ji-Hoon's shattered heart suddenly found a spark. It wasn't hope. It was something far
more dangerous.
The very next day, Park Ji-Hoon vanished from the world. He didn't submit withdrawal papers
to the university; he simply never showed up again. Min-Ah and the bullies didn't notice, and if
they did, they only celebrated the disappearance of the "Campus Pig." They had no idea that
their cruelty hadn't destroyed him—it had simply placed him inside a demonic crucible. Ji-
Hoon’s new reality began in a brutal, hidden dojo located in an abandoned, cavernous
warehouse on the grim outskirts of Seoul. But this subterranean hell was only meant to last for
one grueling month—thirty days in absolute darkness designed solely to break his mind, shatter
his past, and violently strip away the pathetic, weeping boy he used to be. For that first month,
he didn't see the sun, and his life was reduced to blood, sweat, and the merciless roar of Kwon
Tae-San. The old master broke Ji-Hoon down to his very atoms, forcing him to strike solid iron
sandbags until the skin on his knuckles tore away to the bone, only to pour stinging medicinal
alcohol over the open wounds and demand he strike again. When Ji-Hoon collapsed, gasping
for air, the master would strike him with a dense bamboo cane. "Pain is a liar!" Tae-San’s voice
echoed through the damp warehouse. "Your body wants to quit, your mind wants to weep! Kill
the coward, or die on this floor!"
But as the thirtieth day broke, Tae-San dragged the battered, bleeding boy out of the dark
warehouse and into the blinding, scorching summer sunlight. The old master forcefully grabbed
Ji-Hoon by the shoulders, shoving him toward a tall, cracked mirror leaning against a brick wall,
forcing the boy to look at his own massive, heaving frame. "You let those pathetic insects
convince you that you were just some fat, ugly pig," Tae-San growled, his dark eyes flashing
with intense, terrifying pride. "Look at your frame! You are six foot five! Your bones are as thick
as steel girders. You aren't just large, boy—beneath that pathetic, soft weight is the body of a
warlord, a natural-born titan, and you were too blinded by their insults to realize your own
monstrous strength!"
To unlock this terrifying physical potential, the old master brought out the real training gear. He
clamped heavy, custom-forged iron bracelets around Ji-Hoon’s wrists and strapped thick, lead-
lined weights tightly around his ankles, finally tossing him a military-grade canvas backpack
loaded with eighty pounds of solid steel plates. "You do not take these off," Tae-San
commanded, his voice devoid of pity. "Not when you eat. Not when you sleep. Not when you
bleed. They are your new skin." Burdened by the crushing, inescapable extra weight, Ji-Hoon
was forced to train for fourteen agonizing hours a day under the merciless, blistering heat of
the sun. He dragged massive, rusted tractor tires up steep, jagged dirt trails, the intense heat
baking his skin while his heavy, awkward fat rapidly began to melt away, revealing the dense,
terrifying slabs of muscle hiding beneath.
When the seasons shifted, the old master offered no mercy; instead, Tae-San dragged his
student away from the city entirely, deep into the unforgiving, isolated peaks of the northern
snow mountains. Stripped down to his waist in the middle of sub-zero blizzards, still bearing the
crushing iron weights on his limbs and back, Ji-Hoon was forced to throw tens of thousands of
punches into the freezing, howling winds. His sweat instantly turned to frost on his hardening
skin, his breath pluming like dragon's smoke in the freezing air. He stood under freezing, glacial
waterfalls, letting the crushing, icy torrents pound against his massive shoulders until his body
went entirely numb. He endured the absolute extremes of agonizing heat and lethal cold,
forging his muscles into impenetrable armor and freezing whatever fragile warmth was left in
his shattered heart. And yet, even after these fourteen hours of daily, environment-defying
torture, the newly awakened titan didn't sleep. Dragging his bruised, freezing body to the
corner of their remote mountain cabin, he would crack open his battered secondhand laptop.
With eyes as cold and sharp as the mountain ice, his towering genius intellect seized control of
the global financial markets, ruthlessly day-trading, manipulating overseas assets, and coding
flawless algorithmic bots to amass a staggering, hidden empire of wealth while the blizzards
howled violently outside.
Even during that first grueling month in the pitch-black underground dojo, while his massive
body was being violently broken and rebuilt by the old master, Ji-Hoon’s towering genius
intellect refused to rest. Dragging his bruised, bleeding body to a tiny, damp corner of the
warehouse after fourteen hours of hellish torture, he would crack open his battered, run-down
laptop with a flickering screen, his bloodied fingers flying across the cracked keyboard. The very
same undisputed Rank #1 brain that his college bullies had ruthlessly exploited to pass their
exams now began to dissect the global financial markets with the cold, calculative precision of a
machine. He didn't just study the stock market; he completely deconstructed it, using his
unparalleled analytical skills to spot hidden algorithmic patterns, predict overseas asset crashes,
and execute high-frequency trades that seasoned Wall Street brokers couldn't even
comprehend. Starting with the pathetic handful of coins he had once desperately saved for
Min-Ah's necklace, he ruthlessly compounded his wealth night after agonizing night, silently
amassing a massive, untouchable offshore fortune while his physical body underwent an
equally miraculous resurrection. As the brutal months bled into one another, moving from the
scorching dirt trails to the freezing northern peaks, the crushing iron weights and Tae-San’s
merciless beatings finally forged his 6'5" frame into impenetrable armor, triggering a terrifyingly
beautiful physical transformation. The heavy, clumsy layers of overweight fat melted away
completely, leaving behind a dangerously lean, V-tapered physique packed with dense,
explosive muscle that moved with the lethal grace of an apex predator. When his battered face
finally healed, the constant swelling and bruises fading away, the mirror revealed a complete
stranger; the awkward, ugly giant was gone, replaced by a breathtakingly sharp jawline, striking
aristocratic cheekbones, and piercing, obsidian eyes that radiated a freezing, absolute zero
aura. He had become impossibly, dangerously handsome—a towering, badass figure radiating a
cold, dark majesty that would make anyone's blood freeze in awe. By the time his hellish
training under Tae-San reached its absolute peak, the pathetic, weeping boy was entirely
erased, leaving behind a gorgeous, terrifyingly powerful billionaire warlord who controlled a
vast, invisible financial empire from the shadows and possessed the physical strength to crush a
man's skull with a single hand.
Throughout this hellish crucible, Kwon Tae-San made one thing absolutely clear to his massive
student: he utterly despised traditional, performative martial arts. The legendary underworld
master didn't believe in flashy moves, high-flying acrobatic kicks, or the useless, choreographed
garbage taught in modern sports arenas; to a man who had survived the bloodiest syndicates in
the world, every wasted movement was simply an invitation to die. Instead, he ruthlessly drilled
Ji-Hoon in the dark, forgotten arts of absolute lethality, forcing him to practice only killing
strikes and deadly, fight-ending techniques day after agonizing day. For fourteen hours straight,
underneath the crushing weight of his iron bracelets and the blistering sun, Ji-Hoon was
repeatedly beaten until he perfected the exact biomechanics of murder—how to shatter a
collarbone with a single palm thrust, how to crush a windpipe in a fraction of a second, and
how to snap joints with terrifying, mechanical efficiency. Tae-San taught the giant boy that true
combat wasn't a game to be won on points, but a brutal, instantaneous execution designed to
permanently erase an opponent. Ji-Hoon’s newly forged, towering 6'5" frame and
overwhelming physical strength made him the perfect vessel for these murderous techniques.
