I walked up to the side of the plain, three-story building, its windows reflecting the overcast sky. It was the Art Studio. I'd been waiting for a text to confirm where the meeting would be.
The moment I stepped inside, he was already there, leaning against a table.
"I texted you ages ago! You're late!" he complained, but I could tell he wasn't truly upset.
"I came as fast as I could," I replied, trying to catch my breath. "Okay, let's see the book."
He slid a dark-covered ledger toward me on the table. "Here."
As I opened it, flipping through the pages of names and numbers, I couldn't help but ask. "Hey, just out of curiosity... what made you become a loanshark...?" I looked at him, noticing how he was dressed like a typical student, not a tough guy.
He shrugged. "I'm trying to make tuition money for university. I don't have anyone to help me out financially. Not that I'm complaining. I'm happy to help out and make some money on the side."
He was just a kid, a Thief as the ledger's annotation labeled him, and I was just another student looking to make a quick buck as a Loanshark. We were an unlikely duo.
"Which university are you hoping to get into?" he asked, propping his head up with his hand.
"Cool…" he murmured when I told him. "I wanna go to law school."
"Law school? You wanna be a lawyer or something? Catch some bad guys?" he teased.
I stared down at the open book, my thoughts turning dark. "…I want to go into law and make a lot of money. I want to get away from my crappy life. Catching bad guys? There's tons of other people who want to do that... If I had the power to put anyone in jail…" I paused, feeling my hand begin to tremble as I thought of one specific person.
He saw the intensity in my eyes. "I can only think of one person. Otherwise, I couldn't care less."
"Who's that?" he asked.
I pushed the sliding door shut, a cold realization crossing my face.
The Art Studio
Just a little later, I looked up at the young man who had just delivered a message. He looked worried.
"You said you left it in the Art Studio, right?" he asked me. "I'll pick it up and drop it off for you."
"Mmmhmm, okay. Bye," I managed to say, my mind still preoccupied with what had just happened.
I watched him go, but before he could leave, a sudden thought struck me, and my eyes widened in alarm. I had left something behind—the one thing that would expose everything.
He walked over to the Art Studio entrance, sliding the door. "Oh, the door is open. I guess he forgot to lock it."
With a soft step, he entered the room, completely unaware of the dangerous path he was now walking.
I walked into the dark room, the silence of the Art Studio settling around me. I held my breath, clutching the loan ledger to my chest. I scanned the room, my eyes adjusting to the low light filtering in from the windows.
"Ah, here it is," I whispered, spotting my lost phone lying on one of the work tables. I reached out for it, a sudden HICC escaping me. I was jumpy, and the quiet room seemed to amplify every tiny sound.
A faint THUD echoed from the shadows of the room. I froze, my body rigid. I looked over my shoulder toward the sound, my heart pounding in my ears.
"?"
I listened intently. The silence returned, thick and absolute.
"Maybe I'm just hearing things…" I tried to rationalize.
I turned back to the table, ready to grab my phone and leave, but as I did, a flicker of movement caught my attention. In the periphery of my vision, near the back wall, I saw a figure. I spun my head to look, but it was just a ghostly outline of a person, holding a book, standing impossibly still.
HMMMM. I stared for a moment before I forced myself to TURN away, dismissing the strange sight as a trick of the light in the dark studio.
Just as I took a step, a hand suddenly clamped over my mouth, a strong arm pulling me back and down. I dropped to the floor, the ledger sliding across the wood.
"SHUT UP!!" a furious whisper hissed next to my ear. It was him.
We were huddled together under a table, our limbs tangled as we tried to be silent. I elbowed him in the ribs.
"What's our homeroom teacher doing in the Art Studio?!" I mouthed furiously, pointing toward the shadowy figure I had just seen.
He glared back. "How am I supposed to know?!"
We both listened, our breathing shallow. We saw the shadow move, its footsteps soft but clear. It began to tap its foot impatiently on the floor—TAP TAP TAP.
My partner looked over at me, his eyes wide with fear. I looked back, my finger pressed to my lips.
A few moments later, the sliding door rattled and then closed with a muffled SLIDE, followed by the satisfying THUD of a lock clicking into place.
I leaned back, letting out a shaky sigh—PHEW.
I finally let myself breathe. "Thank God all the lights were off in here. We almost got caught because of Jaeeo…."
I glared at him and PINCHED his cheek hard. "We almost got caught because of YOU!!"
"Owwww, s-stop!" he yelped, rubbing his stinging cheek.
"Oww, my mouth... I let you get away with too much," I said, trying to regain my composure. "Stop being such a baby." I got to my feet, brushing the dust from my skirt.
"Anyways, we shouldn't meet in the Art Studio anymore… in case this happens again…" I suggested.
He nodded quickly. "Then let's meet behind the school kids don't really hang out."
