Break The Chain
[POV: Kim Minsu – 3rd Year Nobody]
Kim Minsu had never seen the third floor this quiet.
Even during the Pit Dogs' reign, there had been sound—barking laughter, slammed lockers, the metallic clang of punches echoing from the stairwells.
But now it was dead.
A hollow, echoing silence swallowed Dogsung High. It wasn't peace. It was fear that had learned to walk.
He passed the bloodstained wall near Room 3-4. No one had cleaned it. Rumors said Doohwan's blood had splattered there. Some whispered the bones pierced through his flesh like bamboo snapped mid-swing.
Minsu didn't care about Pit Dogs. Didn't like Scar Chain either. He was nobody. But after seeing Doohwan's arm bend backwards and hearing the silence that followed—
He knew one thing:
He would never cross Eli Nam.
[POV: Teacher Yoon – Faculty Office]
"Where is he?"
Her voice cracked as she stared down at the untouched disciplinary report on her desk. "You're telling me Eli Nam isn't in any file?"
Principal Jang sighed like a man haunted. "He's registered. Perfect attendance. Top-tier scores. No infractions. Not even a late slip."
She scoffed. "You expect me to believe that?"
"I expect you to understand this," he replied, staring her down. "We called the police. The precinct said it's 'being handled internally.' Then they hung up."
"In what world does a student break limbs in front of witnesses and nothing happens?"
Jang looked away. "In South Busan. Where leash-holders don't wear uniforms."
[POV: Rowon – Defeated Pit Dog]
Pain wasn't supposed to linger. Bruises faded. Bones healed. But humiliation? That stayed.
Rowon lay in silence in the hq, with his pride obliterated. Every breath felt like fire licking his lungs.
He'd thought Doohwan would win. But. Eli is much more bigger threat.
Doohwan lost face. Now the Pit Dogs were done.
From apex predators to street trash, overnight.
He watched Eli from the window. Alone in the courtyard, coat swaying in the wind, expression unreadable.
It was like watching a ghost walk through daylight.
"You think this ends here?" Rowon muttered, gripping the bedsheets. "One day, you'll bleed too."
[POV: Jaeyoon Seo – Scar Chain Leader]
Screech. Screech. Screech.
The sound of a rusted pipe dragging across the rooftop was Jaeyoon's sermon. He stood at the center of the Scar Chain's circle—half punks, half misfits, all believers.
"Everyone's bowing to him," Jaeyoon said, voice flat. "You see it? Teachers. Students. Even the janitor flinched when he walked by."
No one answered.
"He took the Pit Dogs apart. Good. That saves me the trouble."
Silence. Still, they listened.
"But now he thinks he's king. Let him keep thinking that."
Jaeyoon dropped the pipe with a metallic thud.
"When we take his crown, we do it while he's wearing it."
[POV: Cha Jinho – Scar Chain Lieutenant]
"They say Eli doesn't sleep."
Jinho tied his bandages tighter, knuckles cracked from training.
"They say he doesn't blink. Doesn't talk. That his heart stopped beating when he was twelve."
"Who gives a shit?" another member muttered.
Jinho grinned. "Exactly. He's not a god. Just a freak with a reputation."
Scar Chain was nothing like the Pit Dogs. No hierarchy, no flashy bullying. They were quiet, fast, surgical. Fanatics of violence.
They didn't fight for fun. They fought for philosophy.
And Eli Nam had become the new blasphemy.
[POV: Students – Classroom 3-1]
When Eli entered the classroom, no one looked up.
Not out of disrespect.
Out of primal instinct.
Animals don't stare down predators. They pretend to be invisible.
Eli took his seat by the window. The one Doohwan used to sit in. No one touched it now. That desk had become sacred.
He leaned back, eyes half-lidded.
He wasn't listening to the lesson.
He was listening to the school breathe.
To who still dared to breathe at all.
[POV: Principal Jang – Late Evening]
He walked the school halls after sunset.
Graffiti was beginning to reappear. Not the Pit Dog tag—this was different. Red marker. Strange symbols. A scar over a chain.
He rubbed his temples.
"I thought this would end when Rowon fell."
It never ends.
He entered the office, shut the door, and picked up a burner phone.
"…Activate the secondary channel."
A pause.
"No, not cops. That won't work anymore."
Another pause.
"Yes. Call the Four Crews. Let them know we have a ghost in Dogsung."
[POV: Eli Nam – Rooftop – Midnight]
The wind howled like it knew his name.
Eli lit a cigarette, the flame dancing for a moment before the wind swallowed it. He stood at the edge, looking down at the dark city.
He hadn't spoken since the fight.
Didn't need to.
The school had heard the silence louder than a scream.
Behind him, some fool Pit Dogs tried to ambush him last period. Three of them. All limping now.
He didn't even break a sweat.
Lights flickered in the distance—bars, backalleys, neon clubs, and forgotten warehouses.
South Busan.
Territory lines.
And somewhere beyond those shattered hallways and broken faces, the real predators were watching.
And somewhere below the school—at the docks and in the rusted steel alleys—the Drift was watching.
Not kids. Not school punks.
Real street crews. Gangs with codes, brands, and blood-soaked oaths.
Dogsung belonged to South Busan. And South Busan belonged to the Drift.
Ex-bouncers, smugglers, and bare-knuckle monsters who bled for coin and laughed at police lines.
If they were starting to notice a school fight?
It meant the world was changing.
Because in Busan… names had weight. And saying the wrong one could be a death sentence.