As his muscles grew dense and lean, and his breathtakingly handsome, cold features set like
carved marble, his relentless daily drills transformed him from a bullied victim into a precise,
shadow-stepping executioner. He absorbed his master’s freezing-cold philosophy until his very
instincts were permanently wired for maximum destruction, perfectly complementing the vast,
invisible financial empire he was building on his laptop every night, and ensuring that when the
time finally came to face his tormentors, he wouldn't just defeat them—he would completely
and utterly dismantle them. The heavy oak door to the principal's office didn't just open; it was
pushed aside with the quiet, terrifying force of a man who practically owned the building,
causing Principal Choi—a usually arrogant and untouchable administrator—to immediately
shoot up from his plush leather chair, his face slick with nervous sweat as he bowed so deeply
his forehead nearly touched his mahogany desk. The principal knew exactly who this towering,
6'5" god of war was; for the past five months, this freezing, merciless billionaire had been the
sole anonymous benefactor keeping the university's bloated budget afloat with massive,
untraceable offshore funds. Sucking up to the young titan with trembling, pathetic desperation,
the principal eagerly listened as Ji-Hoon, his voice a low, gravelly rumble devoid of any human
warmth, commanded that he be formally enrolled back into the university under a new,
untraceable alias. Because Ji-Hoon's towering genius intellect had allowed him to flawlessly ace
the university's remote final exams from the dark shadows of his master's dojo, seamlessly
bypassing the attendance requirements while he built his financial empire, sliding him right
back into the exact same senior class as Min-Ah and the varsity athletes was effortlessly
arranged with a single, terrified nod from the principal. With his trap perfectly set, the newly
christened transfer student turned his broad, perfectly tailored shoulders and exited the
administrative building, only to find his path suddenly blocked near the outer courtyard by a
group of arrogant varsity athletes—the very same lackeys who used to ruthlessly tear his
clothes and mock him. However, without their leader present to hide behind, and standing at a
completely average five-foot-ten, these bullies now looked like fragile little children staring up
at a massive, 6'5" natural disaster. Accustomed to ruling the campus through numbers, one of
the lackeys puffed out his chest to dare and challenge the stylish, unfamiliar newcomer who
had stolen the entire school's attention, but before a single word of mockery could leave his
throat, Ji-Hoon simply stopped and slowly shifted his piercing, obsidian hunter eyes downward
toward them. It wasn't just a glare; it was the suffocating, lethal gaze of Kwon Tae-San's
masterpiece, radiating such an overwhelming, murderous aura of absolute zero violence that
the air in the bullies' lungs completely evaporated. Their arrogant sneers instantly dissolved
into sheer, primal terror as their legs began to violently tremble, their bodies completely
paralyzed by survival instincts and unable to utter a single syllable under the crushing pressure
of a true apex predator. They could only stand there gasping, violently shivering in the sunlight,
as the breathtakingly handsome billionaire simply looked away in absolute disgust, his polished
designer shoes clicking rhythmically against the pavement as he calmly returned to his sleek,
pitch-black luxury car and drove off, leaving the utterly broken, sweating bullies standing in the
dust of the terrifying monster they had unknowingly created. Settling into the suffocating quiet
of his pitch-black luxury car as it pulled away from the university gates after his meeting with
the principal, Ji-Hoon stared through the heavily tinted windows at the sprawling campus, a
chilling smirk crossing his sharp features as he murmured to himself in a low, gravelly whisper,
"Finally... the day is near." The very next morning, the deafening, aggressive roar of a massive,
matte-black sports bike shattered the usual chatter of the student parking lot as he killed the
engine and swung his towering, 6'5" frame off the machine. He had ditched the formal attire;
instead, he was dressed in effortlessly cool, badass casual clothes—a fitted dark jacket over a
sleek black turtleneck that perfectly highlighted his dangerously lean, V-tapered physique and
broad, muscular shoulders. Hidden beneath the cuffs of his dark, tactical cargo pants were
thick, heavy iron-weighted boots, a silent reminder that his hellish training under Kwon Tae-San
was far from over and that he was still actively executing deadly underground missions for his
master in the shadows. When his heavy, weighted footsteps echoed down the hallway and he
finally pushed open the wooden door to the senior classroom, the loud morning chaos instantly
died, replaced by a heavy, breathless vacuum as if all the oxygen had been violently sucked
from the room. His sheer physical presence and freezing, immeasurable aura instantly brought
the entire class to its knees; every single girl froze in absolute awe, their faces flushing crimson
at the sight of his striking, lethal features, while the guys nervously shrank down in their seats,
their primal instincts screaming in submission at the apex predator invading their territory.
Sitting in the center row, the campus goddess Min-Ah was completely dumbfounded; as the
devastatingly handsome newcomer slowly swept the room and locked his sleek, obsidian
hunter eyes directly onto hers, a deep, immediate blush crept up her porcelain neck, her
arrogant heart skipping a beat as she remained blissfully oblivious to the fact that this cold,
majestic titan was the very same boy she had once destroyed. Even the homeroom teacher
found himself drenched in a cold, nervous sweat under the crushing weight of the transfer
student's dominating presence, stammering pathetically as the giant introduced himself as
Baek Do-Jin—a completely untraceable, brand-new alias—in a deep, gravelly tone that
demanded absolute respect. When the trembling instructor nervously asked where he would
like to sit, Do-Jin’s cold gaze bypassed the eager, desperate faces of the popular students and
locked onto a solitary, empty desk at the very back of the room. As his weighted iron boots
clicked with a heavy, commanding rhythm down the aisle, parting the sea of desperate
whispers, Do-Jin slid his massive frame into the seat, only then noticing the solitary figure right
beside him. Unlike every other person in the room vying for his attention, this small, timid girl
didn't even dare to look up; her shoulders were hunched, her trembling hands clutching a
battered notebook, bearing the unmistakable, tragic physical markers of someone relentlessly
bullied and beaten down by the school's cruel hierarchy. And while this broken, nervous girl
tried to make herself invisible beside the freezing giant, up at the front of the class, Min-Ah
couldn't stop herself from constantly shifting in her seat, obsessively throwing desperate,
hungry glances over her shoulder to see exactly what the gorgeous new student, Baek Do-Jin,
was doing, completely unaware that the terrifying trap around her neck had just snapped shut.
Standing quietly in the shadows of the hallway, Do-Jin watched the pathetic, heartbreaking
scene unfold in the canteen, his freezing aura growing darker by the second as he looked at the
trembling girl on the floor. The cruelty didn't just end with a spilled tray. As Yoo-Jin frantically
dropped to her knees to clean up the mess with shaking hands, one of the arrogant boys
maliciously slammed his heavy sneaker right onto her small fingers, making her cry out in pain.
