Yongsan High School was larger than Jihoon remembered schools being. Seven years of dungeon breaks and gate emergencies had apparently necessitated reinforced buildings—concrete walls thick enough to withstand C-rank monster attacks, reinforced windows, and emergency shelters in the basement. The architecture screamed "post-apocalyptic educational facility trying to look normal."
Jihoon stood at the school gates in his new uniform—black blazer, white shirt, gray slacks. Seoyeon had bought it yesterday with money she'd loaned him, adding it to his growing debt. The fabric felt strange after years of rotted rags and void-stained leather.
"Remember," Seoyeon had said that morning, adjusting his collar like a worried older sister. "You're a normal freshman who got caught in a dungeon time dilation. You're quiet, traumatized, and trying to readjust. Don't display your stats. Don't even tell anyone you're awakened."
"Just be a regular student," Jihoon had replied. "I understand."
"And don't break anyone."
"I'll try."
Now, standing among the crowd of students flooding through the gates, Jihoon felt more exposed than he ever had in the Void. At least there, the threats were obvious—things with too many teeth or not enough physics. Here, he had to navigate social hierarchies, unspoken rules, and the constant presence of people who had no idea what real danger looked like.
A group of students passed him, laughing about something. Two girls whispered and glanced his way—probably noting the new student. A boy with the telltale confidence of an Awakener strutted past, his uniform somehow fitting better, his movements sharper.
One in ten students were Awakened, Seoyeon had explained. The ratio was higher in schools like Yongsan, which had a reputation for producing quality hunters. Awakened students were treated like celebrities—faster, stronger, destined for lucrative hunter careers while normal students struggled for scraps.
Jihoon walked through the gates and tried not to think about how his "reduced" stats could still crush every Awakener in this building.
First period was Korean Literature. The classroom was standard—thirty desks, a whiteboard, windows overlooking the courtyard. Jihoon had been assigned a seat in the back corner, which suited him fine.
The teacher, Mrs. Han, was a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and the exhausted expression of someone who'd been teaching too long. "Class, we have a new student joining us today. Please introduce yourself."
Jihoon stood up, feeling thirty pairs of eyes turn toward him. "Kang Jihoon. I'm sixteen. I was... displaced by a dungeon anomaly for a while. I'm happy to be back."
Silence. Then whispers.
"Dungeon displacement?
"Is that why he looks so—"
"Must have been hell—"
"Quiet," Mrs. Han said firmly. "Jihoon-ssi, welcome to Yongsan High. I hope you'll find your place here." She gestured for him to sit. "Now, everyone open your textbooks to page forty-seven. We're continuing our analysis of modern Korean poetry..."
Jihoon sat down and opened the borrowed textbook. The words swam on the page—not because he couldn't read them, but because his mind kept drifting. This was supposed to be normal. This was supposed to be his anchor to humanity.
It felt like wearing someone else's skin.
The lesson continued. Students took notes. Someone passed a note to their friend and giggled when the teacher wasn't looking. A boy in the third row dozed off.
Painfully, mundanely normal.
Jihoon forced himself to focus and take notes, even though he'd memorized the entire textbook yesterday.
The bell rang for break, and students immediately clustered into their social groups. Jihoon stayed at his desk, not sure where he fit—or if he wanted to fit anywhere.
That's when they approached.
Three boys, led by a tall student with bleached hair and the swagger that came with either confidence or stupidity. The leader had the distinctive aura of an Awakener—nothing compared to real hunters, but enough to dominate regular high school students.
"Hey, new kid." The leader leaned against Jihoon's desk. "I'm Go Minseok. This is my classroom."
Jihoon looked up slowly. "I was assigned here by the administration."
"Yeah, well, administration doesn't run this room. I do." Minseok's two friends—one stocky, one lanky—flanked him with practiced intimidation. "And in my room, new students pay a... registration fee. Call it tax."
A shakedown. Of course. Some things never changed, even after dungeons reshaped the world.
