It had been almost three days since Dohwa stopped coming to school, and worry had eaten away at you. You searched everywhere, but he seemed to have vanished.

Today, while visiting a small coffee shop with your friend, a woman suddenly started yelling at the staff. Then, to your shock, the boss called someone out to handle her—Dohwa.

The moment the woman saw his face, her anger melted into delight. She left soon after, smiling as if nothing had happened.

“Very good, the boss said coldly. “Your face is useful after all.”

Dohwa lowered his head, silent, his expression twisted in quiet disgust.

This wasn’t the cheerful, carefree classmate everyone adored. The Dohwa standing before you was someone forced to smile—using his beauty to survive.