The entire cafeteria erupted into louder, crueler laughter as a group of mean girls walked up
and deliberately dumped their sticky, half-empty soda cups directly over her head, ruining her
cheap, oversized clothes and leaving her completely humiliated on the dirty floor. Not a single
person in the massive crowd stepped forward to help; they only raised their phones to record
her misery. When the lunch break finally ended and the students filed back into the classroom,
the torment only continued. Even the teachers, who clearly saw the soaking wet and shivering
girl walking down the halls, completely ignored her suffering and looked the other way, proving
that the corrupt adults in this college still protected the rich bullies, exactly like they had
ignored Ji-Hoon’s bloody beatings in the past. The timid girl returned to her seat keeping her
head completely down, while the class threw crumpled papers at her back, loudly calling her a
disgusting loser and finally revealing her full name, Song Yoo-Jin, to the entire room.
Throughout the entire afternoon, the campus goddess Min-Ah desperately tried to find a single
opening to talk to the breathtakingly handsome new transfer student. She flipped her perfect
hair and tried to flash her sweetest, most angelic smile, but every time she even thought about
stepping near his desk, Baek Do-Jin’s freezing, dominating presence hit her like a solid brick
wall. His aura was so heavy and terrifyingly cold that her throat instantly dried up and her legs
completely refused to move, leaving her bruised, frustrated, and totally ignored. Needing to
take out her toxic anger and damaged ego on someone, Min-Ah locked her cruel eyes on the
easiest target in the room. As soon as the final college bell rang and the halls began to empty,
Min-Ah aggressively signaled her loyal dogs; a group of cruel guys and mean girls immediately
surrounded the trembling Yoo-Jin, forcefully grabbing her by the arms and dragging her up the
concrete stairs toward the isolated college rooftop. Sitting quietly at his desk, Do-Jin’s sharp
obsidian eyes noticed the entire thing, and moving like a silent, lethal shadow despite the heavy
iron weights hidden inside his boots, the towering giant quietly followed them. When he
stepped into the dark shadows of the rooftop doorway, he didn't intervene; he just stood there
like a cold, calculating statue, silently observing the brutal reality of this corrupted school. In
the center of the roof, Yoo-Jin was forced onto her knees on the hard, dirty concrete. An
arrogant boy grabbed a handful of her messy wet hair, violently pulling her head back while
Min-Ah stepped forward, her face twisted with ugly jealousy, and delivered a vicious, stinging
slap across Yoo-Jin's pale cheek. The bullies ruthlessly kicked her in the stomach, completely
shattering her oversized glasses and laughing wildly as they tore her cheap jacket apart,
mocking her while dumping all her neat, hard-earned notes into the wind. Watching the
helpless girl bleed and cry on the dirty floor while the massive crowd of bullies laughed
maniacally at her pain, Do-Jin saw his own execution from a year ago playing out all over again.
But then, something finally snapped inside the broken girl. Completely shattered, sobbing
uncontrollably, and entirely drained of every last drop of hope in humanity, Yoo-Jin suddenly
pushed herself off the bloody concrete. Ignoring the painful kicks and the cruel insults, she
wildly stumbled away from the group and ran straight toward the edge of the high rooftop,
climbing onto the dangerous concrete ledge to jump and end her miserable life once and for all.
But behind her, instead of stopping her, Min-Ah and the cruel bullies just pointed and laughed
even harder, maniacally cheering for her to do it, while the towering, freezing monster named
Baek Do-Jin simply watched from the dark abyss of the doorway.
As the sick, twisted cheers of the bullies echoed across the rooftop, urging the broken girl to
jump, the cold, calculating restraint inside Baek Do-Jin finally shattered. Watching Yoo-Jin lean
forward over the deadly drop, he didn't hesitate for another second. Reaching down to his
ankles, he quickly unclasped the massive, 100-kilogram iron training weights hidden beneath
his pants and let them drop. The heavy metal slammed into the rooftop with a deafening,
explosive crash that actually cracked the solid concrete, making the entire crowd jump and spin
around in pure terror. Freed from his crushing burden, Do-Jin didn't just run; he exploded
forward like a flying phantom, crossing the massive rooftop faster than the human eye could
even track. Just as gravity began to pull Yoo-Jin down into the empty void, a massive, muscular
arm wrapped securely around her waist. With a gentle but unstoppable force, Do-Jin pulled her
back from the edge and instantly tucked her fragile, shivering body against his broad, warm
chest. "You don't get to die for their sins," he whispered, his deep, gravelly voice vibrating with
a protective warmth that she had never heard from anyone before. "You have suffered enough.
From now on, you don't ever have to be afraid." Looking up into his striking, handsome face
and feeling genuinely safe for the very first time in her miserable life, Yoo-Jin completely broke
down, her beautiful blue eyes overflowing with heavy tears as she buried her face in his shirt
and sobbed freely. Without a word, Do-Jin took off his sleek, dark designer jacket and carefully
wrapped it around her torn, ruined clothes, completely shielding her dignity from the cruel
crowd. Standing a few feet away, Min-Ah was completely dumbfounded, aggressively biting her
perfectly manicured nails to the quick in a fit of ugly, toxic jealousy; her mind was going crazy
wondering why this breathtaking billionaire god was holding the school's trash instead of
looking at her. Desperate to keep up her fake angelic image and terrified that Do-Jin might hate
her if she yelled like a crazy person, Min-Ah didn't scream. Instead, she just silently, angrily
pointed her finger at her loyal guy friends, demanding they do something. Three arrogant
varsity boys exchanged nervous looks, completely terrified of the giant's freezing aura, but
under Min-Ah's intense pressure, they hesitantly stepped forward with their fists raised. Gently
pushing Yoo-Jin behind him, Do-Jin didn't even change his freezing, bored expression. What
followed wasn't a fight; it was a breathtaking, terrifying piece of martial art. Moving with
smooth, god-like grace, Do-Jin effortlessly dodged the first hesitant punch, delivering a quick,
heavy palm strike to the chest that sent the first boy flying backward with a loud crunch of
broken ribs. Without missing a single beat, he caught the second boy's arm, twisting it sharply
until a sickening pop echoed across the roof, before casually grabbing the third boy by his shirt
and hurling his heavy body across the hard concrete like a simple ragdoll. He had completely
dismantled three guys in less than three seconds without even breaking a sweat, holding back
just enough so he didn't kill them. The entire rooftop fell into a dead, suffocating silence. The
remaining bullies were totally paralyzed, shaking in absolute horror as they stared at the
gorgeous, cold-blooded monster who had just effortlessly destroyed them. Knowing that not a
single person would ever dare to step in his way again, Do-Jin gently placed a warm hand on
Yoo-Jin's trembling shoulder, completely ignoring Min-Ah's furious, jealous glare as he calmly
guided the crying girl down the stairs, taking her safely out of the hellish college while the
bullies were left shivering in his terrifying shadow.