"How much?" Jihoon asked neutrally.
"Fifty thousand won to start. Then twenty thousand a week for protection."
"Protection from what?"
Minseok's smile didn't reach his eyes. "From me, obviously."
Jihoon stood up slowly. The three boys tensed—he was taller than Minseok by a few centimeters—but then he just reached into his pockets and turned them inside out. Empty except for lint.
"I'm broke," Jihoon said flatly. "I have nothing. No phone, no money, no family.
Minseok's expression flickered—disappointment mixed with calculation. He was trying to figure out if Jihoon was lying or genuinely worthless as a target.
"You got a phone at least?"
"No."
"Damn." Minseok straightened up, looking annoyed. "Fine. But once you get money, you pay double for making me waste my time. Got it?"
"Sure," Jihoon said, sitting back down.
The three boys left, and Jihoon felt the stares of other students who'd been watching. Some looked sympathetic. Most looked relieved it wasn't them.
Seven years fighting eldritch abominations, and he was back to dealing with high school bullies.
The irony would have been funny if it wasn't so pathetic.
Fourth period had just ended when Jihoon's borrowed phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number:
Come to the Student Council room. Third floor, east wing
Jihoon made his way through the crowded hallways, noting the way students parted for certain people—the Awakened ones, mostly, but also those with social clout. He was invisible by comparison, just another transfer student trying to find his place.
The Student Council room was at the end of a quiet hallway. The door had a polished nameplate: Student Council President - Park Seoyeon.
Jihoon knocked once and entered.
The room was more office than classroom—a large desk, comfortable chairs, filing cabinets, and a window overlooking the school grounds. Seoyeon sat behind the desk in her uniform, looking every inch the competent student leader. A boy with sharp features and calculating eyes sat in the chair beside the desk—the Vice President, presumably.
"Kang Jihoon-ssi," Seoyeon said formally. "Thank you for coming. This is Vice President Han Juwon. Juwon, this is the transfer student I mentioned."
Juwon nodded at Jihoon with polite disinterest. "The dungeon displacement survivor. I heard about you."
She stood and headed for a side door that led to a small private office. Jihoon followed, aware of Juwon's eyes tracking their movement.
Once the door closed, Seoyeon's formal demeanor dropped. "How's your first day?"
"I got shaken down for money I don't have."
"That would be Go Minseok. D-rank Awakener, thinks he runs the school because he can bench press a motorcycle." She pulled an envelope from her desk drawer. "Here. I meant to give you this yesterday but forgot. Five hundred thousand won. For food, supplies, whatever you need."
"Seoyeon, I can't—"
"You'll pay me back once you start clearing gates." She pushed the envelope into his hands. "Consider it an investment. Besides, you need to look like a functioning member of society, which means not having empty pockets."
Jihoon took the envelope reluctantly. The debt was growing. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Just survive the next forty-four days until we find an S-rank priest." Her expression softened slightly. "How are you really doing? With the... everything?"
"I'm fine."
"Jihoon."
He looked away. "I spent seven years fighting to survive. High school should be easy. But every time someone laughs or complains about homework, I want to..." He trailed off. "I don't know. It feels wrong. All of this feels wrong."
"That's normal. You're readjusting." Seoyeon leaned against her desk. "Give it time. Or don't. Just don't accidentally kill anyone."
"Come on. Just who the hell do you think I am."
"That's what worries me." She checked her watch. "We should head back.
They returned to the main office where Juwon was reviewing papers with the focus of someone who took his role very seriously. He looked up as they entered.
"All settled?" he asked.
"Yes. Jihoon-ssi just needed some orientation guidance." Seoyeon's professional mask was back in place. "Thank you for your patience."
"Of course, President." Juwon's tone was respectful, but his eyes lingered on Jihoon a moment too long.
Jihoon bowed politely and left.
The hallway outside had several students lingering—mostly boys who looked up immediately when Jihoon exited the Student Council room. Their expressions ranged from curious to hostile.
