Ken was walking through the lively, tumultuous streets of Seoul, heading toward the train station.
In one hand, his suitcase. In the other, his phone.
Earbuds in, but no music.
No need.
The honking horns, the hurried footsteps, the too-loud conversations…
This urban chaos was more than enough.
But he—right in the middle of all this noise—remained still, unfazed.
He walked at his own pace.
Not slow, not fast.
Just… steady.
He never rushed.
This world was already running fast enough without him.
He had barely crossed a narrow alley when it happened.
Whispers.
Quick conversations.
Glances.
Piercing stares that followed him like shadows.
It was a rhythm Ken Jiheon knew far too well.
For him, it had become routine.
He was used to it. Pretending not to notice.
But their eyes… the way they clung to him…
That weight in the air. It was always there.
Since he was a kid, it had always been the same.
Every time he stepped outside, people looked at him as if he were a circus freak.
Am I a monster?
He had asked himself that question more than once.
But the truth… was something else.
No.
People don't look at monsters like that.
Not with those eyes.
Not with that expression.
Not with such intensity.
It wasn't fear.
Not quite rejection either.
It was… fascination.
As if they were seeing something not meant to exist.
A myth, wandering lost through modern streets.
A fictional character, escaped from some novel or fairytale.
And honestly… they weren't wrong.
It was obvious—painfully obvious—from the first glance.
All you had to do was look at him.
Ken Jiheon was insanely beautiful.
Not just attractive.
Not just handsome.
But unreal.
The kind of beauty you only find in fiction.
Jet-black hair, a perfect blend of waves, soft curls, and smooth strands.
Wild, pushed back—except for two long locks that escaped on either side, falling gently over his forehead.
A magnetic gaze.
Eyebrows sharp as blades.
A flawless jawline.
A face with such perfect symmetry, it was unsettling.
Smooth lips, a soft, delicate pink.
But what truly left no one indifferent…
were his eyes.
Eyes straight out of a fantasy novel.
Crimson ruby red.
One of a kind in this world.
Glowing like gemstones, with an otherworldly shine.
A mutation so rare that even science struggles to explain it.
That gaze—sharp, captivating, nearly hypnotic.
It was easy to get lost in it.
Like being stared down by a fallen angel… or a demon destined to rule.
A gaze coldly aware of its own power.
And his skin—light brown, rare for the region—only made those eyes burn brighter.
A warm, soft complexion, almost golden under certain lighting.
Then there was his build.
Taller, more defined than average.
A naturally striking presence.
A silhouette that demanded attention, even in a crowd.
---
And then…
there was that presence.
That aura.
The kind that didn't leave anyone untouched.
He kept walking—no destination in mind, no attention paid to the world around him.
As if nothing mattered.
And it didn't.
Suddenly, a sharp voice tore through the street like thunder:
"WATCH OUT! THE TRUCK'S OUT OF CONTROL—THE BRAKES ARE GONE!!!"
Screams.
Chaos.
A rumble.
Tires screeching—high, violent, unbearable.
Then—
HONK! HONK!!
A white truck burst from around the corner.
Barreling downhill at full speed.
Unstoppable.
Its tires shrieked.
Passersby screamed.
Some shouted warnings.
By the time Ken noticed…
it was too late.
The white truck was already there.
Right in front of him.
Massive.
Looming.
A wall of death.
He barely had time to process it—
Before it lunged straight at him.
The crowd packed into the alley froze.
Some screamed.
Others turned away, unable to watch.
But then…
Something impossible happened.
---
They say we humans are incapable of using 100% of our bodies' capabilities.
Not because we're weak.
But because our minds are full of locks.
Biological locks.
Psychological locks.
Invisible chains limiting our true power.
Unconscious barriers…
Holding us back from our full potential.
Some people, no matter how much they train or sacrifice,
will never reach it.
Because those locks… run too deep.
But…
There's an exception.
A moment.
A single instant frozen in time.
An event that short-circuits all the locks.
An experience only those who've brushed against death truly understand.
Yes…
You guessed it.
The exception… is death.
Or rather—
a direct encounter with it.
When your life hangs by a thread.
When your heart pounds so violently it might burst.
When your body, pushed to its limits, simply refuses to die…
Then, and only then,
a spark is born.
One lock breaks.
Then another.
And another.
Until they all fall away.
And in that one, precise moment…
The human reveals what it truly is.
What it truly can do.
---
Ken's eyes widened.
And in that instant…
Time stopped.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
Something ignited inside him.
A sixth sense.
Primal.
Instinctive.
His body moved before he could think.
Like an animal reacting on pure survival.
It wasn't just reflex.
It was perfect coordination.
His nerves.
His muscles.
His bones.
Everything aligned.
In just one second—
He flung his suitcase across the street in a single, sharp motion.
Then, without hesitation, he pivoted toward a small tasting table pressed against a store wall.
His foot found its edge.
And with explosive force—
he launched himself backward.
A flip.
A full twist.
Suspended in the air.
His body sliced through the air, soaring above the speeding truck.
An extreme, almost impossible acrobatic feat.
As if ripped straight from an action film.
Beneath him, the truck crashed—full force—into the storefront.
A metallic roar.
Glass shattered.
Then he landed.
Perfectly balanced.
Knees bent.
Unharmed.
Not a scratch.
Not a breath out of place.
He had dodged death. Literally.
---
Silence fell over the alley.
Not a word.
Not a breath.
Only the distant honking,
and the high-pitched alarm of the now-wrecked truck pressed against the wall.
The crowd still struggled to believe what they'd just seen.
Mouths wide open.
Unable to comprehend.
Even the cat across the street had stopped licking its paw—just staring, dumbfounded.
A high schooler had just pulled off something worthy of the Olympic elite.
And instead of screaming, bragging, or collapsing…
He calmly picked up his suitcase.
And kept walking.
Like nothing happened.
The witnesses could only watch him go—
mouths agape,
still stunned by what had just occurred.
---
Soon after, he arrived at Seoul Station.
It stood tall—modern, all glass and steel.
A real showcase of progress.
Inside?
The usual chaos.
Crowds everywhere, just like every morning.
Expected for a city as massive as Seoul.
The sound of footsteps echoed from every wall.
Announcements spilled from speakers nonstop.
Voices overlapped and collided.
A constant storm of noise.
People came and went.
Passing each other in waves.
---
Ken descended the stairs toward the platforms,
almost ready to board.
But a loud crash echoed from a hallway to his left,
forcing him to slow down.
"You bastard! You got a death wish or what?!"
— "I told you to bring cigs when you came!"
— "You really don't care about living, huh…?"