Chapter 1
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Humans are Animals of Adaptation
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One warm spring day in March.
Cherry blossoms fluttered on the breeze across the campus, and the wind slipping through the window cracks carried the thrilling scent of spring.
A new semester scene that would make any high schooler's heart race with a mix of nerves and excitement.
But for Nam Siwoo, slumped in the corner seat by the door at the very front, none of it registered.
[Nam Siwoo lolol how's Daeseong Information High? Survival report pls.]
[Vibe is straight-up terrifying; these kids are scary af]
[You the snack shuttle already? Watch yourself lol]
KakaoTalk notifications flooded his smartphone screen nonstop.
It was the group chat with his middle school friends—his one safe haven—but today, their jokes cut especially deep.
Siwoo forced a smile as he read their messages.
He'd laughed it off with them, but the truth was, just sitting there terrified him.
Or more precisely, he could barely breathe.
What filled the classroom wasn't the scent of cherry blossoms, but cheap cigarette smoke and cologne.
The price for slacking off in middle school, hanging with friends instead of studying, had been brutal.
Thinking "as long as I keep up with everyone else" had been his downfall.
His report card after grades came out was a disaster, and the result: no liberal arts high school for him.
"Are you an idiot or just brain-dead? Where do you think you're going with scores like these?!"
His family had exploded in anger, plunging him into despair at the thought of going to a different high school from his friends.
His crew of three years, all assigned to liberal arts schools, had headed off giggling together—while he alone was left behind, stranded in unfamiliar territory.
And his options? Just two.
Cheolma Industrial High School, the buzz-cut haven, or Daeseong Information High School, co-ed but with a bad rep.
No real choice.
'I'd die before getting a buzz cut.'
So he'd tearfully chosen Daeseong.
On the big first day, he'd arrived with trembling nerves, but no one paid him any mind.
The kids had already formed their cliques, some even with dyed hair.
A guy like Siwoo, just rolling his eyes from the corner, didn't even register.
'Ah, I was overthinking it...'
In the end, he'd parked himself in the remaining front seat and spent the day face-down like a corpse.
Cheek pressed to the cold March desk, praying desperately for the day to pass without incident.
He'd tried talking to someone at first.
"Ah, fuck. This guy's being a total pain. Shut it."
"What'd you say?"
But the brutal exchanges and scraping chairs from behind had him ducking his head right back down.
This wasn't the world he knew.
One wrong word, and he might end up on the news as a victim.
'Survive three years here...?'
It was the kind of moment that nearly brought tears.
And now, three weeks later.
Humans are animals of adaptation, after all.
Even this hellish school life had fallen into a routine, and Siwoo had adapted in his own way.
Arrive early, pull out the novel from his bag and read, eat alone at the snack bar, spend the rest napping face-down.
Stay out of sight as much as possible. Erase his presence like a ghost.
That was his survival strategy here.
True to its delinquent rep, hardly anyone paid serious attention in class.
The teachers seemed half-resigned too.
As long as you didn't cause trouble, they let you sleep or scroll your phone—pure laissez-faire.
For Siwoo, that indifference was a blessing.
But peace never lasts.
Drag—
During homeroom, the front door slid open, and homeroom teacher Ha Taemu walked in.
The guy who usually just half-assed roll call with a bored look actually rapped on the podium today.
"We're switching seats today."
It hit like a thunderbolt.
Ha Taemu drawled from the lectern, looking annoyed.
"Ah, why?"
A few kids grumbled from their seats.
Especially the rough-looking crew that had claimed the back rows—they scowled hard.
"Other teachers said you back-row punks are too damn loud. Move it."
With that, he flicked on the TV screen, showing a randomized seating chart.
"Whoa! Dude, I'm window seat!"
"Shit... front row again."
Sighs and cheers erupted around the room.
Siwoo's heart started pounding like mad.
'Please no...'
His current spot—right by the front door, first row—was prime real estate.
Everyone avoided it, so he'd claimed it as his safe haven.
