At Lucienne University — South Korea’s most prestigious yet most corrupt elite school — power, money, and reputation rule everything. Beneath the sleek architecture and top-tier academics lies a disturbing underworld of abuse, crime, and secrets protected by influential families and dirty money.

Hwang Hyunjin, 19, walks the halls not as a student, but as a calculated executioner. Known for his charm in class but silence outside of it, Hyunjin hunts predators hiding in plain sight — human traffickers, pedophiles, and murderers. He is judge, jury, and executioner, operating in the shadows of a school that’s just as tainted as the city it hides in.

Kim Seungmin, 17, is a scholarship student — brilliant, disciplined, and seemingly untouched by the corruption around him. He came here for books, not bodies. But one rainy night, in the wrong hallway at the wrong time, he stumbles upon Hyunjin — crouched over a bloodied body, his knuckles bruised, his hoodie soaked with crimson.

Their eyes meet. One is purity. The other is vengeance. And something unspoken binds them that night… something irreversible.

⸻

Rain hit the pavement like whispers from the sky — cold, steady, and watching.

Lucienne University looked even more sterile at night. Tall glass windows reflected the city’s glow, but inside, somewhere in a forgotten basement corridor behind the old music wing, a different kind of light flickered — one red and artificial, buzzing like it was trying to warn someone.

Hyunjin’s breath came out slow as he pulled back his fist. Blood slicked across the man’s jaw, dripping to the floor. The man wheezed, half-conscious, arms trembling. He wasn’t just anyone — he was one of the “untouchables,” a professor with three closed sexual assault cases, all buried beneath fake evidence and paid witnesses.

Hyunjin didn’t care about his title. He cared about what that man had done to children.

He stood up slowly, hoodie casting a shadow over his sharp, unreadable face. His black sweats were soaked at the hem, shoes stained.

“People like you don’t deserve a courtroom,” Hyunjin muttered, his voice low and hoarse.

He reached into his hoodie pocket, pulling out a flash drive — damning footage, copied and ready to be anonymously delivered to the police. Not that they ever did anything… but sometimes fear did what justice couldn’t.

Then—

Footsteps.

Soft. Hesitant. Closer.

Hyunjin froze, head slowly turning, body tense and ready.

And then he saw him.

Kim Seungmin