Criminal Boy (4)
Moses' miracle wasn't just a term from the Bible. Every time Woo-cheol walked down the hallway, the kids parted like the Red Sea, and this was routine for him. But at some point, the look in their eyes changed. Whether in class or sneaking a smoke in the bathroom, Jin Woo-cheol sensed it. It wasn't the old submission and fear anymore—they were staring him right in the eye, on the same level!
"Go get Seon-u."
"Why him all of a sudden?"
"I said get Seon-u, you little shit!"
Questioning his orders? That never would've flown before!
"Go Seon-u, be straight with me. You know something, don't you?"
"W-what are you talking about, Woo-cheol?"
Go Seon-u. Not much of a fighter, but his brain spun at lightning speed. Even at Yuseong Foreign Language High, packed with top students from across the country, he always ranked in the upper echelons—the strategist for Woo-cheol.
"Lately, the kids' reactions have gone cold. Spill it. What happened?"
"Sigh! Fine. You'll find out anyway. Take a look at this."
Go Seon-u pulled out his phone and opened the SNS app.
"...Th-this!"
"Yeah. Looks like the little punks are getting bold because of it."
Park Hyeong-jun. A short post on his SNS:
[I got back. Tell me. Who is the King?]
Dozens of comments piled up below.
ㄴ No way, Park Hyeong-jun??
ㄴ The king's return! The legend returns!
ㄴ The real Jungcheon united king has finally arrived!
ㄴ Someone must be scared shitless right now. lol
A ragged breath escaped Jin Woo-cheol's lips. His bloodshot eyes scanned the tiny screen over and over.
"That fucker Park Hyeong-jun is straight-up baiting you. He got stripped of his boxing eligibility because of you, ended up pickpocketing, and even did time... And that middle schooler we fucked up recently? Turns out he's a direct junior of Park Hyeong-jun's. Guy's lost his mind."
Go Seon-u trailed off, gauging the mood. Blood vessels bulged in Jin Woo-cheol's eyes. His breathing grew heavy, chest heaving wildly.
Daring to snipe at me? That uneducated piece of trash with nothing to his name!
In Korea, a student's worth was decided by their school's name. When fights ended at the police station and IDs came out, adults' reactions split sharply. "Yuseong Foreign Language High" became a free pass, no matter the crime, while the vocational school kids he'd beaten became the delinquents who bullied the smart ones. The sweet privilege of elite high schoolers.
Add his own fists to that pedigree, wrapped in his father's influence, and it was an invincible kingdom.
But now, cracks were forming in that kingdom.
A ringing filled his ears. His throat dried up as his breath quickened. A guttural roar burst out unbidden.
"That dogshit Park Hyeong-jun! I'll kill him right now!"
"N-no! Woo-cheol, remember what your dad said?"
Go Seon-u blocked Jin Woo-cheol, who looked ready to bolt.
Dad...!
The ringing faded. Go Seon-u's voice finally registered.
"The kids' reactions will blow over quick. Ignore it. If you cause another scene now, you're totally fucked!"
Go Seon-u wrapped his arms around the heaving back of Jin Woo-cheol. But unlike his earnest advice, his eyes had gone ice cold.
Jin Woo-cheol couldn't crumble now. Go Seon-u, once just a book-smart nobody, could strut anywhere in Jungcheon—school or streets—only because of him. If Jin Woo-cheol lost to Park Hyeong-jun, that power vanished.
Jungcheon united king? Jin Woo-cheol's pride? Go Seon-u didn't give a damn. He just needed his solid shield.
* * *
"Bro, that Jin Woo-cheol punk's staying quiet? Thought he'd come charging."
"Guess he got a better home education than we figured. Or maybe he's got some sly advisor pulling strings."
Park Hyeong-jun tilted his head, still scrolling his SNS.
"Anyway, what about the guys I told you to round up?"
"Yeah, heading to meet 'em today. Not just my old school, Seoul Body High—Hae-nam, Buk-san, San-wang vocational highs too. All the third-year kings from Jungcheon's six schools are in."
"You sure you can lock 'em down?"
"Bro."
Park Hyeong-jun smirked, meeting my gaze head-on.
"Those guys? They'll follow me no question."
"Why's that?"
"Might look like kid games to you big shots, but our world's got its own order. Once they bow, we don't touch 'em. Seniors get respect, no matter how easy a mark. But Jin Woo-cheol? No clue. Or rather, no reason to know—he was born with everything."
Park Hyeong-jun drew a quiet breath.
"Kids our age all got scars. Anyone who doesn't get that? No one follows for real."
His tightly pressed lips radiated resolve.
* * *
Less than five minutes left in the last class.
Smoke one and call it a day?
As Woo-cheol descended the hallway stairs, head down—BAM! He collided with a rushing kid, body jolting.
"Ah, sorry. Didn't see you."
An instinctive apology slipped from the kid's mouth. Jin Woo-cheol's brow twitched.
