When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

chapter 23

I didn't know until I reached the address-

Oh, it was our school ground.

I should have read it again, noticed.

The ground was empty, silent except for the dim lights flickering above. The faint hum of electricity buzzed in the still air, casting long, sharp shadows. It was cold, but not the kind that seeped into the skin—this was the kind that settled in the bones, making everything feel distant.

And then, he was there.

Han Ul stood a few feet away, looking as if he had all the time in the world. Hands in his pockets.

So it is him.

"You came," he said. His voice was smooth, effortless, as if this wasn’t anything unusual.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know why I was here either.

Then, that smirk. The one that made something crawl under my skin.

“Fight me,” he said.

I blinked. “What?”

What is he even talking about?

His stance didn’t change, but there was something in the way he tilted his head, the way his expression sharpened. “Fight me,” he repeated, slower this time. “Or should I just start beating you until you do?”

I was confused, about what is he talking about, if that make any sense, at this time.

“I’m not going to fight you,” I said.

His smirk widened. “Wrong answer.”

And then he moved.

Fast.

I barely had time to react before his fist crashed into my ribs, sending a sharp jolt of pain through my body. Before I could recover, his knee struck my stomach. A second later, his elbow slammed against my jaw.

Too fast. Too precise. Too strong.

I hit the ground hard, my vision blurring.

“Get up,” Han Ul said, his voice cold.

I coughed, pushing myself up. My ribs ached. My lip was bleeding. I could already feel the bruises forming, but also healing.

“I don’t want to fight you,” I said.

Han Ul scoffed. “That’s not my problem.”

Then he kicked me.

Pain exploded in my side as I tumbled back, gasping. My hands dug into the dirt as I tried to steady myself. It hurt.

Han Ul crouched in front of me, his expression unreadable. Then, in a quiet voice, he said—

“People like you… they think they can survive by doing nothing.”

His hand grabbed my collar, yanking me up until our faces were inches apart.

“You exist in a world where the strong decide what happens.” His voice was eerily calm. “And you’re weak.”

His fist struck again. A sharp, cracking pain shot through my cheek. Blood pooled in my mouth.

I gasped, trying to stay upright.

No.

I am not weak.

I am not—

Something inside me snapped.

The air shifted.

I felt it in my bones first—a slow, burning pull deep inside my body.

And then—

Everything changed.

Han Ul stepped back slightly, confusion flickering in his eyes.

Then he froze.

A strangled sound left his lips. His body jerked violently.

And then—he collapsed.

The silence was deafening.

He gasped, his fingers clawing at the dirt, his muscles twitching involuntarily.

Then—his body convulsed. As if something was crushing him.

His breath hitched.

A strangled gasp tore from his throat as his body curled inward—his ribs tightening, his arms trembling.

And then—

Every single thing he did to me came back.

All at once.

Blood Debt – Every wound I endure returns to my enemy.

I'm nothing without my power...

His ribs cracked. His stomach convulsed. His jaw snapped to the side as if he had just been struck with an invisible force.

His own body turned against him.

Han Ul choked on a breath, his fingers curling into the dirt. His back arched violently as the pain rushed through him in a single, brutal wave.

He gasped, blood trickling from his lips. His shoulders trembled. His body shook.

The bruises he gave me—now painted his own skin. The pain he inflicted—now consumed him.

He couldn’t even scream.

His body had already registered the damage.

And yet, through it all—

He laughed.

A quiet, shattered sound, mixed with the blood on his lips.

His breath was uneven, his body barely holding together. And yet—he still smiled.

Then, through his broken voice, he whispered—

“Let’s team up, Beak Cheonga.”