"That's the new kid?"
"What was he doing with the President?"
"Probably got in trouble already—"
Then Seoyeon emerged behind him, and the whispers intensified.
Park Seoyeon was beautiful in the way that made her untouchable—top student, skilled hunter-in-training, Student Council President, and from a good family. Half the male student body had crushes on her. The other half was too intimidated to try.
Seeing her walk out alongside the nobody transfer student made heads turn.
"Jihoon" she said loudly enough for others to hear. "If you need any other assistance adjusting to school life, don't hesitate to ask the Student Council."
"Thank's Seoyeon" Jihoon replied with appropriate formality.
They walked down the hallway together, maintaining proper distance. Behind them, Jihoon could hear the whispers escalating:
"Did you see that?"
"What were they talking about?"
"Maybe it's just Student Council business—"
"For twenty minutes?"
At the stairwell, Seoyeon paused. "Go ahead. I need to check something with the faculty office."
Jihoon nodded and continued down the stairs. As he reached the landing, he heard a familiar voice from the upper floor:
"That fucking nobody. Who does he think he is?"
Go Minseok. Sounding significantly more aggressive than this morning.
Jihoon kept walking. Not his problem.
School ended at 4 PM. Jihoon had made it through the day without incident—a small victory. He gathered his borrowed materials and headed for the gates, planning to meet Seoyeon at the convenience store two blocks away as they'd agreed.
He was halfway down the street when footsteps echoed behind him.
"Hey! Transfer student!"
Jihoon stopped. Turned.
Go Minseok approached with his two friends, all three of them having changed out of their school uniforms into casual clothes. The leader's expression was dark with anger.
"We need to talk," Minseok said.
"About what?"
"About you and President Park." Minseok's jaw clenched. "What's your relationship with her?"
"She's helping me adjust to school."
"Bullshit. I've seen how she treats transfer students. Professional. Distant. She doesn't spend twenty minutes alone with them." He stepped closer, and Jihoon could smell the anger rolling off him. "What did you do? Threaten her? Blackmail her?"
"Nothing. She's just being kind."
"Kind? Park Seoyeon doesn't do kind to random nobodies!" Minseok's voice was rising. "I've liked her for two years. TWO YEARS. And she barely looks at me. Then you show up—some dungeon-traumatized loser with empty pockets—and suddenly she's all personal attention?"
Ah. There it was. This wasn't about money. This was about jealousy.
"You're misunderstanding the situation," Jihoon said calmly. "There's nothing between—"
Minseok's fist flew at his face.
Jihoon didn't dodge. The punch connected with his cheek with the full force of a D-rank Awakener's enhanced strength—enough to shatter a normal person's jaw.
Jihoon's head barely moved.
Minseok's eyes widened. "What the—"
Another punch. This time to Jihoon's stomach. Then a kick to his ribs. Minseok's friends joined in, emboldened by their leader's aggression.
Jihoon stood there and took it.
Each hit registered—he could feel the impact, the intent behind it—but his reduced stats were still over 300 in most areas. D-rank Awakeners averaged 50-100. Their attacks felt like children throwing pebbles.
Don't cause a scene, Seoyeon had said. Don't reveal your power.
So Jihoon stood there, arms at his sides, and let them hit him. After seven years of being torn apart by eldritch horrors, this was nothing. Less than nothing.
"Why won't you go down?!" Minseok panted, frustration mounting. "What are you?!"
"Maybe he's tougher than he looks—"
"Shut up and keep hitting him!"
They did. For another thirty seconds that felt like an eternity of pointless violence.
Then a new voice cut through the chaos:
"That's enough."
Everyone froze.
Han Juwon, the Student Council Vice President, stood at the end of the alley. His expression was cold, and there was a subtle shimmer in the air around him—mana, barely contained.
"Vice President," Minseok said, immediately stepping back. His friends did the same, creating distance from Jihoon like he'd suddenly become radioactive.
