The late afternoon sun hung low over Noryangjin-dong, painting the high school courtyard in hues of gold and shadow as Jang Taesan stepped out of the school building. The air was thick with the scent of street food and the distant hum of cram school signs flickering to life. His muscles still ached from last night's training at Choi's Taekwondo & Hapkido Academy, but the soreness felt like a badge, a reminder of the strength he was forging. It was his fourth day back in 2008, and the weight of his second chance burned brighter with every step. But so did the threats.
Min-soo Kang's glare had followed him all day, a predator's stare from across classrooms and hallways. Taesan had felt it in math, in history, even during lunch when Sophie Leclerc's sharp intervention had sent the bully slinking away. But Taesan wasn't naive. Min-soo wasn't the type to let a public humiliation slide, especially not after Sophie had made him a laughingstock twice. The memory of his past life—years of shrinking from conflict, of letting bullies like Min-soo walk over him—stoked a fire in his chest. Not this time.
He adjusted his frayed backpack, weaving through the thinning crowd of students heading to cram schools or home. His mind churned with plans: ace the CSAT, dominate the stock market, unravel the mystery of his return. But first, he had to survive high school—and that meant dealing with Min-soo.
As he passed the school's back gate, a narrow alley lined with overgrown bushes, a rough voice cut through the air. "Going somewhere, Jang?"
Taesan stopped, his pulse quickening. Min-soo stepped out from the alley's shadows, his broad frame blocking the path. Two lackeys flanked him—Ji-hoon and Dong-min, their smirks sharp as knives. The courtyard was nearly empty now, the other students too far to notice or care. Taesan's jaw tightened. He'd known this was coming, but the reality hit harder than expected.
"Min-soo," Taesan said, his voice steady despite the adrenaline spiking through him. "You really want to do this?"
Min-soo cracked his knuckles, his smirk twisting into something uglier. "You think you're hot shit now, huh? Solving math problems, mouthing off, getting Leclerc to fight your battles? Time to learn your place."
Taesan's fists clenched, his mind flashing to his past life—nights as a security guard, facing down drunks who thought they could intimidate him. This was different, though. His teenage body was untrained, untested, and Min-soo was bigger, stronger, meaner. But Taesan wasn't the same scared kid. "My place?" he said, stepping forward, eyes locked on Min-soo's. "I'm not the one hiding in alleys like a coward."
Ji-hoon snorted, but Min-soo's face darkened, his pride stung. "Big talk for a nobody," he growled, closing the distance. "Let's see how tough you are without your girlfriend."
Taesan braced himself, his stance shifting instinctively from Master Choi's drills. He wasn't ready for a real fight, not yet, but he wouldn't run. Before Min-soo could swing, a sharp shout cut through the tension. "Kang! You're pathetic."
Sophie Leclerc strode into the alley, her ponytail swinging, her eyes blazing with disgust. She crossed her arms, her presence like a storm rolling in. "Three against one? What, you need your goons to hold your hand?"
Min-soo's face twisted, caught between rage and embarrassment. "Stay out of this, Leclerc," he snapped, but his voice wavered. Sophie's reputation—top student, fearless, untouchable—made her a force even he couldn't ignore.
"Make me," she shot back, stepping closer, her gaze unflinching. "Or are you scared to look like an idiot again?"
The lackeys shifted uneasily, glancing at Min-soo for direction. The alley was silent, the air thick with tension. Taesan saw his chance. "She's right," he said, voice low but firm. "You want to prove something? Try me one-on-one. Unless you're scared."
Min-soo's eyes flicked between Taesan and Sophie, his jaw twitching. The crowd of onlookers was growing—students lingering at the gate, whispering, phones out. He couldn't afford to lose face again. "You're dead, Jang," he muttered, but the fight had drained from him. He jerked his head at his lackeys. "Let's go." They slunk away, Min-soo's glare promising this wasn't over.
The crowd dispersed, buzzing with gossip. Sophie turned to Taesan, her expression a mix of irritation and curiosity. "You've got a death wish, don't you?" she said, crossing her arms. "Why keep poking the bear?"
Taesan exhaled, adrenaline still coursing through him. "I'm done running," he said, meeting her gaze. "Thanks for the save. Again."
"Don't get used to it," she said, but her lips twitched, almost a smile. "You're making enemies fast, Jang. That math stunt, standing up to Min-soo—you're not invisible anymore. People notice."
"Good," he said, surprising himself with the conviction in his voice. "I'm not here to hide."
Sophie's eyes narrowed, studying him like a puzzle she couldn't crack. "You're weird," she said finally, turning to leave. "Just don't get yourself beat up before you explain what's going on with you." She walked off, leaving Taesan with a mix of gratitude and unease. Sophie was a wildcard, and her interest was starting to feel like a spotlight he wasn't sure he wanted.
At Choi's Taekwondo & Hapkido Academy that evening, Taesan threw himself into training with a new intensity. The dojang's air was thick with sweat and focus, the thwack of kicks against pads echoing like a war drum. Master Choi's voice boomed as Taesan stumbled through a front kick, his teenage body protesting. "Jang! Balance! You're not swinging a bat, you're striking!"
Taesan gritted his teeth, sweat stinging his eyes. The alley confrontation had lit a fire in him. Min-soo's size, his threats—they were a reminder of how vulnerable he still was. But every clumsy kick, every shaky block, was a step toward strength. He caught Noah Park's eye across the mat, the lanky teen struggling but persistent. Taesan gave him a nod, a silent acknowledgment of their shared grind.
As the session ended, Master Choi pulled Taesan aside, his stern face unreadable. "You're pushing hard, kid," he said, voice rough but approving. "Something's driving you. Keep it up, but don't let it burn you out."
"I won't," Taesan said, bowing, his muscles screaming but his resolve ironclad. Min-soo's threat, Sophie's warning, Noah's potential—they were all pieces of the puzzle he was building.
Walking home under Noryangjin's neon glow, the stars faint above, Taesan felt the weight of his past life's failures and the promise of his new one. Min-soo was just the start. Bigger battles—exams, markets, mysteries—loomed ahead. He clenched his fists, his lips curling into a determined grin.
Let them come. I'm ready.