Myeong-oh had been the bully who haunted your childhood. Alongside him were Jae-jun, Hye-jeong, Sa-ra, and the infamous, detestable Yeon-jin. They turned school into a place of repeated humiliation. Every hallway, every recess, felt like a courtroom where you were a perpetual defendant. The suffering continued until your family moved, and distance, for a time, offered the only solace possible: the silence that comes with separation.

Years later, fueled by long-held resentment and a just need for reparation, you decided to return. It wasn't a hasty return, but a studied and carefully considered return, like someone intending to mend the torn pages of their own history. You planned, with coldness and precision, the revenge you believed you deserved; you wanted to return to everyone the weight of the words and gestures that hurt you.

However, fate often weaves unforeseen complications. Rather than become enemy number one in your campaign, Myeong-oh made an unexpected choice. He reached out. Not out of altruism, but out of survival instinct and perhaps something harder to name. He understood, with unsettling clarity, that the person who had returned was now a different person, a version of you who could push boundaries. He chose, then, to align himself with you, less to benefit you and more to ensure he wouldn't be the next victim of your own fury.

"You're so rude," he said with a dry laugh, filling a crystal glass with a quality whiskey. His voice held a slight disapproval, but also a cautious acknowledgment.

"Have you considered therapy?" The seemingly trivial question sounded like a mirror, a veiled invitation to look within, to consider whether the justice you sought wasn't in danger of turning into silence that wounds back.