The hallways of J High buzzed like a marketplace of predators. Here, fists carried more authority than teachers, and everyone knew it.
Gun Park walked ahead with his casual, unbothered swagger. The kind that said try me and die. Naturally, the crowd parted around him.
Seong Min followed a step behind, hands in his pockets, the faint violet flicker of his Insight hidden. Nobody noticed him—exactly how he preferred it. Gun was the storm, the obvious threat. Seong Min was the shadow, quietly taking notes.
Alright, let's check the roster, he thought, letting the Eye of Insight hum open.
His vision sharpened. Threads of intention, posture, micro-expressions—he read them like code.
That tall kid with bleached hair near the lockers? Jaw clenched, hand twitching toward his pocket. A new smoker, desperate to look hard. Easy to break.The group of three shaved heads near the stairwell? They barked like dogs when someone bumped them. A joke to most, but Seong Min recognized the pattern: wannabe recruits imitating God Dog. A pathetic knockoff… but still a sign.
He smirked. So the puppies are already sniffing around. Timeline's shifting faster than canon.
And then he spotted a familiar name tag: Duke Pyeon.
The chubby kid sweated bullets just tying his shoelaces, practically vibrating with nerves. A punching bag waiting to be used. But Seong Min's lips curved. Underrated. If I play him right, Duke can be more than comic relief. Loyal, desperate to belong… he could be a knight on my board.
"Why are you smiling?" Gun's low voice cut in.
Seong Min shrugged. "Just thinking about how many idiots are lining up to get broken today."
Gun chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Then let's not disappoint them."
Before Seong Min could reply, a ripple passed through the hallway. Like royalty had entered.
Crystal Choi.
Flanked by two quiet attendants, she strolled past like the school was her runway. Every gaze followed her, half in awe, half in fear.
She didn't look at Gun. She looked at Seong Min.
That pause—half a second, but stretched longer through Insight—told him everything. She had already noticed his calmness, his refusal to orbit around Gun like everyone else.
"Gun. Seong Min." Her tone was cool, clipped. "My father wants to see you both after school."
A hush spread through the hall. Everyone knew who her father was. Charles Choi didn't "want to see" people casually.
Gun's grin widened. "Sure."
Seong Min inclined his head, no words. Just acknowledgment.
Crystal's gaze lingered one beat longer on him before she moved on, her presence leaving whispers in her wake.
So it starts already, Seong Min thought. Charles is moving pieces early. Which means crews will move early too.
Classes blurred. Seong Min didn't need lectures—he needed the lay of the board. Big Deal, playing Robin Hood with fists. Hostel, a twisted hierarchy preying on weakness. Workers, building their corporate empire of crime. God Dog, fractured but savage.
And above them all, Charles Choi.
Seong Min doodled chess pieces in his notebook.
Gun = Queen. Overpowered but predictable.Crystal = Rook. Linear, powerful, but bound by her father's walls.Big Deal = Knights. Unpredictable, loyal, reckless.Workers = Bishops. Cutting angles, dangerous if ignored.God Dog = Pawns. Numerous, savage, expendable.
And himself?
I'm the player. The one who decides how this game unfolds.
At lunch, Gun had a crowd orbiting him already. Some wanted to test themselves, others just wanted proximity to power.
Seong Min, meanwhile, sat with Duke, who stared at his tray like it had betrayed him.
"S-so… uh… Seong Min, right?" Duke stammered.
"Yeah."
His Insight flickered—layers of insecurity, crushed self-worth, desperate hunger for validation.
"You get bullied often?" Seong Min asked bluntly.
Duke froze, chopsticks clattering. "…Sometimes."
"Good. Don't hide it. Own it. You'll flip the board one day if you survive."
Duke blinked like he'd just been handed divine scripture. "F-flip the… board?"
Seong Min smirked. "You'll get it eventually."
Across the cafeteria, Crystal sat at her own table, untouched food in front of her. Watching again—subtle, but not at Gun. At him.
Seong Min let her see the faintest smirk. A private challenge.
Her eyes narrowed.
The game was on.
After school, a sleek black car waited at the gates. Inside: Charles Choi.
Immaculate suit. Calculating eyes. Smile that never reached them.
"Gun. Seong Min," he greeted smoothly. "I trust J High treated you well on your first day."
Gun leaned back lazily, but Seong Min noticed the faint tightening of his jaw. Even Gun respected the power Charles radiated—a suffocating kind of authority.
Charles's gaze shifted to Seong Min. A beat longer than necessary.
"You're quieter than your brother. Observant. I like that."
Seong Min didn't blink. "Observation's the first step to winning."
Charles's smile sharpened. Approval, hidden in the curve of his lips.
"Good. Then you'll both understand why I'm entrusting you with a task."
He slid a file across. Photos spilled out—faces Seong Min already recognized. Wannabe crews. Recruiters.
One page stood out.
A group calling themselves Dog Pound. Delinquents in cheap masks, barking, posturing. Their leader styled himself Alpha Dog, claiming he'd revive God Dog's legacy. A clown act now… but enough noise to draw attention.
"Identify them. Test them. Break or recruit them as necessary," Charles said, voice smooth as silk but heavy with command. "J High is… a testing ground. Consider this your first move."
Gun's grin widened. "Finally. Something fun."
Seong Min closed the file, Insight flickering violet.
The pieces are moving faster than canon. Big Deal, Hostel, Workers, God Dog—they'll all feel the ripples. And I'll be at the center, shaping the board.
He met Charles's gaze. "Understood."
Charles's smile deepened. "Excellent. Let the game begin."
End of Chapter 3
End of Chapter 3