The morning sun cut through the haze of Noryangjin-dong, its golden rays glinting off the glass storefronts as Jang Taesan strode toward school, his frayed backpack slung over one shoulder. The air was thick with the familiar scents of sizzling tteokbokki and roasted chestnuts, mingling with the distant drone of morning traffic. It was his eleventh day back in 2008, and each step felt sharper, more purposeful, as if the ground itself was bending to his will. The opening of his savings account yesterday—a small but critical first step toward his financial empire—had lit a spark in him, a flicker of control that burned alongside the ache in his muscles from Choi's Taekwondo & Hapkido Academy. But the weight of his future knowledge, the looming threat of Min-soo Kang, and the unanswered question of his rebirth kept his senses razor-sharp.
Taesan's mind buzzed with plans as he entered the school courtyard, where students milled about, some cramming for tests, others laughing over cans of Chilsung Cider. His notebook, tucked in his bag, was a blueprint of the future—dates of market surges, tech startups like Kakao and Coupang, the Bitcoin boom just a few years away. But it wasn't enough to know; he had to act, to turn his foresight into power. The CSAT was his first major hurdle, and beyond it, the stock market awaited. Yet, the smaller battles—Min-soo's vendetta, Sophie Leclerc's piercing curiosity, the fragile bonds with Han Do-jin and Noah Park—demanded his attention now.
In math class, Taesan tackled a set of differential equations with a precision that left Mr. Lim speechless, his chalk pausing mid-scrawl. "Jang, you're making my job too easy," the teacher said, a rare smile breaking through his stern facade. Whispers rippled through the room, and Sophie, seated near the front, turned to shoot him a glance—her eyes sharp, calculating, like she was piecing together a puzzle. Taesan met her gaze briefly, then looked away, his heart ticking faster. Her scrutiny was becoming a constant, and he wasn't sure if she was an ally or a threat.
At lunch, the cafeteria pulsed with its usual chaos—students shouting over trays of japchae and kimchi, the air thick with the scent of soy and chili. Taesan sat alone, his notebook open to a new page: a list of part-time jobs he could take to funnel more money into his savings account. In 2008, options were limited for a high schooler, but he remembered small gigs—tutoring, delivery, even helping at local markets—that could add up. He was jotting down ideas when Han Do-jin plopped into the seat across from him, his tie predictably crooked, a mischievous grin on his face.
"Yo, Taesan, you're gonna burn a hole in that notebook," Do-jin said, stealing a piece of Taesan's mandoo. "What's with the secret plans? You robbing a bank or something?"
Taesan closed the notebook, forcing a laugh. "Just trying to stay ahead, man. CSAT's no joke." He couldn't tell Do-jin about the markets, the time-travel, or the vow to save him from the car crash that loomed in his future. The sight of his friend, alive and carefree, was both a comfort and a wound.
Do-jin leaned forward, his grin softening. "You're freaking me out, dude. You're, like, scary smart now, and you've got this… vibe. Like you're ready to take on the world. Even Min-soo's been weirdly quiet since that alley thing."
Taesan's jaw tightened at the mention of Min-soo. The bully hadn't approached since Master Choi's intervention, but his glares across the cafeteria were a storm waiting to break. "He's biding his time," Taesan said, his voice low. "Guys like him don't forget."
Do-jin shrugged, unbothered. "Let him try. You're not the same Taesan who used to duck and run. Keep that up, and you'll be untouchable."
The words hit like a spark, fueling Taesan's resolve. He wasn't just fighting for himself—he was fighting for Do-jin, for Emma Kim, for the future he'd rewrite. "Thanks, man," he said, his voice steady. "Stick around, and maybe I'll drag you to the top with me."
Do-jin laughed, tossing a napkin at him. "Deal. But you're buying the ramen when we're rich."
After school, Taesan stopped by a local market, his eyes scanning the bustling stalls for opportunities. A vendor, an older man with a weathered face, was struggling to unload crates of fruit. Taesan approached, offering to help for a small fee. The man eyed him skeptically but nodded, and Taesan spent an hour hauling crates, his muscles protesting but his mind sharp. The few thousand won he earned felt like a fortune—the first coins in his empire. As he pocketed the cash, he felt a surge of confidence, a tangible step toward his goal.
At Choi's Taekwondo & Hapkido Academy that evening, Taesan threw himself into training with a ferocity that drew stares. The dojang was alive with the sharp thwack of kicks and the rhythmic shouts of effort, the air thick with sweat and focus. Master Choi's voice boomed as Taesan practiced a taekwondo side kick, his form sharper now, the movement flowing from his hips. "Jang! Good! Now harder!" Choi barked, his stern face betraying a flicker of pride.
Across the mat, Noah Park worked through a wrist lock, his lanky frame steadier, his focus intense. Taesan caught his eye, offering a nod, and Noah returned it, a quiet bond strengthening between them. Taesan's mind flashed to Noah's future—a tech titan who'd reshape industries. He's not there yet, but I'll need him when the time comes.
Choi paired Taesan with Hye-jun for sparring, the wiry senior grinning as they squared off. "Ready to eat mat again, Jang?" Hye-jun teased, lunging with a quick jab.
Taesan blocked, his reflexes honed by days of drills, and countered with a side kick that caught Hye-jun's ribs, earning a surprised grunt. "Not today," Taesan said, a spark of confidence in his voice. Hye-jun laughed, rubbing his side, and the spar continued, each move a testament to Taesan's growing strength.
As the session ended, Noah approached, wiping his brow. "You're killing it, Taesan," he said, his shy smile genuine. "How do you stay so focused?"
Taesan grinned, slinging his towel over his shoulder. "Got a lot riding on this, Noah. You're not doing bad yourself. Keep pushing."
Noah's eyes lit up, a flicker of determination breaking through. "Thanks, man. Feels good to have someone who gets it."
Choi's voice cut through. "Jang! Park! Save the bonding for after class!" They bowed, sharing a quick laugh, and Taesan felt the pieces of his plan clicking into place—Do-jin's trust, Noah's potential, Choi's guidance, the coins in his pocket. Small steps, but each one brought him closer to his empire.
Walking home under Noryangjin's neon glow, the stars faint against the city's electric haze, Taesan felt the edge of confidence sharpening. The market gig, the dojang, the alliances—they were the foundation of something unstoppable. Min-soo's threat, Sophie's scrutiny, the mystery of his return—they were challenges he'd conquer. He clenched his fists, his lips curling into a determined grin.
The first steps are done. Now I'm running.