Why Are You Trying to Die? Such Irony.
Why are you trying to die? What irony.
I'd figured an elite high school like this would be full of top students and model pupils. So why did the immutable law of delinquents and punks apply here too?
It felt like this novel world had way too many rules to nitpick over, probably because it was a story setting.
Of course, I knew hormones raged through boys this age like berserk warriors. I knew they acted out to look cool in front of girls. And I knew they craved power.
Hell, it was better than getting late-bloomer syndrome and going wild in college.
Yeah, it was natural. Something they'd look back on later and dismiss as an embarrassing phase.
But...
"I just don't get it."
I grabbed the wrist of the guy reaching for Lee Wooju's collar and said it.
"Can't you read the room?"
"You... wh-what the hell are you?"
The guy mumbled something at my sudden interference, but...
"Scram."
One word from me, and he yelped like a whipped mutt before bolting from the scene.
All eyes turned our way in an instant, so I left the cafeteria without looking back.
The law of the jungle...
It blew my mind how even in human society, people clung to animal rules. Prey if you looked weak, suck up to the strong for scraps if you looked tough.
Lee Wooju hadn't done anything wrong back there.
The guy had just been messing around and bumped into him first. But the second he spotted easy prey in Wooju, out came the invisible fangs.
"Wait up!"
I glanced back to see Lee Wooju and Kim Taeyang chasing after me.
"Whoa, Haon? You owned that guy in like two seconds flat."
"Eh, he was just in my way, so I shoved him aside."
"Hah, coming from the guy who's got it all, that actually sounds convincing."
Kim Taeyang patted my shoulder, saying I looked like some comic-book hero.
"Thanks."
Lee Wooju stared at me, eyes wide with emotion.
"What're friends for? Hurry up."
I hated cringey moments like this.
Deep down, I wanted to say, It's 'cause you're such a wimp that those idiots pick on you... But it was early in the semester—no way I could talk that casually yet, like real bros.
And if I did say it, it'd just lead to even bigger misunderstandings.
Anyway, Lee Wooju was prime bully bait from here on out. Until he got close to Chae Serin, he wasn't her cute little pet dog—he was just a perfect toy to torment, nothing more or less.
I don't wanna play bodyguard every damn time, but I can't stand watching those punks strut around in front of me.
Back in class, as I mulled it over...
Should I just clean house like back in middle school?
The insane idea flashed through my head for a second. But...
No excuse for it.
If I started it, I'd just be another delinquent punk.
And I couldn't whip up some "Protect Lee Wooju!" quest on my own.
The plot bait had to be there for him to bond with Chae Serin.
Worst case, if I shielded him every time like before, she'd have nothing to do, they wouldn't date, no marriage, no kids, birth rates tank, economy crashes, country falls, and then... then...
"Screw it."
Baek Haon taking Lee Wooju's side? Good enough.
I'd just handle it when I was around.
Everything else? Hand it off to elite-of-the-elite Chae Serin!
"Hey, you know who that punk from earlier was?"
Yang Hwancheol hadn't even gotten to eat, swept up in the chaos. His wrist still throbbed where Haon had grabbed it.
"Dunno. Looked kinda jacked, though."
"Fuck that. Kids our age are all the same, trained or not."
"Wanna jump him sometime?"
Yang Hwancheol and his buddy Lee Hyunsu talked loud enough for the class to hear—intimidating, showing off.
"Name sounded like a total pussy too."
"Who? That loser? Or the big dude?"
"Both. Lee Wooju and Baek Haon? Gonna smash 'em soon."
"Ooh, taking over the first-years right at the start of term?"
They cackled over words normal kids wouldn't get.
"Anyway, time to pick soon~"
"Yeah. Who's gonna be Hwancheol's top slave in this class?"
Yang Hwancheol licked his lips, scanning the room.
Skipping groups, skipping anyone who looked athletic.
That took him to the front, where he swaggered up.
"Hey, what're you doing?"
Jackpot: prime prey.
"Huh?"
A model student who studied in breaks and ate alone. Shaggy long hair, thick glasses...
"Go buy us some bread."
They targeted Lee Seohwan.
Lee Seohwan's school life was pretty average. Peaceful, you could say.
Boring as hell.
To him, it was pure drudgery.
Early in middle school, hierarchy fights were massive events—fists decided rank, every day a thrill.
He'd always loved brawls, thrived on life-or-death violence.