After walking the trembling girl out of the hellish college gates, Do-Jin gently helped Yoo-Jin
onto the back of his massive, matte-black sports bike, making sure she was tightly wrapped in
his warm designer jacket before speeding away from the toxic campus. He didn't take her home
to her miserable reality just yet; instead, the towering billionaire drove them to a quiet,
incredibly expensive private restaurant hidden in the wealthy district of Seoul. Sitting in a
secluded VIP booth, Do-Jin ordered a table full of warm, comforting food and patiently waited
for her tears to finally stop. As Yoo-Jin slowly ate, still shaking slightly from the trauma, Do-Jin
looked at her with his deep, obsidian eyes and spoke in a soft, gravelly voice that carried no
pity, only absolute certainty. "You are done hiding from them," he told her gently, his words
making her heart skip a beat. "Starting today, you will walk with your head up, and I will crush
anyone who tries to push it back down." After she finished eating and finally managed a small,
genuine smile, Do-Jin paid the massive bill without a second thought and guided her to an
exclusive luxury clothing boutique. Ignoring the shocked looks of the high-end staff, he used his
limitless black card to buy her a completely new wardrobe, replacing her torn, cheap clothes
with elegant, beautifully fitted outfits that finally matched her gentle grace. But he wasn't
finished. Taking her to a premium eye clinic, Do-Jin gently took the shattered, oversized glasses
from her hands and threw them in the trash, buying her the most comfortable, high-quality
contact lenses money could buy, completely exposing her large, breathtakingly beautiful blue
eyes to the world. For the final step, he drove her to the most famous VIP salon in the city. He
sat quietly in the waiting area while top professional stylists carefully washed, treated, and cut
her messy, tangled hair, styling it to frame her pure, angelic face perfectly. When Yoo-Jin finally
stepped out of the dressing room an hour later, the entire salon went dead silent in absolute
awe. Without the baggy clothes, messy hair, and ugly glasses hiding her away, Song Yoo-Jin
looked like a true, untouchable goddess—a natural, radiant beauty that made the arrogant
Min-Ah look like cheap, fake plastic. Standing up, Do-Jin looked down at the gorgeous girl
blushing nervously in front of him, a tiny, rare smirk appearing on his striking, handsome face as
he realized his beautiful new desk mate was about to completely destroy the corrupt college
hierarchy tomorrow just by walking through the front door. As the evening sun began to set
over the glittering city, casting a warm golden light over Yoo-Jin's breathtaking new
appearance, Do-Jin led her out of the luxury salon and walked her toward his massive sports
bike. Stopping by the curb, he looked down at her with his sleek, obsidian eyes and asked in his
deep, gravelly voice where he should drop her off. The pure, gentle smile on Yoo-Jin's face
instantly faltered, and she nervously looked down at the pavement, quietly admitting that she
didn't have a real home. With a trembling voice, she revealed that she was a complete orphan
who bounced between overcrowded shelter homes and exhausted herself working grueling,
late-night part-time jobs just to afford her college tuition and daily meals. Hearing this, the cold,
calculating billionaire felt a familiar, heavy ache in his chest; he knew exactly what it felt like to
be completely alone, poor, and abandoned by the world. Without hesitating, Do-Jin calmly
made a life-changing offer: he briefly mentioned a highly secretive, incredibly wealthy private
company he managed from the shadows, and offered her a high-paying position as his personal
secretary, complete with a safe, high-end apartment in the city center where no one could ever
hurt her again. Overwhelmed by the sheer scale of his kindness, Yoo-Jin’s beautiful blue eyes
widened in pure shock, and she frantically waved her hands, politely trying to decline and
crying that the handsome giant had already spent way too much money and time on a useless
girl like her. But Do-Jin simply stepped closer, his towering 6'5" frame casting a warm,
protective shadow over her, and stopped her protests with a soft, reassuring gaze. "I don't do
charity, Yoo-Jin," he lied smoothly, a tiny, comforting smirk appearing on his sharp, handsome
face. "Consider this a strict business investment. You can pay me back for the clothes and the
rent using your new salary, but from now on, you work for me, and you live under my
protection." Left completely speechless by his overwhelming warmth and flawless logic, tears
of pure gratitude quietly rolled down Yoo-Jin's flawless cheeks as she finally nodded, realizing
that her miserable, lonely life had just been completely saved by this terrifying, gorgeous god of
war. Gemini said
That night, instead of taking her back to the miserable, overcrowded shelter, Do-Jin drove Yoo-
Jin to an exclusive, high-security luxury apartment building right in the center of Seoul. Handing
her the shiny keycard to a beautifully furnished, warm penthouse, the towering billionaire
simply told her to rest and promised to pick her up the next morning, finally giving the broken
girl a night of absolute, peaceful safety where she didn't have to cry herself to sleep. The very
next day, the deafening, aggressive roar of Do-Jin’s matte-black sports bike shattered the
morning chatter of the college parking lot. As he killed the engine and swung his massive, 6'5"
frame off the machine, the entire student body immediately stopped in their tracks, their eyes
locked on the gorgeous, freezing giant. But this time, all the attention quickly shifted to the
passenger sitting behind him. Do-Jin gently reached out and helped the girl take off her heavy
helmet, allowing her perfectly styled, silky hair to gracefully fall down her shoulders. Dressed in
elegant, high-end designer clothes that perfectly highlighted her natural, pure beauty, and with
her breathtaking blue eyes finally shining without those ugly, oversized glasses, she looked like
a completely untouchable celebrity. The entire courtyard went dead silent. The arrogant varsity
boys dropped their bags, totally mesmerized and drooling over this stunning new goddess,
while the popular girls whispered in fierce envy. Standing near the entrance, Min-Ah felt a knot
of pure panic in her stomach, her eyes wide as she desperately wondered who this incredibly
beautiful girl stealing her precious spotlight was. But as Do-Jin placed a warm, protective hand
on the girl's shoulder and walked her toward the main building, the students suddenly noticed
the familiar, gentle way she held her notebooks. A horrifying, unbelievable realization hit the
crowd like a lightning bolt—this radiant, flawless goddess was Song Yoo-Jin, the very same
"loser" they had violently bullied and pushed to the edge of the rooftop just yesterday! The
campus went absolutely crazy with shock. Watching her ultimate punching bag suddenly
become a hundred times prettier and more popular than her, Min-Ah's face violently twisted
into an ugly mask of toxic, boiling jealousy. Her nails dug into her palms until they almost bled.
Realizing that her normal lackeys were completely useless against Do-Jin's god-like strength,
the furious "campus goddess" decided it was time to unleash the real monsters. Pulling out her
phone with violently shaking hands, she sent a desperate message to her older brother and his
two monstrous friends—the three ruthless, bloodthirsty thugs who truly ruled the college from
the shadows, the exact same three seniors who had brutally beaten the "Campus Pig" to a
bloody pulp a year ago. Min-Ah smiled a twisted, evil smile, fully planning to use these
dangerous killers to finally crush the arrogant giant's pride, destroy Yoo-Jin once and for all, and
force the handsome Baek Do-Jin to submit to her will.
