CHAPTER 2: D-0

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The alley was narrow, lit only by a single flickering streetlamp. Jaehyun walked with his hands shoved in his pockets, hoodie half-zipped, breath visible in the cold air. His steps were slow—he wasn't really heading anywhere, just moving, letting the leftover adrenaline bleed out of his body.

He should've kept walking.

He really should've.

But the sound of loud, messy teenage voices drifted toward him—echoing off the walls. Laughter. Shouting. The kind that tried too hard to sound fearless.

Then a name cut through the noise.

"—Baek Yerin—"

His feet stopped like someone grabbed him.

The alley opened slightly into a wider space behind a row of shops. Four boys stood in a circle, one holding his phone high like it contained some national treasure.

"Bro, look—this part. This part—holy shit, she really did that—"

"No wonder she acts all—"

"Princess my ass—"

Jaehyun didn't think.

He just moved.

Two steps.

Three.

Before the one holding the phone even realized someone was behind him, Jaehyun reached out, snatched the phone right out of his hand, and stepped back.

"Ya—!"
"Are you fucking crazy?!"
"What the hell—"

The boy who lost his phone spun around, face red, ready to bark again.

"Ya, who the hell are—"

Jaehyun lifted his eyes.

Just his eyes.

Cold. Flat. Done with the world.

"Me?" His voice came out low, bored, almost lazy. "Kang Jaehyun."

Silence.

A full two seconds where every kid's brain stuttered.

Then—

"Wait— the Kang Jaehyun?"
"The new kid—? The one who—?"
"Shit—shit—stop talking—"

Their eyes darted to each other, suddenly nervous, like animals realizing the thing they were poking with a stick wasn't a stray cat but a tiger.

Jaehyun ignored all of them, thumb already tapping the screen.

The video played instantly.

A younger Yerin—middle school uniform, hair tied perfectly, posture straight even as a child—stood in an empty hallway. Another girl, messy, loud, yelling something unintelligible but clearly obnoxious.

The video holder laughed off-screen.

"Watch—watch—here she does it—"

Yerin didn't shout. Didn't move fast. She just stepped forward, raised her hand, and slapped the girl across the face with one perfect, sharp motion. The sound cracked through the phone speaker.

The girl fell sideways, stunned.

Video Yerin spoke then—voice younger but already controlled, sharp, emotionless.
Something like:

"Disrespect me again, and I'll end your academic career."

The boys in the alley snickered.

"Savage—"
"She was scary even back then—"
"No wonder she acts like she owns the place—"

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