We both grabbed the ledger and made our escape, leaving the dark, unsettling Art Studio behind us, its secrets—and the person who had almost caught us—remaining in the shadows.
After our near-miss in the Art Studio, we sat across from each other, finishing our transaction in a quieter corner of the school.
"Then stop stealing stuff… and start studying," I told him, looking him straight in the eyes. "If you become a useful person…"
He blinked, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face. "…I might need you again once we're grown up."
A genuine smile touched my lips. "Then we'll definitely cross paths one way or another. With all that said, if we never cross paths, I guess that's fate."
He let out a short, nervous laugh. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?"
I stared at him for a long moment, watching the uncertainty in his eyes.
I don't know what led me to think of that day—today of all days.
The Verdict
The sterile courtroom was a stark contrast to the dusty art studio. I sat there in a gray prison uniform, staring at the seal of the District Court. My heart was a slow, pounding drum against my ribs.
I had failed. I had not become the person she suggested.
I looked at the judges sitting above me, my mind racing. Will I ever have the chance… to become a useful person to her…? The question was a heavy, hopeless weight in my chest.
"Please be seated," the clerk announced.
The head judge cleared his throat. "The Court, having heard the evidence… the jury finds the defendant guilty…"
My eyes were locked on the judge, but all I could hear was the echo of my past.
"…are hereby sentenced to… three years in jail and five years of probation."
The finality of the words crashed down on me. I tried to stay composed, to hold my gaze steady, but I couldn't. A single tear escaped, running a hot, shameful path down my cheek. Then another. I was a failure, and now a criminal, just a thief paying the price.
A Glimpse of Fate
Years later, the fluorescent lights of the Hospital hallway were blinding. I sat hunched over, waiting.
Finally, someone emerged. A stern-faced man I didn't know approached me. He spoke a name that wasn't my own, the one I had left behind.
"Ajin… you've been discharged. Let's get you home."
I looked up, dazed, and saw her. She was older, her dark hair longer, her expression cool and reserved. I was waiting for someone. I was waiting for her, because despite the years, I knew she was the only one I could depend on.
She looked at me, her expression unreadable.
"Okay…" I whispered, standing up slowly.
She took a step back, maintaining a careful distance. "Are you sure you don't want to get on a taxi?"
I shook my head, my eyes fixed on her face. I knew our paths were linked now. Whether through law or crime, poverty or wealth, fate had brought me back to her.
I walked beside the man who had come to collect me. The cold air felt fresh after the stale hospital atmosphere. I was still recovering from my recent troubles, marked by the bandage covering my cheek.
"Yeah, I want to walk. It sucked to be stuck in the hospital," I muttered. I was still focused on my appearance. "Hey, do you think the cut on my cheek will leave a scar…? I'm worried."
He leaned in close, his voice reassuring. "I asked the doctor and she said it should be okay as long as you put ointment on it every day. Once in the morning, once in the evening."
As we continued down the sidewalk, the ordinary sights and sounds of the city returned. Suddenly, a panicked cry cut through the low MURMUR of the crowd.
"OH MY GOD!! MY PURSE!!!" a woman shrieked. "THIEF!! THIEF!!"
A shadowy figure wearing a mask sprinted past us, clutching a maroon purse.
"SOMEONE HELP ME!! THIEF!!" the woman cried, pointing after him.
The man beside me stopped dead. "Whoa, what?" he asked, looking around. People around us started to MURMUR, "So scary…"
Without a word, the man beside me bolted. His movements were quick and focused, leaving me behind.
"STOP RIGHT THERE… YOU A**HOLE!!!" he roared, lunging forward.
The thief tried to weave away, but the man twisted his body, executing a perfect KICK that connected with the thief's stomach.
"TWIST" the man's leg went, and the thief cried out, "AAAAHHHH!"
The masked thief flew backward and crashed hard onto the concrete. "URGHH..." he groaned.
The man who had been with me also lost his balance, falling to the ground with a loud CRASH!
"OWW..." he muttered, recovering quickly.
I stared at the scene, frozen. My companion, the man who was meant to take care of me, had just taken down a thief.
The woman who had been robbed rushed over, ecstatic. "HA! SERVES THAT THIEF RIGHT!!!" she cheered. She quickly grabbed her purse.
Suddenly, a young man wearing an apron that read XANADU dashed out of a nearby cafe, rushing towards the man who had fallen.
"A-are you okay, BOSS?!" he cried, kneeling down. "I can't believe you dashed out of the cafe like that… to catch the purse thief!"
I realized then that this man wasn't just my escort; he was a cafe owner, and a shockingly capable one at that. He waved his hand, dismissing the concern.
The thief, still dazed on the ground, was quickly subdued. The cafe worker, after ensuring his "Boss" was okay, turned to the thief, and began to forcefully STOMP on his arm in a surprisingly aggressive move.