As Do-Jin and Yoo-Jin walked deeper into the main hallway, the loud whispers of the shocked
students suddenly died out, replaced by a heavy, suffocating dread. The massive crowd quickly
backed away, pressing themselves against the lockers to make way for three heavily scarred,
dangerous-looking seniors completely blocking the path ahead. These were the true apex
predators of the college who ran underground fighting rings and hospitalized anyone who
looked at them wrong. At the front stood Min-Ah's older brother, the exact same cruel
ringleader who had thrown the first devastating punch at Ji-Hoon that rainy night on the bridge
a year and a half ago. But Min-Ah didn't point fingers or scream orders this time; she stood
quietly in the back of the crowd, playing the perfect, innocent spectator. She secretly wanted
her brother to violently crush this arrogant new student's pride so that later, she could swoop
in like a sweet, comforting angel to "save" Do-Jin and finally tame him. Hearing that some rich
transfer student had broken their underlings' bones on the rooftop yesterday, the leader
cracked his knuckles with a sickening pop and stepped forward with a bloodthirsty grin,
demanding Do-Jin drop to his knees and beg for mercy. But as Do-Jin stared at the three
laughing men, the temperature in the hallway seemed to drop to absolute zero. He didn't see
three tough seniors; he saw the exact same three monsters who had stripped his dignity,
beaten him to a bloody pulp, and pushed him into the freezing abyss. The painful memories of
his own blood and tears flashed through his mind, but instead of fear, a dark, terrifyingly calm
smile slowly spread across Do-Jin's face. He didn't say a single word. Gently pushing Yoo-Jin
behind his back to keep her safe, he casually unbuttoned the cuffs of his dark jacket. The three
thugs laughed, thinking he was just another overconfident rich kid, completely unaware that
the helpless boy they had once murdered had clawed his way back from hell, and that he was
about to make them beg for a mercy he would never give them.
The first thug lunged forward with a wild roar, swinging a heavy fist straight for Do-Jin’s face.
Do-Jin tilted his head by a fraction.
The punch sliced through empty air.
Before the thug could even process what had happened, Do-Jin’s hand shot up and caught his
wrist mid-swing with terrifying ease. The hallway filled with a sickening crunch as Do-Jin twisted
the arm downward at an unnatural angle, forcing the bigger man to crash to one knee with a
choked scream.
Still expressionless, Do-Jin drove his elbow down into the thug’s shoulder.
CRACK.
The man’s howl echoed across the entrance hall.
The second senior charged in immediately, throwing a brutal hook toward Do-Jin’s ribs, but Do-
Jin moved like black water. He stepped inside the blow, his long coat fluttering behind him, and
delivered a short, explosive strike with the edge of his palm straight into the man’s throat. The
thug staggered backward, gagging violently, both hands clawing at his neck.
Then came the spin.
Smooth.
Effortless.
Terrifyingly beautiful.
Do-Jin pivoted on one heel and unleashed a spinning back kick so clean and savage it looked
almost unreal. The sole of his heavy boot slammed into the thug’s chest and launched him
backward across the polished floor. He crashed into a parked scooter near the gate, crumpling
in a heap of twisted metal and broken pride.
The third thug froze.
For the first time, real fear entered his eyes.
Do-Jin slowly turned his face toward him.
That calm smile was still there.
That was what truly broke him.
The thug roared to hide his terror and rushed forward recklessly, trying to tackle Do-Jin with all
his weight. But Do-Jin simply sidestepped, caught the back of his collar, and with monstrous
one-handed strength hurled him forward. The thug’s body slammed face-first into the side of
the college entrance pillar with a dull, ugly thud.
Blood splattered across the white stone.
He dropped instantly.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The entire front entrance had gone still.
Students standing near the bike racks stared with wide eyes, their phones half-raised, too
shocked to even record properly. They had expected a scuffle. A few punches. Some messy
campus fight.
Instead, they had just watched three notorious seniors get erased in seconds by the new
transfer student without him even breathing harder.
The leader, the one whose arm Do-Jin still held twisted behind his back, was now shaking.
Do-Jin leaned down until his cold voice brushed the man’s ear.
“You should be grateful,” he said softly. “The old me would have begged you to stop.”
Then he twisted the arm one last time and released him.
The thug collapsed screaming.
Do-Jin looked down at the three broken men scattered across the ground and his smile
vanished.
“Next time,” he said, voice flat as death, “I won’t stop at broken bones.”
None of them dared answer.
Behind him, Yoo-Jin stood frozen, her fingers pressed to her lips, her eyes trembling with
disbelief. She had seen people fight before. She had seen bullies hurt others for fun. But this
was different. Do-Jin hadn’t fought like a student. He had moved like judgment itself.
He turned the second he looked at her, and the cold violence in his face instantly softened.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
Yoo-Jin quickly shook her head.
“N-no…”
“Good.”
He bent, picked up her bag from where it had fallen in the confusion, then casually grabbed his
bike helmet with the other hand as if he hadn’t just destroyed three men in front of half the
college.
“Come on,” he said. “You’re going to class.”
Yoo-Jin blinked. “A-after that?”
Do-Jin glanced at the groaning thugs on the floor.
“Yes,” he said calmly. “Especially after that.”
He started walking toward the main building, and after a flustered pause, Yoo-Jin hurried after
him.
The crowd parted instantly.
No one dared get in his way.
No one dared whisper too loudly.
No one dared even look directly at Yoo-Jin anymore while she walked beside him.
For the first time since entering this cruel place, Song Yoo-Jin did not feel like invisible trash
being dragged through the halls. She felt protected. Seen. Chosen.
And the feeling made her heart tremble in a way she didn’t understand.
Inside the classroom, the atmosphere was completely different from yesterday.
The moment Baek Do-Jin entered, conversation died.
The same students who used to throw papers, sneer, and laugh now sat stiffly in their seats,
eyes lowered, terrified of provoking him. Even the loudest boys at the back suddenly found the
floor incredibly interesting.
Do-Jin placed Yoo-Jin’s bag gently on her desk before taking his seat beside her.
That simple act sent another wave of murmurs through the room.
Min-Ah, seated toward the center, felt something hot and poisonous twist inside her chest.
He had ignored her again.
Not only ignored her — he had walked in with that pathetic girl beside him, as if Yoo-Jin
mattered more than anyone else in the room.
Her nails dug into her palms.
But every time Min-Ah tried to catch his eye, Do-Jin’s face remained cold and unreadable, like
she didn’t even exist.
The classes began.
At first Yoo-Jin could barely focus. Her hands still shook from the morning, and every time she
remembered the way Do-Jin had stepped in front of her at the entrance, her cheeks turned
pink.
Then, during lecture, a folded note slid quietly onto her desk.
She looked down.
In neat, sharp handwriting it said:
You can breathe now. No one here will touch you while I’m around.
Her lips parted.
Slowly, almost nervously, she turned to look at him.
