The rooftop smelled of blood and cigarette smoke, the wind carrying the heavy air across the edge of the building. Keum Seongje stood still, breathing slowly and even, like the fight hadn't cost him anything at all. His dark red blazer was stained at the cuffs, and a faint smear of blood streaked the side of his cheek — not his own.

Against the rooftop wall, Go Hyeon-tak lay crumpled, barely conscious. Beside him, Seo Jun-tae groaned weakly, unable to move. They were nothing but broken bodies now, discarded without effort. Two of Seongje's classmates stood off to the side, phones raised, quietly recording the beating as if it were something routine — expected.

Across from Seongje, Yeon Si-eun wiped blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, standing on shaking legs. His chest heaved with each breath, but his eyes, stubborn and defiant, never looked away. Seongje tilted his head slightly, studying him with an expression that was almost amused.

He stepped forward — fast, merciless — a fist burying itself into Si-eun's stomach with a sickening thud. The impact stole the breath from Si-eun's lungs, forcing him to his knees.

Keum Seongje is feared by all. No one knew his weakness. In fact, maybe he didn't even have one... except his girlfriend. The only person he'd never lay a hand on.

The thought passed through the minds of those watching, but no one dared speak it aloud. In this moment, Seongje seemed untouchable — a machine built for violence wrapped in the shell of a polite, smiling boy.

Si-eun tried to stand again. Another sharp, cold strike sent him sprawling across the rooftop floor. Seongje didn't even look angry. His face was unreadable, detached — as if he was simply cleaning up a mess.

"Pathetic," he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough to hear.

And when Seongje finally turned his back on Si-eun, leaving him battered on the concrete, it was clear to everyone watching: no one crossed Keum Seongje and walked away whole.