The Fall of a Tyrant

The lunch bell rang, signaling the start of the break as students began filing into the canteen, their voices blending into a chaotic buzz. But today, the usual lunchtime chatter was different—more hushed, more secretive. Groups of students huddled together, their eyes darting to their phones and then back to the entrance, where the usual tension had been replaced with something else entirely: anticipation.

Woojin and Daeho sat at a table near the back, their hearts pounding as they watched the ripple effect of their actions. Daeho had posted the video to the school's online forum late last night, just before turning in for what little sleep he could manage. The video was also anonymously uploaded to social media, where it quickly gained traction among the students. Now, it seemed like everyone had seen it—everyone except Taejoon and his group.

The canteen buzzed with whispered conversations, the words "Taejoon" and "bully" catching Woojin's ears as they passed by. Some students glanced nervously at the door, half-expecting Taejoon to burst through it at any moment. Others looked excited, like they were finally witnessing the fall of a tyrant.

Daeho swallowed hard, his stomach twisting in knots. "Do you think it's working?" he asked Woojin, his voice barely above a whisper.

Woojin nodded, though he couldn't shake the anxiety gnawing at him. "It's working. They're talking. Now we just have to wait for Taejoon to find out."

As if on cue, the door to the canteen swung open, and in walked Taejoon and his group, completely unaware of the storm brewing around them. Taejoon was laughing about something, his usual swagger on full display as he made his way through the crowded space.

But this time, there were no greetings, no nods of acknowledgment from the other students. Instead, there were stares—some curious, some fearful, and others filled with a quiet satisfaction. Taejoon noticed, his laughter dying down as he glanced around, a frown creasing his forehead.

"What's with everyone?" he muttered to one of his friends, who only shrugged in response.

The group continued deeper into the canteen, oblivious to the dozens of eyes following their every move. It wasn't until they reached the food line that Taejoon finally caught on. A group of girls nearby were huddled together, whispering furiously as they stole glances at him.

"Hey!" Taejoon barked, causing them to jump. "What the hell are you all whispering about?"

The girls didn't respond, but one of them, braver than the others, pointed shakily at her phone screen. Taejoon snatched the phone from her hand, his eyes narrowing as he looked at it. His expression shifted from confusion to shock, and then to unbridled fury.

On the screen was the video—Daeho standing up to Taejoon, refusing to steal the exam key, and then Taejoon's vicious punch, all captured in clear detail. The captions beneath the video didn't hold back, calling Taejoon a bully and exposing the fear he had instilled in the student body for so long.

Taejoon's hands trembled with rage as he tossed the phone back to the girl, who quickly recoiled. His friends were already looking at their own phones, expressions of disbelief and anger crossing their faces as they, too, saw the video for the first time.

"Who the hell did this?" Taejoon growled, his voice dangerously low. "Who posted this?!"

But no one answered. The students in the canteen fell silent, every pair of eyes fixed on Taejoon, waiting to see what he would do next. His friends exchanged uneasy glances, their confidence visibly shaken.

Woojin and Daeho remained seated at their table, watching the scene unfold. Daeho's heart raced, but he felt a strange sense of satisfaction as he saw the panic in Taejoon's eyes. For once, it wasn't him who was afraid—it was Taejoon.

Taejoon's gaze swept the canteen, landing briefly on Woojin and Daeho. For a split second, their eyes met, and in that moment, Woojin saw the flicker of realization in Taejoon's eyes. He knew. He knew who was behind the video.

But before Taejoon could make a move, the loudspeaker crackled to life, echoing across the canteen with a stern voice that sent a shiver through every student.

"Taejoon Kang, report to the principal's office immediately," the voice commanded, its tone leaving no room for argument. The announcement sliced through the tension in the room like a knife, silencing the already subdued chatter.

Every student's attention shifted to Taejoon, whose face had gone from enraged to ashen in a matter of seconds. His bravado faltered as the weight of the situation began to press down on him. He wasn't just dealing with a few whispers or stares now—he was in real trouble, and everyone knew it.