"You've got to stop running after thieves like that, Boss! They could be dangerous, you know!" the young worker exclaimed, his smile wide as he delivered another kick.
I simply watched, a faint smile touching my lips. My fate was tied to someone who might not be a lawyer, but who was certainly good at taking down bad guys.
I watched, stunned, as my companion's cafe employee aggressively dealt with the subdued thief. The "Boss," meanwhile, was being helped to his feet.
"Hey Boss, are you okay? Did you hurt your back?" the employee asked, concern quickly replacing aggression as he helped his employer up.
The man smiled warmly, pushing the helper's hands away. "It's nothing… I'm fine." He turned and met my gaze, his eyes bright and reassuring.
I simply stared back. The man who had been the youthful, nervous loan shark, now a competent cafe owner, was looking at me. He was a useful person now, just as I had jokingly suggested he become years ago. He had changed, but that spark of reckless courage was still there.
The commotion on the sidewalk began to subside as the police were called, and the initial excitement faded back into the everyday MURMUR of the city.
The cafe employee looked at me and then back at his Boss. The Boss put his arm around my shoulder, guiding me away from the lingering scene.
"Let's go, Ajin."
I leaned into his side, allowing him to lead me. "Okay..."
As we walked away, the familiar warmth of his presence felt different now. We were no longer two students engaged in petty crime, but two adults with scars, both visible and invisible, navigating a new path.
I looked at his profile, thinking about the younger version of him—the high school kid trying to hustle for university tuition.
If I hadn't run into that man that day… I thought, my mind drifting to the student he once was.
…I bet his life would have turned out to be completely different.
But fate, as I had once said, had crossed our paths. He may not have become a lawyer, but he had become a hero, a Boss, and perhaps, someone who could still help me escape my own past. We were together, walking side by side, leaving the wreckage of our youth behind us.
This concludes the novel expansion based on the provided images. The man (who was the high school "thief") has now become a capable, if slightly reckless, cafe owner ("Boss"), and he is taking care of the narrator ("Ajin").
Given this, and the intense ending with the man holding a bloody baseball bat and saying, "THAT'S TOO BAD.," the story needs a final, darker conclusion that reflects these thematic titles. The final expansion will reveal the dark fate of the initial "thief" who became a "Boss."
The Monster's Requiem
I watched him walk away, his arm around me, smiling brightly, dismissing his cafe worker's worries. He was happy. He was proud of catching a petty thief. He was trying to be good.
If I hadn't run into that man that day… I bet his life would have turned out to be completely different.
But I did run into him. We were bound by the ledger, by the dirty little secret of our high school days, and by my own desperation. My desire to use the law to lock up a single person—the person responsible for my injuries, for my hospitalization—had been a seed of darkness.
That very seed, I realized, was what had kept me from getting caught in the Art Studio years ago. When I saw the teacher's shadow, I had slid the door shut, creating a brief, frantic silence. A silence that saved us.
But I hadn't just closed the door. I had noticed the old, heavy metal lock lying on the floor. I had instinctively put my foot on it, just as the teacher paused outside. It was a momentary, calculated move, fueled by the primal fear of exposure.
The person I wanted to see jailed was not the thief we just caught, nor the man by my side, but the Homeroom Teacher who had been in the Art Studio. The one who was truly the monster.
My focus on revenge had blinded me to the fact that the law was not the fastest path, nor the most satisfying. I was tired of being a victim; I had to become the force of justice myself. My goal was simple: DO NOT PROVOKE me, or I become THE HEARTLESS MONSTER.
I squeezed the hand of the man beside me. He turned, his smile fading slightly at the intensity in my eyes.
"I have to go," I told him. "There is something I have to take care of. Something I should have dealt with years ago."
He looked worried, but nodded. "I'll wait for you back at the cafe, then."
"No," I corrected, a cold finality in my voice. "You won't."
I broke away from him, my face a mask of determination. I was heading back to the art studio. I knew where the teacher lived. I knew how he liked to walk home after dark.
The final image, however, was not one of my justice.
It was of the man by my side, my partner, the ex-thief, standing alone in a black void.
He was wearing the clothes he had run away in, his jeans stained dark with fresh splatters. He was holding a baseball bat, heavy and white, the blunt end dripping crimson.
He looked down at the bat, then slowly lifted his head, a single, devastating line of dialogue hanging in the air.
"THAT'S TOO BAD."
I had escaped my crappy life, but he had not. He had gone to jail because of one bad choice. And now, seeing the woman he cared for—me—walk toward an act of certain self-destruction, he knew he couldn't let me fall back into the darkness. He would take on the mantle of THE HEARTLESS MONSTER for me, believing it was the only way to save my life, even if it damned his own. The price of my freedom was his final sacrifice.