Do-Jin was facing the front, one elbow on the desk, looking as calm and composed as if he
hadn’t nearly shattered three people at the gates. He didn’t look back at her. He simply tapped
the notebook once with his finger.
A tiny smile, so small it was almost invisible, appeared at the corner of Yoo-Jin’s lips.
It was the first real smile she had shown in a very long time.
By lunch, things became even stranger.
Do-Jin didn’t leave her alone.
He walked beside her to the cafeteria.
He pulled out a chair before she could hesitate.
He set her tray down before she could awkwardly juggle it.
He gave her the unopened bottle of water from his own tray because he noticed her hands
were trembling too hard to unscrew hers.
Every little action was simple.
Natural.
Effortless.
And because of that, they meant everything.
Yoo-Jin kept glancing at him as if afraid he might suddenly disappear. But he stayed there
through the entire lunch break, occasionally saying dry, blunt things in that deep gravelly voice
of his that somehow made her want to laugh.
When she laughed for the first time, softly covering her mouth in embarrassment, Do-Jin
looked at her for a second longer than usual.
“That sound suits you better,” he said.
Her entire face turned scarlet.
The afternoon passed like a dream.
During class, he slid his notes toward her whenever she looked confused.
When a professor called on her and she froze, Do-Jin answered right after her in a way that
shielded her from embarrassment without making it obvious.
When students nearby started whispering too much, he merely lifted his eyes once — and the
entire row fell silent.
Piece by piece, the terror clinging to Yoo-Jin’s shoulders seemed to melt.
By the final lecture, she wasn’t hunched into herself anymore.
By the time the last bell rang, she looked lighter.
Still shy.
Still timid.
But genuinely happy.
The kind of happiness that comes after surviving for too long in darkness and suddenly being
allowed one small patch of sunlight.
As the classroom emptied, Yoo-Jin clutched her notebook to her chest and glanced at him.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Do-Jin stood, lifting both his bag and hers.
“For what?”
She looked down, blushing.
“For… today. For staying.”
He stared at her for a moment, then answered in that same calm voice:
“You don’t thank someone for doing what should have been done from the start.”
That sentence stayed with her all the way out of the building.
And when they left college together side by side, half the campus watched in disbelief.
Do-Jin walked at an easy pace, one hand in his pocket, the other holding his helmet.
Yoo-Jin walked beside him, cheeks pink, trying and failing not to smile.
Near the gate, he slowed slightly and asked, “Did you eat enough?”
Yoo-Jin blinked. “W-what?”
“You barely touched lunch.”
Her face grew even redder. “I was nervous…”
“Then tomorrow,” he said, “eat properly.”
The fact that he said tomorrow so naturally made her heart skip.
He stopped near his bike, looked down at her, and added, “Go home safely.”
Yoo-Jin nodded too quickly. “Y-you too.”
She turned to leave, then hesitated and looked back.
Do-Jin was already putting on his gloves.
“Do-Jin…”
He glanced at her.
For a second she looked terrified of her own courage, then she bowed her head and said in a
tiny voice, “I was really happy today.”
Something quiet moved behind his dark eyes.
“Good,” he said.
And that one word was enough to make her smile all the way home.
The next morning, the college courtyard was overflowing with people.
Word had spread like wildfire.
About the fight at the entrance.
About the mysterious transfer student.
About how he had humiliated the seniors.
About how he had walked out with Yoo-Jin.
Students crowded the stairs, balconies, and pathways, pretending they just happened to be
there.
But everyone was waiting.
And then he arrived.
The growl of his matte-black bike rolled through the front gate like a threat. Conversations died
on the spot as Baek Do-Jin pulled in and parked with perfect, unhurried control. He took off his
gloves, stepped off the bike, and straightened to his full towering height in one smooth motion.
He looked devastating.
Sharp black coat.
Dark fitted shirt.
Cold eyes.
That same aura of absolute dominance.
A little behind the crowd, Yoo-Jin had just entered through the side path. The second she saw
him, her heart fluttered helplessly.
But before she could step forward—
“Do-Jin!”
Min-Ah’s voice rang through the courtyard.
A collective gasp spread through the crowd as the campus goddess herself stepped out into the
open, dressed beautifully, holding a bouquet of expensive white flowers. Her expression was
carefully arranged into one of fragile sincerity, but the hunger in her eyes was impossible to
miss.
She stopped directly in front of him.
The phones came out instantly.
Everyone knew something insane was about to happen.
Min-Ah lowered her lashes, then looked up at him with a trembling smile.
“Ever since you came here,” she said sweetly, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I
tried to deny it, but I can’t anymore.”
The courtyard had gone dead silent.
Even the wind felt still.
“You’re different from every man I’ve ever met,” she continued. “Strong. Untouchable. Special.
When I’m near you, my heart races. I know this may be sudden, but I wanted to tell you in front
of everyone, honestly.”
She lifted the bouquet toward him.
“Baek Do-Jin… I like you. No, I love you. Please accept my feelings.”
The entire campus held its breath.
At the edge of the crowd, Yoo-Jin froze.
For one painful second, something fragile in her chest dropped.
And then—
Do-Jin started laughing.
Not lightly.
Not politely.
He laughed like something buried in a grave had just heard the world make the same disgusting
joke twice.
At first it was low.
Then it grew louder.
Darker.
Sharper.
The sound echoed through the courtyard with such cold madness that the smiles on everyone’s
faces began to disappear.
Min-Ah’s expression wavered.
“D-Do-Jin…?”
He kept laughing.
Shoulders shaking.
Head slightly lowered.
Then, at last, he raised his face.
The look in his eyes made Min-Ah’s blood run cold.
He stepped toward her once.
His voice, when it came, was soft and terrifying.
“You love me?”
Another step.
“You?”
Min-Ah’s fingers tightened around the flowers.
“I… yes…”
Do-Jin smiled.
It was a smile with no warmth in it. A smile sharp enough to cut flesh.
Then—
SMACK.
The slap exploded across the courtyard like thunder.
Min-Ah’s head snapped violently to the side. The bouquet flew out of her hands and scattered
across the ground. A red mark instantly bloomed across her cheek.
The crowd gasped as one.
Yoo-Jin covered her mouth in shock.
Do-Jin looked down at Min-Ah with utter contempt.
“That,” he said coldly, “is for the slap you gave a boy whose only crime was loving you
honestly.”
Min-Ah slowly turned back toward him, eyes wide, one hand clutching her cheek.
“W-what…?”
He bent slightly, his face near hers, voice dropping into a low deadly rumble.
“Look into my eyes.”
She trembled.
He straightened.
“I said look into my eyes.”
The authority in his voice was absolute.
Shaking, Min-Ah obeyed.
The moment her gaze locked onto his, her face drained white.
Because beneath the cold beauty, beneath the new name, beneath the impossible
transformation—
the eyes were the same.
The same eyes that had once looked at her with trembling devotion.
The same eyes that had once stood before her in the sunlight, holding out a necklace with
shaking hands.
The same eyes she had mocked while an entire courtyard laughed.
Her lips parted.
“No…”
A dark smile touched his mouth.
“Now you remember.”