They said hard workers can't beat those who enjoy it? He'd punch laughing like a maniac.
Even top dogs crawled at his feet.
Until the wall he couldn't climb: Baek Haon.
Before their last group fight, they'd been evenly matched, maybe Haon a bit ahead.
But the moment Haon got out of the hospital...
Everything changed.
No more pointless delinquent games. No hierarchy scraps.
Fear of overwhelming strength?
No one approached Haon anymore.
Burned out, Seohwan ditched fights for studies.
He wondered: What made Haon so strong? What did he want?
Excitement for a life beyond brawls—he'd copy everything Haon did.
"Teach me to study?"
Seohwan gripped pencils not to punch, but to learn.
Talent? Who knew. But new things were fun.
Stuck problems? Ask Haon. Soon, his ranks hit single digits.
This ain't bad.
Sticking with Haon made life fun. Lucky—he followed to this distant high school.
But...
"Different class, huh."
Of course, not with Haon.
"Tch, crashing his class feels weird."
After seeing the crowds around Haon, he chose solitude.
He thought about making friends, but...
Have I ever even made a real friend?
He didn't know how.
Only real friend: Baek Haon.
The rest? Lackeys kissing ass.
He'd ruled his crew with fists—no normal approach.
So he buried himself in books.
Then...
"Wanna beat him?"
Punks like his old self stirred up the class.
Damn mouth-fighters are everywhere.
Seohwan chuckled bitterly at old memories.
Looking back, not cool at all.
He shrugged it off, prepping for next class.
"That Baek Haon punk..."
His friend's name hit his ears.
"Wanna stomp him?"
He nearly burst out laughing at the absurdity.
Start of term's the same everywhere. That transfer in 3rd year got wrecked like a dog in summer.
Seohwan tsked, flipping his notebook.
He'd loved scraps, but seeing them now? Pitied his past self. Ruling like a king didn't last.
Finished prepping, cleaning his glasses...
"Go buy us some bread."
Fun started.
"Wh-what the fuck's with that look?"
He couldn't help the manic grin.
"Fight broke out in Class 7!"
"No way, epic event right at the start?!"
My body moved before my brain.
Class 7—Seohwan's class.
Hoping I was wrong.
You said you'd reformed—don't tell me you relapsed.
If Seohwan was fighting, opponent KO'd minimum.
Praying otherwise, I shoved through the crowd to his class.
"Shouldn't we stop it...?"
"How...?"
Crazy bastards just gawking, stamping feet.
"Y-you're here."
Seohwan lay battered, nearly out.
"Fuckin' loser, what? Hate it? Wipe that shit-eating grin."
The guy stomping him? The cafeteria punk from Wooju.
Spotting me, he beat Seohwan harder.
Still, Seohwan...
"Dude... you were worried, huh... Told you no more fights..."
Met my eyes with a faint smile.
"Die, you fuck!"
Yang Hwancheol, grossed out, hefted a desk.
"Eek!!"
"Someone stop him!!"
Then it hit me.
I'd brainwashed him nonstop, thinking he wouldn't reform.
Memories of begging him not to fight...
They'd wrecked my friend.
-Crash!
I kicked the raised desk flying. Heavy thud on my ankle—didn't matter.
It sailed past Seohwan's knee.
Weird how in romcoms, teachers never show for these. Like they respect the drama.
Felt off, like the story forced it—necessary evil, like villain Haon enrolling here.
I offered my hand to the fallen Seohwan.
"Idiot, you know self-defense laws?"
Grabbing it...
"Haven't gotten there yet."
Lame excuse.
"Know why I flipped out in middle school?"
"To study?"
"Yeah, think you can study getting beat daily?"
He finally got it, nodding.
"Help?"
"First legal fun in ages—hand it to you? Fuck off."
Seohwan tossed his glasses, tied back his messy hair.
I smirked. That face—long time.
Madness blanking everything.
After...
"Hah, you guys are pathetic. Messing with him."
I wished rest in peace for Yang Hwancheol's crew.
For the dead.
Slipping out, Lee Wooju and Kim Taeyang followed, worried.
"Not stopping it?"
"They're gonna die..."
Their concerned looks.
"Yeah, wonder if they will."
"Huh?"
"Those guys."
Lee Wooju and Kim Taeyang stared, confused.
Middle school brawler.
Final villain's bestie lose to third-rate extras?
"Nah, he'll win."
I guarantee—fought him myself.