The yard was alive, a chaotic storm of muscles and teeth.Seok-Hyun stood at the edge, silent, his eyes dark red, pupils like pits of fire. Nothing moved him—not the yelling inmates, not the jeering guards.
He didn't breathe fast. He didn't flinch. He didn't speak.He watched, calculating instinctively. Every twitch, every glance, every opening noted in his mind.
Then it happened.
A notorious inmate, known for picking on weaker prisoners, shoved a smaller kid into the wall.The yard laughed. A challenge, a test.
Seok-Hyun moved.
Not like a man.Not like a human.
His feet pounded the ground like a predator stalking prey.His hands became hammers, fists smashing, elbows crushing, knees grinding.
The first attacker didn't even see him coming. A brutal spin, an uppercut to the jaw, then a slam to the concrete that rattled the bones. The second rushed him with a knife. Seok-Hyun caught the wrist mid-air, twisted it until the metal dropped with a clang, and swung the man into the wall.
The fight escalated. Every strike from Seok-Hyun was violent, merciless, animalistic. He ripped, slammed, and battered like a dinosaur fighting for survival, channeling raw power over technique. He didn't feel the pain. He didn't feel fear.
When it ended, three inmates lay broken and gasping. Others circled, staring wide-eyed at the red-eyed boy who moved like a storm.
Seok-Hyun didn't gloat. He didn't smile.He turned, walking back toward the shadows of the cellblock, calm as a grave.
"I don't need friends. I don't need allies. I only need them to fear me."
That night, in the cramped cell, he stared at the ceiling.His eyes, still glowing faintly red in the dark, reflected nothing human.
"Every day… I grow stronger. Every fight… I remind myself why I'm alive. And when the time comes… they will all burn."
The whispers in the yard began. Not about a new kid.About a beast.
A predator that didn't sleep.A predator that didn't bleed.A predator that didn't forgive.