He took one slow step back and spoke loudly enough for the entire campus to hear.
“Don’t you remember me, Min-Ah?”
Every student stood frozen.
“I’m Park Ji-Hoon.”
The name hit the crowd like a bomb.
Whispers exploded instantly.
Park Ji-Hoon?
The Campus Pig?
That’s impossible—
No way—
Min-Ah stumbled backward, tears instantly flooding her eyes.
“No… that can’t be…”
Do-Jin’s expression sharpened into something heartbreaking and cruel all at once.
“Can’t be?” he said. “You should know better than anyone what I’m capable of.”
His voice rose, not in rage, but in something far more frightening — absolute clarity.
“I was the one who stood in front of you with my whole heart in my hands.”
“I was the one who said I would do anything for you.”
“I was the one who believed that one smile from you meant there was still kindness in this
rotten place.”
“And you—”
He pointed at her.
“—you turned my confession into a public execution.”
Min-Ah collapsed to her knees.
“Ji-Hoon, I—”
“Don’t.”
The word cracked like a whip.
“Do not say my name now as if your mouth didn’t help destroy it.”
The crowd was so silent that even breathing sounded loud.
Do-Jin’s eyes burned.
“You asked the world to laugh at me.”
“You let them strip me of my dignity.”
“You watched me bleed.”
“You watched me break.”
“And after all that… now that I returned stronger, now that I came back with power, with a face
and body this shallow world approves of… now you say you love me?”
He gave a short, bitter laugh.
“What do you love, Min-Ah?”
He spread one hand slightly, indicating himself.
“This face?”
“This height?”
“This money?”
“This aura?”
Then his voice dropped lower.
“Because you sure as hell never loved my heart.”
Min-Ah broke into sobs. “I was wrong—I was cruel—I know that now—”
“No,” Do-Jin said. “You’re not sorry because you understand pain. You’re sorry because for the
first time in your life, the person you tried to crush came back taller than your cruelty.”
He turned slowly, making sure every person in that courtyard heard the next words.
“Listen carefully. All of you.”
His gaze swept across the students like a blade.
“Never mock someone’s pain because they’re too broken to fight back.”
“Never mistake kindness for weakness.”
“Never think silence means a person has no strength.”
“And never, ever believe that humiliating someone makes you powerful.”
He looked back at Min-Ah.
“A good heart is not something you trample and replace when you finally see value in it.”
“When someone loves you sincerely, that is not your stage to perform on.”
“That is not your toy to break.”
“That is not your right to destroy.”
Min-Ah was shaking uncontrollably now.
Do-Jin’s final words to her came slow, cold, and final.
“The boy who loved you is dead.”
He touched his chest once.
“You killed him.”
Then he lowered his hand.
“And the man standing in front of you now?”
A chilling smile crossed his face.
“He belongs to the consequences you created.”
Min-Ah bowed forward, sobbing into the ground, completely shattered before the same kind of
crowd she had once used to destroy him.
Do-Jin looked at her one last time.
“You made me into a joke once,” he said quietly. “Now learn what it feels like when the
laughter comes back.”
Then he turned away.
Not toward the crowd.
Not toward the flowers on the ground.
Toward Yoo-Jin.
She stood frozen, eyes trembling, cheeks already flushed from everything she had just
witnessed.
Do-Jin walked to her calmly.
Then, in front of the entire college—
he reached out and took her hand.
Yoo-Jin gasped softly.
His grip was warm. Steady. Certain.
Min-Ah saw it.
The entire campus saw it.
Do-Jin didn’t even glance back as he said, “Come on. We’re going to class.”
Yoo-Jin’s face turned a deep, helpless red, but her fingers tightened around his.
“O-okay…”
He led her through the parted crowd as if none of them mattered.
And as they walked past the shattered remains of Min-Ah’s pride, Yoo-Jin kept stealing shy little
glances at him, her heart pounding so hard she thought everyone could hear it.
When they finally reached the classroom door, Do-Jin looked down at her and noticed the color
in her face.
“You’re blushing,” he said flatly.
Yoo-Jin nearly tripped.
“I-I am not!”
For the first time that morning, something soft touched his expression.
A faint smile.
And that tiny smile hit her harder than anything else.
She lowered her head immediately, too flustered to breathe properly, while he opened the
classroom door and let her enter first.
Outside, the campus was still in chaos.
But inside, with her hand still warm from his, Song Yoo-Jin stepped into the room feeling like
the world had somehow changed.
And maybe, for her, it finally had.
After that day, Seoul University was never the same again.
It was as if an invisible hand had reached down from the heavens and violently reset the entire
campus hierarchy.
The laughter that once echoed so proudly through the hallways disappeared. The cruel groups
that used to gather near the stairwells and cafeteria corners no longer swaggered around like
kings. The boys who once shoved weaker students against lockers now lowered their eyes and
moved aside when Baek Do-Jin walked past. The girls who used to sneer, gossip, and destroy
people with sweet smiles suddenly found themselves speaking in hushed voices, terrified that
one wrong word might reach the ears of the man who had publicly shattered the untouchable
goddess of the campus.
No one bullied anyone anymore.
Not openly.
Not secretly.
Not even in whispers.
Because everyone had seen what happened when cruelty finally met something colder,
stronger, and more relentless than itself.
And at the center of that transformed campus stood one man.
Some called him Baek Do-Jin.
Others, in secret, still whispered Park Ji-Hoon.
But no matter which name they used, the feeling was the same.
Fear.
A deep, instinctive fear.
Professors who once ignored suffering suddenly became strict and attentive. Senior students
started showing up to class on time. The library, once half-empty except during exams, became
crowded every evening with students desperately trying to improve themselves. The sports
idiots who once ruled by violence now kept their heads down and studied like their lives
depended on it. It was almost laughable.
The entire college had become serious.
Disciplined.
Almost respectable.
Not because they had suddenly become good people.
But because for the first time, they had learned that actions had consequences.
And Ji-Hoon—Do-Jin—watched it all with the same cold silence.
He did not smile.
He did not celebrate.
He did not act like a king.
He simply existed.
And that was enough.
His presence alone was like a law carved into stone:
No one suffers here the way I suffered again.
As for Min-Ah, she was never the same after that day.
The girl who once shone like a false star became a ghost wandering her own ruined kingdom.
People still looked at her, but not with envy anymore. Not with admiration. Only with
discomfort, pity, and sometimes quiet ridicule. The same crowd she once controlled now
remembered her as the girl who publicly confessed to the man she had once destroyed, only to
be exposed, rejected, and reduced to tears before the entire college.
Her beauty remained.
But beauty was all she had ever had.
And now everyone knew how ugly the rest of her was.
So the days passed.
And in those days, something gentle began to grow in the quiet spaces left behind by fear.
Yoo-Jin changed too.
At first, it was small.
She no longer flinched every time someone walked behind her.
She no longer ate lunch in hidden corners.
She no longer hunched over her books like she was apologizing for existing.
With Do-Jin beside her, the world slowly stopped feeling like a battlefield.
She began answering questions in class.
