Episode 3 - Jinwoo (part 3)

The classroom was quiet except for the scratching of pens and the occasional shuffle of papers. Jinwoo sat near the window, his gaze drifting outside to the barren winter trees. The faint sunlight seeped through the glass, creating patterns on his desk.

Despite the calm atmosphere, the tension was palpable. Around him, low murmurs spread like wildfire, students leaning close to whisper about the spectacle that had unfolded in the gym the day before. Jinwoo didn't have to strain to hear his name mentioned repeatedly.

"Did you see Jinwoo yesterday? He destroyed Jang-ho like it was nothing."

"Jang-ho didn't stand a chance. And the way he handled Joon-pyo…"

"I swear, he looked like a professional fighter. Who even *is* he now?"

Jinwoo kept his focus on his notebook, pretending not to hear, but his hands tightened around his pen. He hated the attention, the way everyone suddenly had something to say about him. It was distracting, intrusive, and made the calm he'd fought so hard to cultivate feel fleeting.

The history teacher droned on, oblivious to the quiet chaos in the room. Jinwoo glanced at the board, trying to focus on the lesson about ancient wars, but the voices refused to fade.

Two desks away, a group of boys snickered, throwing occasional glances his way.

"He's acting all cool now, but I bet someone will put him in his place soon."

"Yeah, there's no way he's *that* strong. It must've been luck."

Jinwoo's jaw clenched, but he kept his expression neutral. He wasn't here to prove anything, not to them. His goal was to blend in, not become a topic of conversation. But as the whispers grew louder, he couldn't help but feel the weight of their words pressing down on him like an invisible force.

The bell rang, snapping Jinwoo out of his thoughts. As the students filed out for the next class, Jinwoo sighed quietly, gathering his things. It seemed no matter where he went, the events of yesterday were destined to follow him.

-------------------------------------------------------

The air in Class 2-C was thick with an uneasy tension as the morning dragged on. Students whispered among themselves, glancing at Jinwoo occasionally as if expecting something to happen. Jinwoo sat at his desk, his gaze steady on his notebook, though he wasn't writing. He could feel the eyes on him, the weight of their curiosity and judgment.

The door to the classroom slammed open, the sound reverberating through the room like a thunderclap. A tall, broad-shouldered figure strode in, exuding an aura of dominance that silenced the whispers instantly.

It was Kang Hyun, the leader of Class 2-A, known for his brutal reputation and penchant for picking fights. His sharp features twisted into a smirk as his eyes locked onto Jinwoo. Behind him, two of his lackeys followed, their smug expressions radiating arrogance.

Jinwoo didn't move, his pen tapping lightly against the desk as if Kang Hyun's entrance was of no consequence. The quiet defiance in his lack of reaction only seemed to fuel Kang Hyun's anger.

"Jinwoo," Kang Hyun called, his voice loud and commanding. "You've been causing quite the stir lately. Think you're some kind of big shot now?"

Jinwoo finally looked up, his expression calm but unreadable. "What do you want?" he asked flatly, his tone devoid of interest.

Kang Hyun took a step closer, the tension in the room thickening. "What I want," he said slowly, "is to see if all the hype about you is true. Let's settle this—right here, right now."

Jinwoo sighed, standing up from his desk. His eyes met Kang Hyun's, steady and unflinching. "I'm not interested," he said simply, brushing past him to head for the door.

But Kang Hyun wasn't going to let it slide. He motioned to his lackeys, and they blocked Jinwoo's path. One of them shoved him hard, but Jinwoo didn't stumble—his body remained firm, his gaze sharp.

The classroom fell into a tense silence as the lackeys moved in, their smug grins betraying their confidence. One swung at Jinwoo, but before the fist could connect, Jinwoo grabbed his arm, twisting it sharply. The boy yelped in pain as Jinwoo spun him around and flipped him over his shoulder with a flawless *ippon seoi nage*—a classic Judo throw.

The second lackey hesitated for a moment before charging at Jinwoo, but Jinwoo sidestepped effortlessly. With a swift movement, he grabbed the attacker's collar and leg, performing a textbook *osoto gari*, sending the boy crashing to the floor. The sound of his body hitting the tiles echoed through the classroom.

The students watched in stunned silence as Jinwoo straightened his uniform, his movements calm and deliberate. He glanced at Kang Hyun, who stood frozen, his jaw clenched.

"I said I wasn't interested," Jinwoo repeated, his voice steady and quiet. Without another word, he stepped over the groaning bodies of the lackeys and walked out of the room, leaving behind a stunned audience and a furious Kang Hyun.

---------------------------------------------------------

Evening -

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows over the park. The empty pathways were lined with skeletal trees, their bare branches swaying lightly in the cold evening breeze. Jinwoo walked along the trail, the crunch of gravel under his shoes the only sound in the otherwise still air. The solitude was comforting, a brief escape from the chaos of the day.

But something felt off.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he noticed the unnatural silence. The faint rustling of leaves was not from the wind, and the shadows around him seemed to shift unnaturally. His sharp instincts, honed from months of intense training, kicked in.

Then they appeared.

From behind trees and bushes, a group of masked figures emerged, their faces obscured by black masks. There were at least twelve of them, their dark clothes blending into the encroaching night. They moved like predators, circling Jinwoo with a calculated menace.

"Jinwoo, right?" one of them said, his voice muffled behind the mask. "You've been making quite the name for yourself. Let's see how tough you really are."

Jinwoo's expression remained calm, his stance relaxed, though his eyes sharpened like a blade. He placed his bag on the ground slowly, his movements deliberate. "Twelve against one," he said quietly, his voice steady. "You really think that's enough?"

The leader laughed, and with a sharp motion of his hand, the group surged forward.

The first attacker lunged at Jinwoo with a wild swing, but Jinwoo sidestepped effortlessly, his body moving with precision. With a swift spinning kick, he caught the attacker's side, sending him flying into a nearby bench. The wood cracked under the impact, and the masked figure crumpled to the ground.

Another came at him with a metal pipe, swinging it downward with force. Jinwoo ducked, his movements fluid, and countered with a powerful uppercut. The masked man's head snapped back, and he stumbled before collapsing onto the gravel.

Two more charged at him simultaneously. Jinwoo moved between them, delivering a devastating elbow strike to one and a knee to the other's abdomen. The force of his knee sent the second man airborne, crashing into a tree trunk with a dull thud.

The remaining attackers hesitated, their confidence faltering as they watched their comrades drop like flies. Jinwoo's body was a blur of motion—his taekwondo kicks, sharp and precise, cut through the air with explosive power, while his Kyokushin karate punches broke through their defenses like a sledgehammer.

One masked man managed to grab Jinwoo's arm, but Jinwoo countered with a brutal clinch straight from Muay Thai. He slammed his knee into the attacker's ribs repeatedly, the sickening crunch of bone echoing in the cold night. Jinwoo spun, releasing him with a final elbow to the jaw that sent the man sprawling.

The ground was littered with groaning bodies, the park now eerily silent save for the sound of Jinwoo's steady breathing.

The leader of the group stood frozen, his fists trembling. Jinwoo turned to him, his face calm but his eyes burning with intensity. He walked toward the man, each step slow and deliberate. The crunch of gravel under his feet was the only sound as the leader stumbled backward, tripping over his own fear.

Jinwoo stopped a foot away, cracking his knuckles, his voice low and unyielding. "Tell whoever sent you… this was a mistake."

Without waiting for a response, Jinwoo picked up his bag and walked away, his figure disappearing into the night as the leader scrambled to his feet, dragging his fallen comrades with him.

The park fell silent once more, but the echoes of the fight lingered like a warning in the crisp evening air.