The rooftop of J High was supposed to be quiet. A place for smoke breaks, lazy naps, or whispered confessions.
Instead, it felt like a battlefield waiting for fire.
Seong Min leaned against the chain-link fence, one hand in his pocket, the other idly twirling a pen. His violet gaze—Insight active—scanned every shift in posture, every twitch of muscle.
Gun Park stood across from Goo Kim, the two men exuding such overwhelming presence that the air felt heavy. Neither moved yet, but already the concrete trembled with anticipation.
It had started with words, like most of their fights.
"You're dumping the collection rounds on me again," Goo said, voice sharp but playful, the grin on his face edged with annoyance. "I'm not your errand boy, Gun. If you've got time to babysit Charles's new toy"—his eyes flicked toward Seong Min—"then you've got time to do your share."
Gun's smile was lazy, dangerous. "And if I don't?"
"Then maybe I remind you I'm not scared of you," Goo shot back. His jacket fluttered in the breeze, hands flexing as if itching to grab something—anything.
Seong Min exhaled quietly. Here it comes.
The clash of Gun and Goo wasn't new. In canon, they'd fought dozens of times, their rivalry both destructive and weirdly cooperative. But watching it firsthand was like standing between two colliding storms.
"Don't get the wrong idea." Gun's grin widened. "I don't mind sharing the load. But Charles needs eyes on certain… variables." His head tilted toward Seong Min. "I can't trust anyone else with that."
Goo snorted. "So I take the dirty work while you play babysitter. Great deal." He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders. "Nah. Not this time. If you want me to sweat, you're sweating too."
Gun didn't answer. He just stepped forward once.
The rooftop creaked under the pressure.
Seong Min's Insight flared. Every shift of balance, every angle of tension mapped itself in his mind like geometry. Goo's stance was deceptively loose, almost lazy—yet every joint ready to explode into motion. Gun, on the other hand, was taut coiled steel, economical, lethal.
Two monsters.
And they were about to go all out.
"Fine," Gun said, voice low. "Let's settle it here."
The grin that split Goo's face was feral. "Music to my ears."
Then they moved.
It was less fight, more natural disaster.
Goo lunged first, the rooftop railing groaning as his foot launched him forward. His fist arced in wide, unorthodox motion, like a whip cracking sideways. Gun slipped past it like a shadow, countering with a knee aimed at Goo's ribs.
The impact rattled the fence. Goo blocked with his forearm, grinning even as the skin reddened. "That's it? You're rusty, Gun."
Gun didn't reply—he simply let his elbow snap upward, grazing Goo's jaw with bone-crushing precision.
Seong Min didn't flinch. He tracked everything. The angles. The rhythm. The way Goo's irregular movements broke conventional counters, forcing Gun to adapt instantly. The way Gun's strikes carried such economy that even blocked blows caused damage.
They were holding back. He could tell. Their breathing hadn't even shifted yet. But the rooftop already looked like a storm zone. Hairline cracks formed where feet stomped down, air pressure popping with every collision.
If they went serious…
The school itself might collapse.
Goo laughed through the clash, twisting to hook Gun's leg, trying to drag him down. Gun planted firm, lifted, and nearly hurled Goo like a sack of rice. Goo rolled, rebounding with impossible flexibility, jacket flaring.
"See, this is why I stick around." His grin widened. "Beats collecting rent."
"Then stop whining," Gun shot back, finally smirking in return.
Their fists collided midair, the shockwave ringing like thunder.
Seong Min's pen snapped between his fingers. He hadn't realized he'd been squeezing.
This… this wasn't just a fight. It was a reminder. These were the monsters who shaped the underworld. Titans who bent reality with brute force. And yet, even as awe surged in him, his Insight whispered: weaknesses.
Goo's reliance on unpredictability left patterns if observed long enough. Gun's perfection made him predictable in its own way—his efficiency was his rhythm.
They weren't invincible. Not untouchable.
I can use this, Seong Min thought, eyes gleaming. Even kings bleed when the board is tilted.
But before the clash could escalate further—before either side decided to peel back the restraints—
The rooftop door slammed open.
Crystal Choi stepped through, heels clicking against the concrete. Her expression was ice, her presence cutting sharper than the wind.
Both Gun and Goo froze—not in fear, but in irritation. They knew what her presence meant.
"That's enough," Crystal said, her voice carrying authority not of volume, but of bloodline. "Father sent me."
Gun's smirk faded. Goo clicked his tongue.
Seong Min tilted his head. So Charles really was watching this closely. Even here, on a school rooftop. He didn't need cameras when he had his daughter as his blade.
Crystal's gaze slid briefly toward him, eyes narrowing just slightly—as if to say you saw too much. Then she turned back to the two monsters.
"You two destroying school property doesn't amuse Father. Nor does wasting energy on pissing contests. Consider this your warning."
Silence hung.
Then Goo sighed dramatically, brushing dust from his jacket. "What a buzzkill. Just when we were getting warmed up."
Gun exhaled through his nose, shoulders loosening. "Another time, then."
Seong Min could still feel the static in the air, the tremors left by their unfinished clash. Monsters forced back into cages, not by strength, but by the leash of Charles Choi.
And he filed it all away. Every movement. Every weakness. Every crack in the facade.
Because someday, he'd need that knowledge.
For now, though, he slipped the broken pen into his pocket and offered Crystal the faintest smile.
"Good timing," he said softly.
Her eyes lingered on him for a second longer than necessary, unreadable. Then she turned, as if dismissing all three of them.
The rooftop was quiet again.
But the silence felt like a countdown.
End of Chapter 6