The ambulance showed up fast, sirens cutting through the quiet neighborhood.
The woman who had saved him, some stranger whose name Jaeho would never know, kept screaming for help until lights started popping on in the apartments nearby. People came out with their phones, some calling the cops, others just gawking at the unconscious kid bleeding all over the pavement.
But they had enoug sense to not record the moment.
The paramedics got to work and applied pressure on the gash splitting his forehead open. One of them flashed a light in his eyes as they tried to stablize him.
"He's breathing. Pulse is steady. Possible concussion. We need to move him now," one paramedic said quickly.
They hoisted him onto a stretcher, locked the straps down, shoved him into the ambulance before driving away.
"I don't know his name," she told them, trying her best to give them as much information as she could before they left as she added. "I don't know who he is. But I saw what happened. Three boys. They had a bat. They just kept hitting him."
The ambulance tore through the streets, lights on, siren ringing. Jaeho stayed out cold, his head wrapped in gauze already soaking red.
-
At the hospital, they wheeled him straight into emergency room to make sure there were no brain injuries.
Doctors and nurses swarmed him, scissors cutting away his blood soaked shirt, checking his injuries.
The head wound looked brutal, scalp wounds always bled like hell, but they needed to make sure there weren't fractures, internal bleeding, or worse, brain damage.
"Get me a CT scan. Now," the lead doctor barked at one of the nurses.
They rolled him down the hallway, through automatic doors, into the imaging room. The machine hummed and clicked, scanning his skull from every angle.
Thirty minutes crawled by before the results came back. No skull fracture. No brain bleed. Severe bruising at best, possible mild concussion.
It was painful as hell. Scary but not critical.
The doctor stitched up the gash on his forehead, twelve stitches total, and wrapped fresh white bandages around his head and pumped him full of painkillers.
"You're lucky," the doctor said quietly. "A few more inches to the left and that bat could've killed you."
Jaeho didn't say anything. Just stared at the ceiling tiles, mind completely blank.
"We'd like to keep you overnight for observation," the doctor continued. "Head injuries can be tricky. Sometimes symptoms don't show up right away."
"I can't afford it," Jaeho said, voice flat and empty.
The doctor frowned.
"Your bills have already been covered."
Jaeho blinked in surprise.
"What?"
"A man came in shortly after you arrived. Said he witnessed the attack. He paid for everything. The ambulance, the ER visit, the scans, medications. Everything."
"Who?" Jaeho asked.
"He didn't give his name. Just paid and left." The doctor added.
Jaeho's chest went tight. Some random stranger he'd never met had dropped thousands of won on his medical bills without asking for anything back.
"I still can't stay," Jaeho said. "I have to get home. My sisters-!"
"It's not compulsory," the doctor interrupted, though his tone made it pretty damn clear he disapproved. "But if you experience dizziness, nausea, blurred vision, or severe headaches, you need to come back immediately. Understood?"
"Understood," Jaeho said.
They discharged him just after midnight with a plastic bag full of medications—painkillers, anti-inflammatories, antibiotics to keep infection away. Jaeho walked out into the freezing night air, every step making his body scream.
But something in his eyes had changed.
--
Sunday blurred past. Jaeho could barely move and every muscle hurt. His head pounded despite the pills. His ribs felt like they were burning every time he breathed.
He asked Granny Yang to watch Jia and Serin, told her he wasn't feeling well. She took one look at the bandages wrapped around his head and went pale.
"Jaeho, what happened?" she asked, voice tight with worry.
"I fell," he lied. "It's nothing serious. I just need to rest."
She didn't believe him. He could see it all over her face. But she didn't push.
"I'll take care of the girls. You rest," she said softly.
Jaeho spent the whole day in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. Took his pills on schedule, swallowed them with water, let the medication drag him back under. Put his phone on silent. No calls. No messages. No distractions.
Granny Yang made sure Jia and Serin got fed, entertained, kept away from their brother for the day and told them he was sick, that he needed quiet. They believed her.
-
Monday hit like a slap. Jaeho woke up feeling way better. The pain was still there, but manageable now. He could move without wincing and think without his head spinning.
The bandage around his head was proof something had gone down.
He was putting an end to all of this.
First, he would report everything to the teachers and show them his injuries. Tell them what happened. And if they did nothing, if they protected those assholes because their parents were donors, he would go to the police.
Jaeho dropped Jia and Serin off at kindergarten like always. They asked about the bandage.
"I fell," he said, smiling. "Clumsy oppa, right?"
They giggled and bought it without question. Why wouldn't they? Their brother never lied to them.
