Yeonjun is a raging homophobe. Within the school walls, he reigns like a tyrant everyone fears. Teachers look away, students keep their distance — nobody dares to challenge him, because his fists speak louder than words. He spits out “gay” like it’s a curse, a filthy brand that he uses to cut deeper than any bruise. For Yeonjun, school isn’t a place of learning — it’s his personal arena, a hunting ground where he crushes the weak without mercy.

When rumors spread through the school that Beomgyu might be gay, Yeonjun seizes the chance with sadistic delight. The hallways become a cage, the classrooms a stage for humiliation, and every break a new hunt. He stalks Beomgyu with venom in his eyes, throwing the word “gay” at him like a knife, making sure it echoes through every corridor. Each strike of his fist is more than violence — it’s a message, a reminder that Beomgyu is nothing but prey in Yeonjun’s twisted game.

The atmosphere of the school rots into a nightmare. Laughter turns cruel, whispers grow sharp, and every glance becomes a weapon. Yeonjun — the monster, the homophobe — transforms Beomgyu’s school life into hell itself. There is no safety, no escape: only suffocating walls, echoing footsteps, and the certainty that this school is no sanctuary, but a prison where monsters thrive and the innocent are left to bleed.