The Post That Changed Everything
“Dude, did you see the new post that went up?”
“What post? Another one on Granche?”
“Yeah, Granche. It's an exposé, but— ”
“Exposé? Not about Do Seon-woo again?”
“No, no, it's still about Do Seon-woo. But the content seems a bit different this time.”
“Seon-woo again? What the hell has that guy been up to?”
The school was unusually rowdy. All because of a post on Granche.
It was an exposé, but at the same time, a plea for understanding. The kids passed their phones around, reading it.
The reactions from those who read it were all the same.
“Whoa... Is this... for real?”
“......Holy shit.”
There wasn't even time for anger. They just sighed or let out heavy breaths.
The content of the exposé was just too shocking.
The students stared at each other in dazed expressions. No one opened their mouth. The room was filled only with silence.
Creak—!
Finally, the door opened. The protagonist of the exposé, Do Seon-woo, walked in with heavy steps.
But no one looked at him. Couldn't look at him, more like.
*
I'd come early in the morning to study. The classroom, which would normally be buzzing with trash talk about me, was dead quiet today. Not surprising.
The kids were even avoiding eye contact with me.
Soon, it was 8:15, and Ha Ye-jin entered the classroom. Her usually beaming face was clouded with worry.
“Homeroom time.”
Even her voice lacked energy.
“As I always say, there have been a lot of kidnappings targeting middle and high school students lately, so be careful. Nothing else to announce. Byung-hoon, come in.”
Ha Ye-jin beckoned, and Oh Byung-hoon, who had been waiting outside, walked in. His face was covered in faint bruises like he'd been beaten, and his ear was bandaged. Still, his steps were confident. There was determination in his eyes.
“Student Oh Byung-hoon is transferring due to health reasons. He says he has some final words for you all. Listen carefully.”
Oh Byung-hoon cleared his throat. And smiled. A bright smile.
“Now that I'm up here, I got nothing to say. Thanks, and take care, everyone.”
That was the end of his farewell. It was short, but he looked relieved anyway.
“Prepare for class. Homeroom dismissed.”
With that, Ha Ye-jin left the classroom with Oh Byung-hoon.
The room quickly grew noisy again, just like always. Far from gloomy—in fact, much brighter than usual. Natural, really. Just one kid gone out of so many.
No one except his close friends cared.
I wasn't close to Oh Byung-hoon—hell, we were more like enemies—but for some reason, it left me uneasy. Stifled, dizzy. The unfairness of it all made me want to puke.
“Hoo.”
I made an excuse to Jeong In-ah about going to the bathroom and stepped out.
Breathing the outside air finally eased my mind a bit. I took in the open view of Florence Academy anew. Clear sky with a single white cloud drifting lazily. The hill behind was vividly green. Swish— Leaves rustled in the breeze, flowers in the garden swaying along. Every scene brimmed with the vitality of spring. A sight that cleared the chest right up.
“Do Seon-woo?”
Someone called me then. Oh Byung-hoon. He was fiddling awkwardly with his short hair.
Soon, he grinned wide and spoke.
“It is you. Class is about to start, right? What're you doing here?”
“Heading in soon. You?”
I asked casually back. Oh Byung-hoon didn't answer, just looked around slowly. Like he was taking in every bit of Florence's scenery one last time.
“Just taking a look around. Kinda sad thinking I won't be able to come back here. Got attached and all.”
“Just do well at your new school.”
I tossed it out without thinking. Oh Byung-hoon tilted his head curiously. Then let out an “ah” and laughed there on the spot for a good while. No clue why.
“It was supposed to be a transfer, but actually, I'm dropping out.”
He was still smiling as he said it.
“Huh? Dropping out?”
“That's why I came to Florence in the first place. Wanted to be a holy knight.”
“Then why drop out? You just got in.”
“My right ear's totally fucked. Can't be a holy knight with this body.”
Oh Byung-hoon tapped his right ear with a finger. Hearing damage, probably. I could guess why. That day, getting slapped nonstop by Bae Seong-hyeon.
“So, taking a break till it heals. GED later or whatever.”
“......Yeah.”
I just nodded. Wanted to offer some formal comfort, but my mouth wouldn't move. Maybe he didn't need it anyway. Oh Byung-hoon's face looked happier than ever.
A brief silence fell. The breeze carried the scent of grass.
“Sorry.”
Oh Byung-hoon's apology broke it. The wind had died down.
