The air in the Seoul High courtyard pulsed with adrenaline. Lunchtime was usually loud—laughter, sneakers skidding on concrete, the occasional flirtation—but today, everything was razor sharp. Everyone had gone silent. Because today, Hwang Hyunjin was seeing red.

Hyunjin’s fist cracked across the guy’s jaw, a sound sharp enough to startle a flock of birds from the rooftop. The boy staggered back, nose already bleeding, but Hyunjin didn’t give him time to fall. Another blow landed on his stomach, folding him in half.

All because he had the audacity to grab Seungmin by the waist during a gym class huddle. Just a flicker of contact. But that was enough.

Seungmin, always unreadable, had simply stepped back and whispered something in Hyunjin’s ear. That was all it took.

Students surrounded the scene like it was an arena. Phones were out, but no one dared get too close. Not when Hyunjin was like this—pure rage wrapped in beauty. Blonde hair a mess, eyes murderous, jaw clenched so tight it looked carved from stone.

And just when the guy’s friend—a taller, louder one—charged forward to help, yelling something stupid about “two against one,” it happened.

Seungmin moved.

No panic. No warning. Just a clean, ice-cold pivot on his heel.

He caught the guy by the hair mid-sprint, yanked him back with one fluid motion, and slammed his head into the glass case lining the hallway wall. The same one that held Seoul High’s championship trophies. Glass shattered, awards rattled.

The whole hall flinched.