Mr. Kyon gestured toward Joonwoo.
"Alright, everyone. We've got a new student joining us today. Transfer from Seoul."
He gave Joonwoo a quick nudge on the shoulder. "Go on, introduce yourself. Don't be shy unless you want them to nickname you 'Silent Transfer.'"
Joonwoo took one step forward.
A few girls students were already whispering.
"He's handsome…"
"He's tall."
"His body's good, look at his shoulders."
From the guys:
"Tch… pretty boy's here."
"Ugh, I was hoping it'd be a transfer girl."
"Think he can fight?"
(Same old routine. Can't blame them though. I do look good.)
He didn't flinch. Just took one step forward, then another, calm and collected. When he reached the center, he bowed politely.
"Hi. I'm Seo Joonwoo. I transferred here from Seoul."
He paused for half a second.
"…I like… ramen."
Dead silence.
Then a kid from the back muttered, "Relatable."
Another followed, "Ramen's solid."
A few chuckles broke the tension.
Joonwoo gave a small, cool smile not too bright, not too forced.
"Pleased to meet you all."
Mr. Kyon clapped his hands once.
"Alright, back to your seats. Open your books if you brought them. If not—well, I'm too tired to care right now."
Some students laughed. Others just grunted and sank into their chairs.
Joonwoo walked toward his assigned seat at the back. His steps slow, deliberate, almost like a stroll through enemy territory. His gaze flicked across the room curious eyes, subtle smirks, a few cautious looks, and one exaggerated wink from a kid chewing gum like a 90s movie delinquent.
He sat down. Leaned back slightly. Glanced outside.
The clouds were moving fast.
(Let's see what kind of chaos this place has for me.)
At the front of the class, Park Jihoon didn't say a word.
He just sat quietly, staring at Joonwoo for a second longer than necessary.
And in the farthest corner of the room, beneath a desk, someone's foot tapped a steady rhythm like a warning. Or a countdown.
It was the kind of sound that didn't draw attention… but once heard, couldn't be unheard.
(He's setting the tempo. Like a hunter before the pounce.)
As Joonwoo took his seat, the foot tapping stopped.
A chair creaked.
From two desks to his left, a figure leaned back with arms crossed behind his head, bubblegum snapping in his mouth. He had a scar above his left eyebrow, his uniform unbuttoned down to his chest, and a bandage on his knuckle. He smirked lazily.
"Where are you from?"
Joonwoo turned toward him.
The guy didn't blink. He just stared like he was already bored of the answer.
"Your face irks me," he said flatly.
For a moment, the class went silent again. Even the page-flipping stopped.
Joonwoo blinked. Then smiled.
"Really? Sorry for that."
He beamed like sunshine after a thunderstorm, tilting his head a bit with the kind of warmth that felt… strange in this school. Too genuine. Too out of place.
The guy squinted, as if offended by the sincerity alone.
"Tch. See you after this. I beat you up."
A few snickers came from the back row. One guy whispered, "Rookie's dead."
Joonwoo just smiled wider.
(Ah… I missed this. This tension. This posturing.)
(In my past life, I would've panicked. Tried to avoid it. But now?)
He turned slightly in his chair and gave a cheerful thumb-up.
"Cool. I'll make sure to stretch."
The gum-chewing kid stared at him, confused for a second—then scowled and looked away.
The foot tapping resumed. Slower this time.
Like a beat... just waiting to drop.
Park Jihoon glanced at Joonwoo again from the front, eyes narrowed.
(That guy's smiling… but something about him feels off.)
Mr. Kyon droned on at the board, already tired of teaching this chaotic class.
But beneath the normalcy…
Something had already begun.
The moment class ended, Mr. Kyon gave a tired yawn and waved them off.
"Try not to set anything on fire while I'm gone. Dismissed."
As the students began packing their things, murmuring and moving around—
THUD.
Seo Joonwoo stumbled forward. A sharp ache hit his thigh. He winced and turned.
A foot lowered back down to the floor.
It was the gum-chewing kid
His name? Kang Daejin. Loud. Arrogant. And already cracking his knuckles with a lazy grin.
"What was that for?" Joonwoo asked, rubbing his leg.
Kang Daejin spat out his gum and sneered.
"That's what you get for flashing that smile like you're above me, punk."
"Really? Sorry for that," Joonwoo replied, still smiling not mockingly, but with a gentle, sunshine vibe.
"I wasn't looking down on you. I was trying to be your friend."
Gasps echoed around the room.
The pink-haired guy at the window muttered,
"Whoa... did he just say that to Daejin?"
A tall guy with long black hair leaned back, watching silently from the back row.
Kang Hayoon, a girl with jet-black hair tied neatly behind her, sighed.
"Another fight… typical Kang Daejin."
Shin Sarang, a bright-eyed girl, covered her mouth.
"Don't hit his face…he's handsome!"
Kang Daejin turned, eyes narrowing at her. A bitter twist curled his lips.
(Tsk... so he already got Sarang's attention? My crush... this pretty boy... I'll never forgive him.)
He glared at Joonwoo with rising spite.
"You think you're funny? Talking about friendship?" he snapped.
Joonwoo's smile didn't falter.
"Seriously, I don't know what you're talking about."
"Then talk about this!"
Fists clenched. A punch flew.
CRACK.
It connected with Joonwoo's cheek. His head snapped sideways. A jolt of pain lit up his jaw as he stumbled back into a desk.
"Augh!"
For a moment, everything slowed.
Joonwoo blinked through the stars dancing in his vision.
And then...
(Is this... what it feels like to get punched?)
(I read about scenes like this... bully attacks, hero stands up... the spark of something deeper—a romanticism fight. A fight for what's right. For someone you care about.)
(But it's easier said than done...)
(I'm scared.)
Kang Daejin loomed in front of him like a shadow—big, built, posture like a boxer.
(Who wouldn't be? Look at him. He's a walking tank.)
Joonwoo stood still.
Then slowly, shakily, he rose to his feet.
His fingers clenched into fists.
And he smiled again but not a soft smile. This one had fire behind it.
(But still... even so...)
(Back when I was David Lee... I yearned for this. I wanted a moment like this. A chance to fight back. To stand up. To prove myself...)
(And now that I have the chance.)
(I will fight.)
Suddenly—
A transparent blue window blinked open in front of his eyes. Only he could see it.
[Romanticism System Activated.]
"The stronger your conviction... the stronger your punch."
Joonwoo's eyes widened.
To be continue