He'd heard the words, sure. But years at the top of school violence let him feel the emotion behind them on instinct.
This punk... he's not scared of me.
Thwack!
His fist flew at the kid's face before he knew it. He stepped toward the fallen boy. Soon, he'd be on his knees, rubbing hands together in real apology.
"Ah, fuck! Why'd you hit me?"
Jin Woo-cheol doubted his ears.
"Can't even touch the hotshots, so you pick on easy marks. Think only your dad's a big shot? My dad's a prosecutor too, asshole!"
Jin Woo-cheol's glare fixed not on the yelling kid, but the empty wall beyond.
Park Hyeong-jun's provocation. He'd thought it a passing breeze, but it was a relentless wave.
His fortress kingdom was crumbling into a pathetic sandcastle.
With trembling hands, Jin Woo-cheol powered on his phone. Even his father Jin Hwi-jae's strict orders faded away.
Dozens of DM notifications blinked. Raw mockery from the Jungcheon six-school kings who'd once knelt to him.
Smack in the middle: Park Hyeong-jun, grinning wide. Work clothes on, "Sangjeong Auto Shop" sign overhead.
Jin Woo-cheol slowly shook his head. Even then, DMs kept flooding in.
His head-shake grew wilder, more furious.
* * *
The final bell rang, but Jin Woo-cheol never returned to class. From the back seat, Go Seon-u gnawed his nails, staring at the empty spot.
Ominous thoughts raced.
Can't go after Park Hyeong-jun now!
He swallowed hard and pulled out his phone.
"Hello? This is a request for Jungcheon Police violent crimes team leader Gwak Du-sik."
* * *
The beat-up 12-seater van reeked of stale air, never washed. Overpacked, it felt cramped.
Jin Woo-cheol wrinkled his nose, staring silently out the window.
"Yo! What brings Jungcheon united king to slobs like us?"
"Heh, you don't do SNS? Jin Woo-cheol's hands and feet are getting cut off—he's done for."
Guys who wouldn't meet his eyes before, talking shit like this. Jungcheon's runaway crew. The hyena types who blackmailed runaway girls into sex joints—shunned even among school violence packs.
But with other school kings turning their backs, they were his only troops left. No-tomorrow trash who'd do anything for cash.
Perfect, actually.
Jin Woo-cheol's lips twisted oddly. Ideal disposable pawns.
"So, grab Park Hyeong-jun and we get five hundred?"
"You sure? Fresh out, but he was a legend once!"
"Heh. Legend my ass—numbers and fists don't lie?"
The yellow-dyed hair punk gripped his motorcycle chain, cackling.
* * *
Sangjeong Auto Shop. There was Park Hyeong-jun's face. Grease-stained work clothes, bent low, crawling under a car. He scratched his head at some mistake, bowing to the boss.
This loser sniped me?
Break time, maybe—he pulled his phone for a call. His gaze flicked my way briefly, then he turned back to the shop.
"Jin Woo-cheol, just rush 'em all now?"
"No. Wait till he's off."
This wasn't Jungcheon. Handle it quiet, no eyes.
Jin Woo-cheol's eyes burned red, like a beast before the hunt.
* * *
He's here.
Third day staking out across from Sangjeong Auto Shop. A rickety van that looked amazed to even roll parked out front. Through the cracked window: a teen pack, cigarette smoke, Yuseong Foreign Language High's blue uniforms.
Phoned Hyeong-jun's number. A bitter chuckle leaked from the guy who'd spotted the van.
– Jin Woo-cheol must be desperate. Dragged in trash he'd never associate with.
"Ran the plates already. Burner van. Runaways?"
– Yeah. Top-tier scum. Guess he's dead set on me today.
"Watch your back. Stick to the plan."
* * *
Park Hyeong-jun, changed to plain clothes, bowed to the boss and left the shop. At the runaway leader's nod, the van door opened—three kids hopped out. The last gripped a 50cm steel pipe, vanishing it into his jacket.
"Hey! Isn't that Hyeong-jun bro? Heard you got out. Fancy meeting here!"
As banter split Hyeong-jun's focus, the pipe cracked his skull. No scream—he crumpled. The pack grabbed his shoulders, stuffing him into the van. Pros at this; abduction done in seconds.
SLAM!
Door shut with a boom, held breaths exploded out.
"Ah, fuck. Easier than thought. Freaked for a 'first-gen legend'."
"Park Hyeong-jun's human too? Back of the head drop, same as anyone. Heh!"
Hyeong-jun, wrists bound behind, shoved to their feet. Unconscious, a gag in his mouth.
"Yo, snap my pic. For SNS."
"Me too!"
They posed, feet on his head, V-sign selfies.
Jin Woo-cheol tilted his head, letting out a low sigh.
...Too easy. The Park Hyeong-jun I know, collapsing like this...?
To quell the rising unease, Woo-cheol took a deep breath.