“Sudden apology out of nowhere.”
“Talking shit behind your back, spreading rumors, all that. Sorry.”
“No need to apologize again. Anyway, nice job on the post.”
He didn't need to apologize to me in the first place. He'd already atoned. Not with words, but with that post.
Last night, it went up on Granche.
The real perpetrator is Bae Seong-hyeon.
Bae Seong-hyeon forced Go Jun-min to post a fake exposé targeting Do Seon-woo.
Bae Seong-hyeon is still committing school violence, beating innocent students, and extorting money.
The author was Oh Byung-hoon. Not anonymous—real name, for credibility. Plus, Kim Jin-seo even left a comment testifying. Thanks to that, the rumor I was the bully was gone. Well, not entirely gone, just quieted down. That was enough.
“What can you do. It didn't even matter.”
But Oh Byung-hoon's courageous exposé hadn't hurt Bae Seong-hyeon at all.
“Kinda, yeah.”
Still, it was enough. I glanced at the sky and took a deep breath. Air thick with grass scent filled my lungs. Spring, but still cool—the winter's lingering trace.
“You gonna head up? Class is starting soon.”
Oh Byung-hoon asked. I checked my phone. About time.
“Yeah, guess so.”
“Alright. I gotta go too.”
That was our last exchange. I headed to class, he to outside the school. The brushing wind was cool yet warm. Ironic, but true.
Back in the classroom. Two seats empty. One Oh Byung-hoon's, the desk looking especially lonely. The other...
Go Jun-min incident: Involvement and fabrication.
Suspected collusion with Satanists.
School violence.
Extortion and other offenses too numerous to list.
No trial verdict yet, but evidence and circumstances clearly indicate guilt. Deemed unfit as Florence's pride and 'Charity Holy Mark' holder.
Charity Holy Mark revoked. Expelled.
— Faculty Meeting Decision
That was the punishment from the faculty meeting for Bae Seong-hyeon, posted huge on the main building bulletin board this morning. His seat was empty now.
I stared blankly at the empty seats.
“Do Seon-woo. These guys have something to say.”
Jeong In-ah approached. Her tone and expression were icy. Arms crossed, leg cocked, standing arrogantly—with three students scurrying behind her. Oh Byung-hoon's crew, the ones who'd badmouthed me.
They couldn't meet my eyes.
“Uh, um.”
One fidgeted with his fingers and spoke first.
“We saw the post. Sorry.”
“That's it?”
Jeong In-ah glared sharply at the trio.
“That's all?”
Thud, thud. She stepped slowly toward them, adding,
It was intimidating even for me watching.
“Talk big behind his back, but face-to-face—”
“In-ah, I'll handle it.”
“Huh? Oh, yeah.”
Jeong In-ah, mid-rant with her cynical tone, went meek at my one word. Still, her glare at the trio stayed sharp. She seemed even angrier than me. Like she was furious on my behalf.
Legba murmured lowly. True enough. But the ones who should apologize aren't them. It's Go Jun-min who posted, and Bae Seong-hyeon who egged him on. Go Jun-min's dead, Bae Seong-hyeon expelled—no apologies needed from them ever.
“It's fine. Go on. Class is starting.”
I smiled and sent them off. Jeong In-ah stared at me like I was nuts.
“What? Why let them go? You said you'd talk to them yourself?”
Her voice trembled. She was seriously pissed. Jeong In-ah got scary when angry. More hot-tempered than you'd think.
“Just glad they came to apologize.”
“Hah. Wow. You... what kind of kid are you?”
Jeong In-ah couldn't continue. Too frustrated to speak.
She sighed deeply for a while, calming down. Still not fully over it, she muttered to herself.
Idiot. Total idiot. And they actually left when he said go. Unbelievable—
Her entire vocabulary seemed to be “idiot.”
After muttering forever, she sighed heavily and spoke.
“......Fine. If you're okay with it.”
Still displeased, but better than before.
“Gu Jun-hyeok's not here.”
I seized the chance while her anger cooled to change the subject. Come to think of it, no Gu Jun-hyeok since earlier. Thought he was just late, but even now, right before class...
“Oh, him. Sick at home. Cold or something.”
“Sick? Him?”
“Can't believe it either. Probably skipping 'cause he hates school. Or not.”
Gu Jun-hyeok with a cold. “Idiots don't catch colds” was bullshit.
“He annoyed me when he was around, but now that he's gone—”
“Sorry!”
