Wind was rustling faintly through the wide parking lot behind Ducci Mall, carrying the stench of blood, smoke, and the iron scent of sweat. Dozens of bodies lay scattered—unconscious, groaning, or too afraid to move. At the center, Yejun lay collapsed in Ji-ho's arms, lifeless and bloodied, like a warrior who had fought to the end.
Just moments ago, Ryu Ji-seok, Pipik High's Rank 3, had walked away victorious, wearing a cocky grin, believing the fight was over.
But fate had another plan.
Ping!
Far away, inside a quiet apartment lit only by the moonlight through the windows, a glowing notification screen suddenly flickered into life in front of Eun-ak, who was staring at his quest log.
[ Yejun's Potential has started to crash.]
[Congratulations! Yejun's Potential has awakened — Epic Class Unlocked.]
"What…?" Eun-ak frowned, confused. "Why am I getting this…? Yejun?"
He tried to dismiss the screen, but it wouldn't go away. The words blinked in bright gold, alive with power. His instincts screamed that something had changed — dramatically.
—
Back in the parking lot…
Ryu Ji-seok turned his back on Yejun, smirking and brushing imaginary dust off his red jacket. "Tch. Should've stayed down. What a waste of time."
But—
A crackling sound echoed behind him.
A footstep.
Then… another.
"What—?"
He froze.
Slowly turning his head, his eyes widened.
Yejun… was standing.
Blood ran down the side of his mouth. His shirt was ripped, his ribs clearly bruised, but his eyes — his eyes glowed faintly with an eerie, golden fire. His breathing was sharp. Focused.
Yejun pulled a crumpled cigarette from his pocket, stuck it between his lips, lit it with shaking hands — and took a slow, deep puff.
"You said it's over?" he murmured.
His voice was low. Almost lifeless.
Then he raised his gaze — locking eyes with Ryu.
Cold. Unshaken. Merciless.
Ryu scoffed. "You're joking, right? You're going to try again? You can barely stand."
Yejun exhaled a puff of smoke.
Then he vanished.
BOOM!!
A sonic blast erupted in the air.
Before Ryu could react — a fist drove into his stomach like a warhead. His body bent in half.
"GAK—!!"
Ryu's eyes bulged. A second punch followed immediately — an uppercut under the chin that launched him into the air like a ragdoll.
CRASH!!
He slammed back-first into a parked car with such force the metal crumpled like paper. The windshield shattered. Alarms blared. His body bounced off and hit the pavement with a harsh crack.
He wasn't moving.
Yejun stood where Ryu had once been, smoke trailing from his cigarette, his fists clenched so hard the bones cracked. His body radiated a strange aura — like flames without fire. Heat without color.
Something had changed.
The remaining 20 Pipik High students, who were frozen watching their undefeated Rank 3 get manhandled in two punches, began to back away.
Yejun turned his gaze to them.
"...You're next."
The first one tried to run.
Too late.
Yejun appeared in front of him in a blink — elbowed him in the temple, and sent him spinning into the wall.
Another swung a metal bat. Yejun ducked, lifted the boy by the collar, and threw him into three others like bowling pins.
Three jumped on his back — trying to choke him.
Yejun grabbed one by the throat, yanked him over his shoulder, and slammed him head-first into the ground.
He spun, striking with his elbows, knees, fists — every motion flawless.
It wasn't boxing anymore. It was something else — instinctive. Evolved.
Within minutes, the lot was silent.
Only Yejun remained standing — chest rising, fists still clenched, smoke still rising from the half-burnt cigarette in his lips.
Ji-ho stared from the corner, speechless. "Y-Yejun… you…"
Yejun didn't answer.
He slowly turned his back on the wreckage and walked toward the lot's exit, never looking back.
The battlefield behind him… a graveyard of defeat.