Chapter 1
Beep beep beep... Beep beep beep...
"Mm..."
Han Yaseong rubbed his eyes and dragged himself out of bed at the blaring alarm. Now twenty years old and a college freshman, he had a unique name—Yaseong, meaning "wild nature"—but there was nothing wild about him. He was just your average guy, the kind you could pass on any street without a second glance. No muscles, no impressive height, no good looks. He had the presence of someone who blended seamlessly into the wallpaper. In a crowd, no one would even notice he was there.
He knew it all too well—his own invisibility.
"Sigh..."
Han Yaseong grimaced as he left his room and headed to the bathroom. He'd had some unpleasant dream, but the details slipped away no matter how hard he tried to recall them. It felt like echoes of some old, bitter memory, leaving a sticky unease in his chest. But what did it matter? His life held no joy anyway. A bad dream wouldn't change a thing.
Whoosh... He turned on the faucet and stared into the mirror. Utterly ordinary. Nothing to boast about. College had only amplified it. The handsome guys turned heads just by walking by, but not him. Three months into university, and some classmates still barely knew he existed.
With his plain looks and introverted nature, he felt even more isolated in daily life. No girlfriend, of course. Hell, he barely talked to any girls.
Han Yaseong gave a bitter smile to his reflection. Why am I so pathetic...?
No dreams, no passion. He'd just studied enough to scrape into a decent school. That was it. Paradoxically, though, he harbored a vague fantasy: becoming an adventurer or explorer. Maybe that could change him. But he never pursued it. He knew it was too hard. At twenty, he was still just a green kid, too timid even to try.
In novels or comics, a twenty-year-old might conquer the world. In reality, they were barely hatchlings, fragile and fledgling.
Han Yaseong brushed his teeth, washed his hair, splashed his face, and stepped out of the bathroom. His place was a simple whole-house lease: one room connected to a living room and a combined bathroom/toilet. His parents had set him up with it after their divorce when he was in middle school.
Family? It was family in name only. No group dinners, no laughing together over TV. His dad, an executive at some securities firm, was always too busy to see. His mom was constantly out overnight. They were just formalities.
So when they split, he felt nothing. If anything, living alone sparked a flicker of excitement—he even thought it was for the best. But reality hit hard. No close friends to hang with, no girlfriend, just endless solitude at home. Sometimes he wondered if he was the weird one. The loneliness gnawed at him.
His life was so monotonously empty. At least college gave him somewhere to go regularly, staving off total boredom. And after years without a crush since middle school, he'd finally found one he liked.
Spray spray... He spritzed his hair haphazardly, grabbed his bag, and headed out. Outfit? Jeans and a plain t-shirt. He didn't fuss over clothes. At 173 cm—average height—he figured it wouldn't help anyway. Tall guys pulled off fashion; for him, it would just invite mockery. Better to keep it simple and unassuming.
Basking in the sunlight, bag slung over his shoulder, he walked on. It was past 10 a.m., so the city streets were fairly quiet. Hanyoung University was about two kilometers away—a thirty-minute walk. He skipped the bus, treating it as morning exercise.
By the time he reached the school gates, students bustled in and out. Summer meant light clothes on the girls: short shorts, white crop tops revealing bra straps. As a guy in his prime, Han Yaseong's eyes wandered. Hell, maybe that was half the reason he bothered coming to school—to ogle the slim coeds.
Without that guilty pleasure, why show up at all?
He kept walking, entering the humanities building. His general elective was at 11 a.m. Before class, he ducked into the bathroom to tousle his hair—a rare vanity. He only cared about his looks today because she was in this lecture.
The first time he'd spotted her, he'd fallen hard at first sight. It shattered his middle-school vow: Never fall for a girl again. Still, he never approached. Watching from afar was enough. A nobody like him lacked the guts anyway.
He took his seat in the lecture hall as other students filed in, chattering noisily. They seemed to embody the romance of college life. Han Yaseong sat quietly alone. He wanted to mingle, but he lacked the nerve. Plus, he couldn't drink or smoke—barriers to fitting in. Department gatherings were always smoky booze-fests. Sober and passive, he had no close seniors or peers even months in.
The hall buzzed for a while, then a group of radiant girls swept in like they glowed. Instinct drew every guy's gaze—including his. Four stunning freshmen, department queens, clutched books to their chests, laughing as they entered. Breath-taking beauties; the boys' eyes locked on.
Han Yaseong eyed just one among them. The others were gorgeous, sure, but irrelevant. His gaze was stolen by her alone.
Kwon Seoha. Twenty, same age. Her smile was pure and lovely. She'd reignited his long-dormant heart since that horrific middle school day.
She settled with her friends at the side, giggling away. He stole glances at her back profile. Even her side-view smile was perfect.
An English Lit major, Kwon Seoha was already the campus idol. She'd modeled for the university brochure—reluctantly, embarrassed, pushed by senior promoters. Now everyone at Hanyoung knew her; rumors said she trended online like a celeb, dubbed the "Freshman Goddess."
These whispers always floated around—chatty guys in lectures dished endlessly. Even now, nearby students murmured.
"Heard Kwon Seoha was a total bombshell in high school. Boys camped at her school gates just for a glimpse."
"She's stunning, no doubt. Her friends too, though."
"The queens stick together. Hot girls clique up... Should I play the madman and shoot my shot?"
"Get real. Competition's insane. Every guy's been shot down. She's dating some big shot later. Totally different league from us."
"Yeah, her dad's a famous med school prof. Probably ends up with a doctor."
Such gossip drifted to him unbidden. Han Yaseong just gazed at her. She lived in a different world. No chance he'd ever talk to her. She probably didn't even know him. Maybe his name rang a bell—unique enough.
"Han Yaseong."
"Here."
Roll call. Nearby students glanced indifferently when he answered—odd name. But that was it. He was too plain for more. Seoha, up front, didn't bother turning.
And so his presence faded again.
For the next two hours, he half-heard the professor's droning lecture while fixating on her. Her shoulder-length bob swayed prettily. He'd always liked long straight hair, but now he preferred her bouncy cut. She could rewrite his tastes.
The stuffy lecture ended. He packed slowly, trailing out. In the hall, Seoha and her friends chattered ahead. Their figures were flawless—bodies sculpted to perfection. Other guys trailed, admiring. Eyes glued to the four queens' swaying hips.
Han Yaseong was no different. Staring at their famed assets stirred him in his jeans. Then came the sigh. He felt so small, so pathetic.
Drowning in gloom, he turned the opposite way. No more peeking like a creep, shrinking himself further.
How pathetic was this? Sneaking erections from glimpses of same-age coeds' asses...