"Go Minseok. D-rank Earth Affinity Awakener. Affiliated with Iron Fist Gym." Juwon's voice was clinical. "Attacking another student off school grounds. That's grounds for expulsion and blacklisting from hunter academies."
"He—he provoked us!"
"Did he?" Juwon looked at Jihoon, who hadn't moved from his position. "Did you fight back?"
"No," Jihoon said.
"Did you even raise your hands to defend yourself?"
"No."
"Then this is clearly a one-sided assault." Juwon turned back to Minseok. "Leave. Now. If I see you near Kang Jihoon again, I'll report this to the Hunter Association as a power abuse incident. Understood?"
Minseok's face went pale. A Hunter Association investigation could end his career before it started. "Understood, Vice President."
The three of them left quickly, shooting venomous looks at Jihoon as they went.
Juwon approached once they were gone. "Are you hurt?"
"No."
"You should be. Minseok might only be D-rank, but he has enough strength to break bones." Juwon studied Jihoon with sharp eyes. "You took at least twenty direct hits without defending yourself. Either you're incredibly stupid, or..."
"Or?"
"You're Awakened. Probably C-rank tank specialization." Juwon circled Jihoon slowly, assessing. "High stamina and defense stats. That's the only explanation for why you're not bleeding right now."
Jihoon said nothing.
"Are you Awakened, Kang Jihoon?"
There was no point denying it. The evidence was too obvious. "Yes."
"Rank?"
"C-rank. Tank." The lie came easily. It was the most logical explanation.
"And you didn't fight back because?"
"I was told not to cause problems." Jihoon met Juwon's eyes. "I'm trying to live a normal life. Fighting would complicate that."
Juwon was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Admirable restraint. Most Awakeners would have retaliated." He pulled out a business card. "The Student Council could use someone with your mindset. We have an opening for a security position—basically, you'd help maintain order during school events and handle any Awakened students who get out of hand. Interested?"
"No."
"No?" Juwon looked surprised. "The position comes with a stipend and looks excellent on hunter academy applications."
"I appreciate the offer, but I need to focus on catching up academically." Jihoon bowed slightly. "Thank you for intervening."
"Suit yourself." Juwon pocketed the card. "But the offer stands if you change your mind."
He started to leave, then paused. "One more thing. President Park seems to have taken a personal interest in your adjustment. That's unusual for her. May I ask why?"
"She's helping me because I'm a dungeon displacement survivor. That's all."
"That's all," Juwon repeated, but his tone suggested he didn't quite believe it.
Jihoon waited until the Vice President was gone before allowing himself to breathe properly. His body had registered every hit—the impacts, the locations, the intent—even if they hadn't done damage. The Void had taught him to catalog every attack, every threat.
Old habits.
He continued walking toward the convenience store where Seoyeon would be waiting.
Han Juwon had intended to go home. He really had.
But something about the situation bothered him. The way President Park had spent so long alone with the transfer student. The way she'd walked with him in the hallway afterward. The way Kang Jihoon had taken a beating without flinching.
C-rank tank, the boy had claimed. Possible, but Juwon had seen C-rank tanks take damage from D-rank attackers. They bruised. They winced. They showed something.
Kang Jihoon had stood there like a statue.
So instead of going home, Juwon followed at a distance.
He watched as Jihoon met President Park at a convenience store. Watched as they bought groceries together—too comfortable, too familiar for a Student Council President and a transfer student she'd just met.
Then they started walking. Not toward the school. Not toward the wealthy district where Park Seoyeon's family lived.
Toward a modest apartment complex in Yongsan's middle-class neighborhood.
Juwon stayed far back, using the crowd as cover. His C-rank Perception stat made it easy to track them without being noticed.
They entered the same apartment building.
Juwon waited across the street, checking his watch. Five minutes. Ten. Twenty.
After an hour, neither had emerged.
A male student and a female student. Entering the same apartment building. Staying there for over an hour.