Taejoon's friends exchanged nervous glances, their previous confidence crumbling as they realized the gravity of the situation. They had always walked in Taejoon's shadow, basking in the protection his intimidation provided. But now, that shield was cracking, and they could feel the eyes of the entire school on them.

"Damn it," Taejoon muttered under his breath, his voice thick with anger and dread. He pushed away from the food line, his appetite long gone, and began to make his way toward the exit. His steps were heavy, each one dragging as if he were walking to his own execution.

The students watched in stunned silence as Taejoon passed by, a mixture of disbelief and anticipation on their faces. The atmosphere in the canteen was electric, charged with the knowledge that something important was happening.

As Taejoon neared the exit, the whispers started again—this time louder, more insistent. It wasn't just curiosity driving the gossip now; it was the thrill of witnessing the downfall of someone who had ruled over them with fear for so long.

"Do you think he's finally getting what he deserves?" one student whispered to another.

"About time someone stood up to him," another replied, not bothering to lower their voice.

Taejoon's fists clenched at his sides as the voices reached his ears. Each word felt like a slap, a reminder that the power he once held was slipping through his fingers. His mind raced with thoughts of how to regain control, but for the first time, he felt cornered—trapped by the very people he had spent years trying to dominate.

"Tsk, tsk. You should've been smarter about it, Taejoon."

A voice cut through the heavy silence, sharp and mocking. Taejoon froze and turned, his eyes narrowing as he spotted someone leaning casually against the wall behind him.

The figure stepped away from the wall, revealing a familiar face—one that Taejoon never expected to see here, much less taunting him. It was Yang Seojin, a higher-ups from other section who had always kept to himself, known more for his sharp wit than his physical prowess. But there was something unsettling in the way Seojin now regarded Taejoon, his usual aloofness replaced with a predatory gleam.

"Seojin," Taejoon spat, his voice low and laced with anger. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Seojin's lips curled into a smirk as he casually crossed his arms. "Watching the mighty Taejoon Choi fall from grace," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "It's quite the spectacle, don't you think?"

Taejoon's blood boiled at Seojin's audacity. He had never liked the guy, always considered him a nobody who stayed out of his way. But now, seeing Seojin standing there with that infuriating smirk, it was clear that the tables had turned.

"Shut your mouth," Taejoon snarled, taking a step toward Seojin. "I'm not in the mood for your crap."

But Seojin didn't flinch. If anything, his smirk widened. "That temper of yours is what got you into this mess in the first place," he said, his voice calm, almost mocking. "And now look at you—dragged to the principal's office like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar."

Taejoon's fists clenched, his knuckles turning white. He was on the verge of lashing out, of wiping that smug look off Seojin's face, but he knew that would only make things worse. And deep down, he could feel the shift in power—the fear he used to command was slipping away, and in its place was something he didn't recognize: vulnerability.

"Hey, Taejoon... let's get out of here. There are too many eyes on us," one of his lackeys muttered under his breath.

Seojin took a step closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur that only Taejoon could hear. "You were so focused on keeping everyone in line through fear, you didn't realize how quickly they'd turn on you the moment they saw a weakness. And that video?" Seojin shook his head with feigned sympathy. "That was just the beginning."

Taejoon's breath came in short, ragged bursts. He wanted to scream, to tear Seojin apart for the humiliation he was feeling, but he couldn't move. The walls were closing in on him, the weight of the students' stares pressing down like a physical force.

"Enjoy your little walk to the principal's office," Seojin continued, his voice smooth and taunting.

With that, Seojin turned and walked away, leaving Taejoon standing there, seething with rage and drowning in a wave of shame he couldn't escape from. The students' whispers grew louder as they sensed the tension between the two, but now, instead of fear, there was a note of triumph in the air.

Taejoon felt the pressure in his chest build as the reality of his situation set in. He was no longer the untouchable force he once believed himself to be. The power he had held over the school had been shattered, and the fear he had once instilled was now a weapon turned against him.

With a final glance around the canteen, Taejoon straightened his back, trying to salvage whatever dignity he had left. Without another word, he pushed through the doors and made his way toward the principal's office, his footsteps heavy with the weight of impending consequences.