He walked them to the gate, kissed their foreheads, watched them run inside.
Then he turned toward his own school.
-
The second Jaeho stepped through the gates, rage started boiling in his chest.
His eyes were bloodshot from zero sleep and constant pain. His jaw clenched so tight it ached. Every step sent a dull throb through his ribs, reminding him exactly what they had done.
For just a second, one single second, he wanted to find Minho, Jiwon, and Daeho and beat them to death. Right here. Right now. In front of everyone.
Because what they had done wasn't bullying anymore, it was attempted murder.
But before he even made it to his classroom, some student cut him off.
"Han Jaeho? The principal wants to see you. Now," the kid said.
Jaeho frowned.
"Why?"
"I don't know. Just go."
Confused, Jaeho switched directions and headed toward the principal's office. Why the hell would the principal call him in first thing Monday morning?
He knocked.
"Come in," a voice called from inside.
Jaeho stepped in and froze solid.
Jiwon sat in one of the chairs across from the principal's desk, his nose wrapped in bandages, eyes red and puffy like he had been crying his eyes out. Next to him sat a woman in an expensive coat and designer handbag, his mother, obviously, her arms wrapped around her son like he was some fragile victim.
The moment Jiwon saw Jaeho, he flinched. Actually recoiled like Jaeho was about to jump him.
Jaeho's blood went ice cold.
"No."
"No, no, no." He began to panic but this was clearly an act.
The principal gestured to the empty chair.
"Sit down, Mr. Han," he said tiredly.
Jaeho sat slowly, eyes locked on Jiwon's face the whole time. That's when it clicked.
This bastard had reported him first. Made himself the victim before Jaeho could tell his side.
"You bastard," Jaeho said, voice low and venomous.
"Mr. Han!" the principal snapped. "Control yourself."
"Control myself?" Jaeho shot up, yanked his shirt up to show the massive purple-black bruises all over his ribs and stomach. "Look at this! Look at what they did to me!"
The principal's face went pale. He looked away, ashamed. Jiwon's mother gasped like she was watching a horror movie.
"He's threatening my son right in front of you!"
"I didn't threaten anyone!" Jaeho shouted. "They followed me home! Three of them! They attacked me with a baseball bat! I have twelve stitches in my head! I could've died!"
"Mr. Han, please-!"
"There was a witness!" Jaeho kept going, voice shaking with pure rage. "Someone saw everything! I can prove it!"
The principal closed his eyes, rubbing his temples like this was just some headache he didn't want to deal with.
"Jiwon's family," the principal said quietly, "are major donors to this school. There is no reason for them to lie."
Jaeho stared at him in disbelief .
"So that's it? You're just going to ignore what happened?" Jaeho was finally crashing out.
The principal didn't answer.
Jiwon's mother stood up, expression ice cold.
"My son told me everything. You attacked him unprovoked. Broke his nose. He's traumatized," she said sharply.
"That's a lie-!" Jaeho was interrupted.
"We'll be pressing charges," she cut him off. "Unless you apologize. Right now."
Jaeho looked at the principal. At Jiwon, at his mother.
The woman wore tailored silk blouses that clung to her flat chest, the fabric hinting at what was underneath, drawing eyes down to where her real curves started. Wide hips flaring out from a narrow waist in a way that made men uncomfortable. Her ass strained against her pencil skirt.
Jaeho lowered his head because he knew at the end of the day, it was money that ruled the world. He couldn't seek justice when he was against the rich, they would sway those around them.
"I'm sorry for hurting your son," he forced out an apology after weighing the consequences.
The words tasted like poison. He had tolerated them this long for a reason after all.
"An apology isn't enough," Mrs. Choi said coldly.
"Then let me work it off," Jaeho said. "At your house. Weekends. Whatever you need. Just don't press charges," Jaeho pleaded but this request was for a plan he thought of at the stop.
Mrs. Choi's eyes narrowed, then she smiled like a sadist, Jaeho instantly knew where her child inherited his wickedness from.
"Fine. Four hours each weekend. Step out of line once, and I go to the police."
"Understood," Jaeho responded before she left with Jiwon.
Jaeho stood there, mind already spinning.
He knew they wouldn't touch him again because he had shown what he was capable of, but also because all eyes would be on them now.
Mrs. Choi. Early forties. Wealthy. Attractive. A MILF.
He made up his mind.
He was going to use her in ways she didn't even think possible. If he couldn't fuck up her son's life, he was going to fuck her.
[Ding!]
[The host can use his rebate on any MILF he finds attractive, the naughtier the things he gets, the bigger the rebate!]
The system informed him right away, showing she met the qualification.