Someone cut me off. The trio again. Uncomfortable, back for more apologies.
Really fine, guys.
“I said I'm good.”
“Still. Sorry for doubting you. Must've been tough......”
“I didn't know either, just believed the rumors. ...Sorry.”
One apology sparked a chain. Oh Byung-hoon looked tough but had a soft, kind heart. His crew was similar. Always hanging with him, they picked up his personality.
A bit burdensome, but I smiled and accepted.
“Oh, Byung-hoon said you'd miss him. Saw him outside earlier.”
“Whoa, really? What else? Where's he transferring?”
Mentioning him lit up their eyes with questions. Total lie to break the awkwardness, though. He never said that.
“Dunno. Just asked me to pass it on.”
“Ah...... Yeah. Thanks anyway.”
His friends left with obvious disappointment. He was dropping out, not transferring—better not say it.
“Gonna make friends with them at this rate.”
Jeong In-ah grumbled from the side.
“Friends are good.”
“Mercy me. I just find them infuriating.”
“Infuriating? Why?”
“Badmouthing nonstop behind your back, now apologizing. Shameless.”
I got her feelings. They'd trashed me, fueled rumors blindly. Now, truth out, late apologies. Third-party view: shameless.
“Better late than never.”
Me? Grateful they came at all.
Jeong In-ah's eyebrow twitched. She stared, displeased for ages, then suddenly laughed.
“You... sometimes you're such a total idiot.”
“If I'm an idiot, you're—”
“Yeah? Me?”
“Nothing.”
I backpedaled fast. Gut feeling: stop there.
Jeong In-ah tilted her head.
“What? Why stop? What were you gonna say?”
“Nothing. When's the teacher coming? No class today?”
I switched topics smoothly.
“Yeah, weird. Where is she?”
Jeong In-ah wondered. Then someone burst in the front door.
“Yo! Self-study this period—!”
“Ah, self-study.”
I nodded. After apologies and chat, still no teacher—figured something was up. Self-study. Makes sense.
*
School ended. I headed straight to the worship hall.
Uncle Lee Jin-seong was glued to his phone, staring at dBP stock prices. Eyes misty, nose red.
“Uncle, crying?”
He jolted up. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
“Huh. Why am I tearing up......?”
“Now you're talking nonsense too. Should've sold when I said.”
Uncle wiped with a handkerchief. Eyes still red. Must've been crying since before I came. Guy didn't shed a tear when Dad died. But stocks tank? Bawling. Kinda harsh, but he's a money-mad lunatic.
“Seon-woo. What now? We're fucked......”
“We? Not my money.”
“We are. Sorry......”
Uncle hung his head. Voice weak. Bad premonition hit.
No way. No freaking way. Nah.
“You didn't touch donations or cult funds, right?”
“......”
Uncle just looked at me sadly, smiling. Shit.
From today, in 2 weeks.
If losses aren't covered...
Turn into zombies. Sell as slaves. Recover the loss.
Legba's voice echoed through my hazy mind. Furious tone. Loud enough to sting my head.
I relayed it word for word.
Uncle stared in despair.
“Legba... said that?”
“Pretty pissed.”
“Fuck, what now. Really.”
Uncle tore at his hair, lamenting. He's usually rational, calm. But money? Loses it. Like now.
“But you're good at making money, Uncle. Can cover it quick, right?”
“Well, uh.”
“How much loss?”
I probed. Uncle whispered the amount.
“What. For real? No joke?”
“Who jokes now. Haaa......”
Huge. Wanted to believe it was a prank. Didn't expect this much.
“Hm, zombie sounds fine. Can't cover this.”
Straight talk. Uncle's face twisted in despair.
> Slave markets these days? Or similar.
“No slave markets. Similar... deep-sea fishing?”
> Selling to organ traffickers ain't bad.
“That's too much. Family, after all.”
While I chatted with Legba, Uncle busied himself. Suiting up, hair waxed back, gold-rimmed glasses. Heading out.
“Where to?”
“Phew, 2 weeks. Legba gave 2 weeks, right?”
I nodded. No way to cover that in 2 weeks. Casino jackpot? Maybe. Pure despair. No hope.
Still, Uncle smiled. Had a plan.
“Getting the altar soon. Pick up when I call.”
Uncle hurried up the stairs, out of the worship hall. I watched his back for a while.
Altar.
That's what he said.
(To be continued in the next installment)