She started tying her hair back instead of hiding behind it.
She even smiled more often now — soft, shy little smiles that always seemed to appear most
easily when he was near.
And Do-Jin noticed.
He noticed the way her voice grew steadier.
The way her hands stopped trembling when she passed him a notebook.
The way her eyes lit up whenever he said something unexpectedly dry and blunt.
He never said much.
But he noticed everything.
Every morning he waited near the gate without making it obvious.
Every lunch he made sure she actually ate.
Every afternoon he walked with her a little farther than necessary, just to make sure she got
home safely.
Neither of them said what was happening between them.
But it was there.
Quiet.
Warm.
Fragile.
A feeling neither of them dared touch too quickly.
Because Yoo-Jin had spent too long being unloved.
And Ji-Hoon had spent too long being destroyed.
A few days later, the sun was beginning to set behind the college buildings, painting the empty
courtyard in deep gold and long shadows.
Classes had ended early.
Most students had already gone home.
Ji-Hoon was standing near the old tree by the back path, one hand in his coat pocket, staring
out at the evening sky with that same unreadable expression he always wore when he thought
no one was watching.
Then he heard it.
“J-Ji-Hoon…”
He turned.
Yoo-Jin was standing a few feet away.
She was clutching her bag so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. Her breathing was
uneven. Her cheeks were already red, and her eyes looked so frightened and determined at the
same time that for a brief moment, Ji-Hoon felt something inside his chest tighten.
He said nothing.
He simply waited.
Yoo-Jin took one small step forward.
Then another.
“I… I know I’m not very brave,” she said, her voice trembling. “Actually… I’m really not brave at
all.”
Ji-Hoon’s gaze softened slightly.
Yoo-Jin lowered her eyes, forcing herself to continue.
“I’m still scared of a lot of things. Loud voices. Crowds. Being looked at. Being laughed at…” She
swallowed hard. “And… I’m scared right now too.”
A faint wind stirred the leaves around them.
Ji-Hoon did not interrupt her.
He could see how much courage it was taking for her just to stand there.
“But,” Yoo-Jin whispered, “if I don’t say this now, I think I’ll regret it forever.”
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
Then, finally, she looked up at him.
There were tears already gathering in her eyes, but she didn’t look away.
“When I was with you…” she said shakily, “for the first time in my life, I felt safe. Not pitied. Not
tolerated. Safe.”
Ji-Hoon’s breathing slowed.
Yoo-Jin’s voice cracked.
“You looked at me like I mattered.”
“You protected me when no one else did.”
“You stayed beside me when everyone else would have walked away.”
“And little by little… without even realizing it…”
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“I started liking you.”
Ji-Hoon stood still as stone.
Yoo-Jin’s whole body was trembling now, but she kept going anyway, like she had decided she
would rather shatter honestly than stay silent forever.
“No,” she whispered through tears. “That’s not enough.”
She took one more step forward.
“I love you, Ji-Hoon.”
The evening seemed to go quiet around them.
Even the wind held its breath.
Yoo-Jin bowed her head quickly, as if she could no longer bear the weight of her own
confession.
“I know I’m probably not good enough,” she said, tears falling faster now. “I know you’ve been
hurt more than I can even imagine. I know your heart carries things I can’t fix. And I know
someone like me might not have the right to stand beside someone like you…”
Her voice broke completely.
“But even so… even so, I wanted to tell you. Because my feelings are real. And because…
because I don’t want you to think you’re alone anymore.”
By the end, she was crying openly.
Not dramatically.
Not beautifully.
Just honestly.
The kind of crying that comes when a person has spent too long holding everything in and
finally places their heart in someone else’s hands.
Ji-Hoon stared at her in silence.
And for the first time in a very long time, the terrifying man everyone feared looked almost
human again.
He saw not Min-Ah’s fake tears.
Not the cruel faces of the crowd.
Not the broken boy kneeling in the courtyard of the past.
He saw Yoo-Jin.
A girl who had been hurt.
A girl who had survived.
A girl who was still trembling, still afraid, and still brave enough to love honestly.
Slowly, Ji-Hoon stepped toward her.
Yoo-Jin froze.
He stopped right in front of her.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Ji-Hoon lifted one hand and gently wiped the tears from her cheek with his thumb.
His voice, when he finally spoke, was low, rough, and painfully sincere.
“I’m not a good man, Yoo-Jin.”
Her tears trembled on her lashes.
Ji-Hoon gave a faint, bitter smile.
“I’m not the kind, naive boy I used to be.”
“I’m not soft anymore.”
“I’m not pure.”
“And I don’t know if what’s left inside me can still be called whole.”
He lowered his hand slowly.
“I’m just a simple broken man.”
The words landed between them with quiet weight.
Yoo-Jin’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
Ji-Hoon looked directly into her eyes.
“But…”
His voice softened.
“If you’re really okay with someone like me…”
“If you can accept the parts of me that are scarred, dark, and unfinished…”
He took a slow breath.
“Then I’m all yours.”
For one second, Yoo-Jin just stared at him.
As if her heart couldn’t understand what her ears had heard.
Then she broke.
A sob tore from her chest as she covered her mouth with both hands, tears spilling endlessly
down her face. But these were not the tears of humiliation or despair she had cried for so long.
These were the tears of someone who had reached the end of suffering and found,
unbelievably, a place to rest.
Ji-Hoon’s expression softened completely.
He opened his arms.
That was all it took.
Yoo-Jin stumbled forward into him, crashing against his chest as if she had been holding herself
together for years just waiting for permission to fall apart. Ji-Hoon wrapped his arms around
her carefully, then tightly, holding her like she was something precious and breakable and real.
Yoo-Jin buried her face against him, crying so hard she could barely breathe.
And Ji-Hoon, the man who had once stood alone on the edge of a bridge ready to vanish from
the world, closed his eyes and rested his chin lightly against her hair.
The sunset burned gold around them.
For a long time, neither of them spoke.
They didn’t need to.
Because some wounds are not healed by speeches.
Some loneliness is not ended by revenge.
And some broken hearts are not saved by becoming powerful…
…but by finally being loved by someone gentle enough to hold the pieces without fear.
In the end, Park Ji-Hoon did get his revenge.
He made his tormentors kneel.
He made the cruel crowd choke on their own laughter.
He returned stronger, richer, colder, and more terrifying than anyone had imagined.
But that was not what saved him.
What saved him… was a trembling girl with tearful eyes, a wounded heart, and the courage to
love him honestly when he believed he was far beyond saving.
And so, as the last sunlight faded over Seoul University and the long shadows of the past finally
began to loosen their grip, the broken boy who had once died in that courtyard was not buried
in darkness after all.
He was found.
In her arms.
In her tears.
In her love.
And while the campus would go on whispering the legend of Baek Do-Jin — the cold king, the
monstrous transfer student, the man everyone feared — Song Yoo-Jin would know the truth no
one else ever truly understood.
Behind the power,
behind the silence,
behind the terrifying eyes,
he was still Ji-Hoon.
A broken man.
And now, finally—
a loved one.