Even better, his original seatmate from day one had vanished after that first day—reason unknown—and he'd enjoyed the space solo.
'I thought I'd lucked out...'
"Chart's staying up. Find your seats."
The kids surged into motion at Ha Taemu's final words.
Siwoo's eyes frantically scanned for his name.
And soon enough, he found it—and despaired.
'Ugh, back row...'
Dead last row, window seat no less.
'That's where all the scary ones sit...'
Swallowing tears, Siwoo grabbed his bag and shuffled to the back.
He set it down at his new spot, sat gingerly, and checked the adjacent seat—empty, thank god.
'Huh? They not here yet? Better if they're gone for good...'
Please be a dropout or chronic absentee. Let him hole up quietly in this corner.
He prayed fervently—until a bag thudded down beside him.
Thud.
Siwoo's shoulders jerked at the dull sound.
"Hey. You must be Nam Siwoo?"
A clear, upbeat voice pierced his ear.
Turning, Siwoo found himself looking way up at a towering guy.
Tall, broad shoulders spread wide.
His uniform shirt unbuttoned a couple notches looked intimidating, but his face beamed with a playful grin.
Backlit by the sun, he seemed especially bright.
"I'm Seo Juwon. Let's get along."
Even his easy smile screamed "not like me at all."
No shadows on that face—just pure popular-kid aura.
Siwoo stared blankly at the extended hand, wiped his sweaty palm on his pants, then clasped it tentatively.
"Uh? Y-yeah... let's get along..."
He mumbled awkwardly, flashing a sheepish smile as they shook.
The grip was firm.
'Damn, he's hot...'
Up close, flawless skin, sharp features.
Same uniform, but on him it looked designer. Siwoo adjusted his glasses, feeling small.
Seats swapped, the classroom settled into unwonted calm.
Homeroom ended, murmurs picked up again—but Siwoo ignored it, pulling out his book to read.
Juwon beside him was busy texting on his phone.
Not a delinquent type, but clearly not Siwoo's crowd either.
Should be fine if they just coasted.
'He won't bother me much...'
Siwoo's hopes were dashed—his new seatmate took a keen interest.
"What's this? Oh, novels like that exist? Sounds fun."
Break time, earbuds in, book open—then Juwon's head poked over.
He'd peer at the pages, feigning interest.
"Yo, Nam Siwoo! Soccer game, we're short a guy."
During PE, he'd drag Siwoo—who just wanted to sit out—by the arm.
Dodging the attention wore Siwoo out, and soon lunch bell rang.
Juwon stretched and stood with a groan.
"Ugh, finally."
As Siwoo packed his book, Juwon grinned and waved.
"Enjoy your lunch!"
"Y-yeah. You too."
Forced smile up, Siwoo prepped to bolt for the snack bar.
Cafeteria lines were long and loud; better to grab bread and eat on a quiet bench.
"Snack bar? They got pork stir-fry today though?"
Siwoo fumbled for a reply—when someone called from the back door.
"Yo, Seo Juwon! Lunch or what? I'm starving."
Siwoo's gaze flicked back naturally.
A group of sloppy-uniformed guys and girls waited for Juwon—class troublemakers or his popular crew.
'His friends, huh.'
"Yeah, coming. See ya!"
Juwon waved casually and headed over.
Siwoo exhaled in relief watching him go—until his eyes locked with a girl in the group.
Thump.
In that instant, it felt like his heart plummeted.
Cold cat-like eyes, porcelain skin accentuating red lips.
But what struck first: the sharp black bob framing her neck, glinting in the sunlight.
The neat cut only sharpened her icy gaze.
'Whoa...'
Unreal. Plenty of dolled-up girls at school, but never like her.
Caught staring blankly, her gaze lingered on him a beat.
Indifferent, dry.
Or maybe she hadn't even noticed him.
With Juwon joining, she vanished down the hall with the group.
Snapping back, Siwoo faced an empty, silent classroom.
"...She's gorgeous."
Her face lingered in his mind as he grabbed his wallet.
His pounding heart echoed in his ears.