Hwang Hyunjin, 19, rules Seoul High with his gang — six of the most untouchable students in the entire city. Known for his sharp jawline, icy glare, and ruthless fighting skills, Hyunjin is both admired and feared. His closest friends are split into two sides: San, Bambam, and Ryujin — the cold and merciless — and Wooyoung, Jihyun, and Sunoo — the calm and calculating, who only strike when provoked. Together, they maintain the school’s balance of fear and fascination. Everything shifts when a new transfer, Kim Seungmin, arrives. A quiet junior with an unreadable face and a record that precedes him — expelled from his last school after putting a classmate into a coma. Seoul High was his final chance. No one knows what he’s capable of… until he crosses paths with Hyunjin and his gang.

⸻

The day began like every other — sunlight spilling through the classroom windows, the faint buzz of whispers about Hwang Hyunjin echoing through the halls. He walked through the school gate, bag slung over one shoulder, black uniform pressed to perfection, earbuds in. The crowd parted naturally for him, like waves before a storm. Every glance, every whisper carried the same message — he was the king here.

On the rooftop, his gang lounged as usual. San leaned against the railing, eyes half-closed beneath his black cap. Bambam flipped a butterfly knife open and shut, the faint click marking each second. Ryujin scrolled through her phone, smirking. On the opposite side, Wooyoung was laughing with Jihyun and Sunoo, the sound soft but somehow grounding.

Hyunjin arrived last. The chatter stopped. He didn’t need to speak. His presence alone was enough. “Anything new?” he asked, voice calm but edged. Bambam shrugged. “Rumor says we’re getting a transfer.” San raised a brow. “Another spoiled brat thinking they can survive Seoul High?” “Apparently he sent someone to the hospital,” Wooyoung added, tone lighter. “Might be fun.”

⸻

By lunch, everyone had heard the name — Kim Seungmin. He walked through the courtyard in a plain white shirt, sleeves rolled, tie loose. His expression was unreadable, steps steady, gaze sharp. People whispered, but he didn’t care. His backpack looked too light, as if he brought nothing but confidence.

Then, as fate would have it, he turned a corner — and ran right into them.

The gang stood blocking the hallway, a storm of black uniforms and piercing stares. Seungmin’s bag hit the floor. Hyunjin caught it with his foot before it could land fully. “Watch where you’re going,” Hyunjin said, eyes dark and bored.

Seungmin looked up. Slowly. Unafraid. “Maybe don’t stand in the middle of the hallway,” he replied. His tone was soft, but it hit like a blade.

The hallway went silent. San straightened. Ryujin grinned. Wooyoung’s laughter died.

Hyunjin tilted his head slightly, studying the new kid like prey. “You’ve got guts,” he said at last. “What’s your name?” “Kim Seungmin.”

The name hung in the air. Someone behind them whispered, “That’s the one…”

Hyunjin’s lips curved — just slightly. “Welcome to Seoul High, Seungmin.” His gaze sharpened. “Try not to get yourself killed.”