Understanding dawned on Juwon like cold water.
They're dating.
That explained everything. The private meetings. The personal attention. The comfortable familiarity. President Park—the untouchable, perfect Park Seoyeon—had a boyfriend. A transfer student no one knew about.
It was scandalous. It was dramatic. It was exactly the kind of thing that would cause chaos if it got out.
Juwon pulled out his phone and almost texted someone. Then stopped.
No. This was valuable information. The kind that could be leveraged or used as insurance. The Student Council President having a secret relationship with a mysterious transfer student? That was political capital.
He'd keep this knowledge to himself. For now.
Juwon turned and walked away, his mind already calculating possibilities.
Inside Seoyeon's apartment, Jihoon set the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and immediately felt the day's exhaustion hit him.
"You look terrible," Seoyeon said, already pulling out instant noodles. "Rough day?"
"I got beaten up by a jealous D-rank Awakener who has a crush on you."
"Minseok? Seriously?" She laughed. "How bad was it?"
"Didn't feel it. But I had to pretend to be a C-rank tank to explain why I wasn't injured."
"That works. It's a common enough specialization." Seoyeon started boiling water. "Anyone suspect anything else?"
"The Vice President followed us home."
Seoyeon's hand froze on the pot. "What?"
"Han Juwon. He followed us here. Watched us enter the building. Waited an hour." Jihoon pulled off his blazer and sat down. "He probably thinks we're dating."
"Oh no."
"Is that a problem?"
"Jihoon, half the school wants to date me. If they think you're my boyfriend, your life is going to get significantly more complicated." She rubbed her temples. "We need to be more careful."
"Or we could just tell people the truth—that you're letting me stay here temporarily."
"That's somehow worse. Single male and female student living together?" Seoyeon shook her head. "The rumors would be insane."
"So what do we do?"
"Nothing. Let them think what they want. Just... try not to give them ammunition." She resumed cooking. "And maybe learn to defend yourself a little? Taking hits without reacting looks suspicious."
"Noted."
They ate in comfortable silence, two people orbiting each other's lives out of necessity and circumstance. Jihoon found himself grateful for it—after seven years alone, even mundane dinner conversation felt precious.
"Forty-four days left," Seoyeon said suddenly.
Jihoon looked at his hands. The black veins were slightly more pronounced than yesterday. "Yeah."
"We'll find a priest. Someone who can remove the Void Touch."
"Maybe."
"Definitely." Her tone left no room for argument. "You survived seven years of hell. You're not dying in forty-four days because we couldn't find a solution."
Jihoon wanted to believe her. Wanted to trust that there was a way out.
But the Void was still inside him, eating away at his stats bit by bit. And somewhere in Seoul, the Seven Heroes were living their perfect lives, completely unaware that the ghost they'd tried to bury was sitting in a high school student's apartment, counting down the days until he either got answers or ceased to exist.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]
[VOID TOUCH PROGRESSION: 3% INCREASE]
[CURRENT STATS REDUCTION: 81% OF ORIGINAL VALUES]
[ESTIMATED TIME REMAINING: 43 DAYS, 16 HOURS]
Jihoon dismissed the notification and finished his noodles.
Tomorrow was another day of pretending to be normal.
He could do that.
He'd done harder things.
Across the city, in a luxury penthouse, Lee Seyeon reviewed her schedule for the next week. Hunter team training. Gate clearings. A sponsorship photoshoot. And next Friday—the annual Seven Heroes reunion.
She picked up her phone and sent a message to the group chat:
Reunion confirmed for Friday, 7 PM. Don't be late. We need to discuss the new S-rank gate that appeared in Busan.
Six confirmations came back within minutes.
Lee Seyeon set down her phone and looked at her reflection in the window. Beautiful. Successful. Beloved.
Everything she'd worked for.
She didn't think about the boy with the mechanical bow.
She never let herself think about him.
What was done was done, and the world was saved.
That was all that mattered.