— I'm going to have to go after Mi-Cha.
At those words, Si-woo stopped wrestling with the soggy sandwich in his hands and turned toward his friend. He could keep his lunch money now, but guilt gnawed at him every time he used it—while others were still being shaken down, and Il-seong didn't so much as lift a finger to stop it. Maybe it was foolish, but Si-woo had decided he wouldn't touch that money until the bullying ended. Until then, he would keep forcing down the leftover sandwiches the cafeteria ladies tossed his way—stale, mushy, almost inedible.
He swallowed a lump of wet bread and wilted lettuce, then spoke:
— What are you talking about?
— Jeunk's girl, Il-seong sneered. She struts around like she owns the place. She needs a little lesson.
Si-woo could name plenty of people who deserved a "lesson" more—starting with the one smirking a few feet away oh him.
— She's not Jeunk's girlfriend, he heard himself say.
— Yeah, yeah. His ex. Whatever.
— They never dated…
— Doesn't matter.
Il-seong jumped to his feet, glaring down at him.
— Did you forget what we went through because of that stuck-up princess? Jeunk forced us to play errand boys—flowers, cards, serenades. And if she refused, we paid the price.
But Si-woo remembered differently. Mi-Cha had never refused anything that came from him. Probably her way of shielding him from Jeunk's fists.
— It wasn't her fault, he shot back. She suffered as much as we did.
Il-seong's mocking laugh rose from his throat. Si-woo stood too, fists clenched so tight they trembled. He had never wanted to hit someone this badly. Not even Jeunk.
— Besides, he pressed, jabbing a finger into Il-seong's chest, you already have a girlfriend. Dozens of them, actually.
— So what?
— Then maybe you should focus on them.
Il-seong rolled his eyes and waved it off.
— As long as I spend one night with each, they'll deal with it. Once a week, once a month—it's not that hard.
Si-woo's hands burned with the urge to strike.
— You're a bastard! They don't deserve that!
— Of course they do. They laughed at us when we were kicked around, when we ran to fetch food for the assholes who bullied us. Now it's my turn to laugh. My turn to make them hurt.
— So this is just revenge?
Si-woo shook his head. He couldn't wipe the disgust off his face. He had taken revenge too, but only against the source of his torment—not the bystanders.
— You're just like Jeunk.
— Take that back! Il-seong roared.
He grabbed Si-woo by the collar and tried to slam him down. But Si-woo resisted—stronger than either of them expected. Il-seong swung a fist, and it crawled toward him at a snail's pace.
Si-woo could've dodged easily. But his eyes were fixed on Il-seong's twisted face, warped with hatred. That sight hurt more than the punch itself. Even as he tumbled down the stairs, pain stabbing his back with each step, he felt no fear. Not anymore. Not of threats. Not of fists. Not of anything.
Only disappointment.
— You were supposed to destroy the Sith, not join them. Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness.
Il-seong's lips curled into a cruel grin.
— Don't you think we've outgrown geek references?
For a brief second, an old memory flashed: a Tamagotchi. A fragile creature that grew depending on how it was cared for. Treated well, it became strong and radiant. Neglected, it turned into something monstrous.
This wasn't Il-seong anymore. It was a monster.
Si-woo had failed him. Maybe even the return of the System couldn't fix this. Maybe it was too late.
Il-seong grabbed his things and turned away.
— Stay down, he spat.
Si-woo pushed himself back up.
— I said stay down! That's a piece of advice. If you don't, I won't protect you anymore.
— I don't need your protection.
Il-seong dropped his bag, his food, his jacket. Then he leapt back, twisted midair, and drove another punch toward him. This time, Si-woo ignored everything except the fist itself. Slow. Or maybe… he was fast.
He caught Il-seong's wrist. The force rattled through his arm, but he held firm. Il-seong's eyes widened.
— How… how did you do that?
Si-woo didn't know either. But a blue screen flickered before his eyes:
[Power Acquired: +2 cm height Increase]
Interface ? he thought.
No response.
Impossible. The System had been stripped away. Unless… the powers he'd gained never truly left him.
Il-seong wrenched free, stumbling back several meters.
— You'll regret this!
And then he vanished.
He's using his powers… against me?
Anger gave way to cold disappointment. Si-woo drew inward, reaching for the strength buried deep inside.
I gave you those abilities, Il-seong. And I have every right to take them back.
He activated Mirror just as Il-seong's blade came down. The weapon recoiled, smashing into its wielder's skull. Dazed, Il-seong staggered, clutching his head. Si-woo closed the distance in a blur, faster than sight, and seized him by the waist—just like Dr. Kim had once done.
[Power Acquired: Skill « Stealth » Lv.1]
[Power Acquired: Skill « Hunt » Lv.2]
[Power Acquired: +10% Strength]
[Power Acquired: +10% Endurance]
The notifications flooded his vision, blinding him. Il-seong slammed an elbow into his ribs and staggered away, sword raised. His gaze was hollow, locked on the empty space where his abilities used to be.
— You too? No! You—
But he never finished. He bolted, disappearing without a trace. That was the last time Si-woo ever saw him. Il-seong never came back to school.
And Si-woo was left with questions.
Why had Il-seong changed?
Why did Si-woo still retain his powers, even after losing the System?
The locker room door opened again. The shift in the air dragged Si-woo back to the present.
Magical Smile entered, her aura blazing like the sun. Everyone greeted her with reverence—even Mi-Cha. Si-woo only gave a curt nod. She wasn't the one he'd come to see.
No. His eyes were on the cold-faced girl just behind her. Eun-Ji.
She was the master of Magical Smile. Si-woo was certain of it.