The morning air in Noryangjin-dong shimmered with the heat of late July, the sun blazing down on the crowded streets as Jang Taesan made his way to school. His frayed backpack, heavy with textbooks and his notebook of future plans, bounced against his shoulder, a reminder of the empire he was building one coin, one kick, one answer at a time. It was his seventeenth day back in 2008, and the fire of his second chance roared within him, fueled by the echoes of his recent victory over Min-soo Kang. The bully's retreat in the alley, sparked by Sophie Leclerc's sharp intervention, had shifted the school's dynamics—whispers of Taesan's name carried respect now, but also danger. The tide was turning, but Taesan knew the current could pull him under if he wasn't careful.
The school courtyard buzzed with its usual chaos—students trading notes, laughing over cans of Vita 500, or rushing to early cram sessions. Taesan's eyes scanned the crowd, alert for Min-soo or his cronies, Ji-hoon and Dong-min, whose lurking presence had become a constant shadow. The bully's silence since the alley clash was a coiled threat, and Sophie's warning—"You're hiding something big"—gnawed at him, her scrutiny a puzzle he couldn't yet solve. His plan—acing the CSAT, building wealth from market foresight, forging alliances with Han Do-jin and Noah Park—was gaining traction, but the mystery of his rebirth after saving Emma Kim lingered like a storm on the horizon.
In Korean history class, Taesan answered a question about the March First Movement with a depth that left Ms. Park speechless, her chalk hovering mid-air. "Jang, you're turning into our resident historian," she said, her tone a mix of awe and curiosity. Whispers spread among his classmates, and Sophie, seated by the window, shot him a glance—her eyes sharp, her pencil tapping thoughtfully, as if she were piecing together a puzzle. Taesan kept his expression neutral, but her attention was a growing pressure. His brilliance was rewriting his reputation, but every step into the spotlight made him a bigger target.
At lunch, the cafeteria thrummed with noise—students shouting over trays of bulgogi, the air thick with the scent of soy sauce and grilled meat. Taesan sat alone, his notebook open to a new page: a refined plan to scale his tutoring and market gigs. The 15,000 won from yesterday's PC bang job and the 10,000 won from Ji-woo's math session were seeds for his savings account, which he'd use to capitalize on the 2008 market crash's aftermath. He was jotting down names of new tutoring prospects when Han Do-jin slid into the seat across from him, his tie a mess, a stolen piece of Taesan's kimbap in his hand.
"Yo, Taesan, you're practically famous now," Do-jin said, grinning as he chewed. "Min-soo's been quiet, but people can't stop talking about that alley showdown. You're, like, the king of Noryangjin High."
Taesan closed his notebook, forcing a smirk. "Not a king, man. Just done being a punching bag." The sight of Do-jin, alive and oblivious to the car crash that loomed in his future, was a bittersweet ache. Taesan couldn't tell him about the time-travel, the markets, or the vow to save him. Not yet.
Do-jin leaned forward, his grin softening into concern. "For real, though, you okay? You're pushing yourself hard—school, that dojang, whatever you're scribbling in that notebook. Don't burn out, yeah?"
Taesan met his gaze, the weight of his knowledge pressing hard. "I'm fine," he said, his voice steady. "Just got a lot to prove." Do-jin's faith was a spark, but it came with a weight—the pressure to protect him, to rewrite his fate.
Do-jin nodded, clapping his shoulder. "You're a beast, man. Just don't forget to chill sometimes. Let's kick the ball around later, okay?"
Taesan laughed, the sound easing the tension in his chest. "Deal. But you're buying the soda when we're rich."
After school, Taesan headed to the market for another gig, helping a vendor unload crates of vegetables for a quick 12,000 won. The work was grueling, his muscles sore from the dojang, but each coin was a brick in his empire. The vendor, an older man with a weathered face, tossed him an extra tangerine. "Keep working like that, kid, and you'll go far," he said.
Taesan nodded, pocketing the fruit, the small gesture warming him despite the ache in his arms. But as he left the market, he caught sight of Min-soo Kang across the street, alone, his eyes locked on Taesan with a cold intensity. No cronies this time, just Min-soo's silent menace. Taesan's pulse quickened, but he kept walking, his posture steady. Min-soo didn't move, didn't speak, but the message was clear: This isn't over.
At Choi's Taekwondo & Hapkido Academy that evening, Taesan channeled his unease into training, the dojang's thwack of kicks and shouts of effort a release for his tension. Master Choi's voice boomed as Taesan practiced a taekwondo front kick, his form sharper, the movement flowing from his core. "Jang! Good! Now add speed!" Choi barked, his stern face betraying a flicker of pride.
Across the mat, Noah Park worked through a hapkido wrist lock, his lanky frame steadier, his focus razor-sharp. Taesan caught his eye, offering a nod, and Noah returned it, their bond growing stronger with each session. Taesan's mind flashed to Noah's future—a tech titan who'd reshape industries. He's not there yet, but he's mine to guide.
Choi paired Taesan with Hye-jun for sparring, the wiry senior grinning as they squared off. "Heard you're a legend now, Jang," Hye-jun teased, lunging with a quick jab. "Let's see if you fight like one."
Taesan blocked, his reflexes honed by weeks of drills, and countered with a side kick that caught Hye-jun's ribs, earning a surprised grunt. "Not bad," Hye-jun said, rubbing his side with a grin. The spar continued, each move a testament to Taesan's growing strength, though the bruise on his shoulder ached with every block.
As the session ended, Noah approached, wiping his brow. "People are saying you scared Min-soo off," he said, his shy smile tinged with awe. "That's… kind of amazing."
Taesan grinned, slinging his towel over his shoulder. "He's not scared, just waiting. You're getting tougher too, Noah. Keep it up, and you'll be unstoppable."
Noah's eyes lit up, a flicker of confidence breaking through. "Thanks, man. Feels good to have someone in my corner."
Choi's voice cut through. "Jang! Park! Save the hero talk for after class!" They bowed, sharing a quick laugh, and Taesan felt the pieces of his plan solidifying—Do-jin's trust, Noah's potential, Choi's guidance, the coins in his pocket.
Walking home under Noryangjin's neon glow, the stars faint against the city's electric haze, Taesan felt the tide turning. Min-soo's silence, Sophie's scrutiny, the mystery of his return—they were challenges he'd face head-on. The coins in his pocket, the strength in his body, the alliances he was forging—they were the foundation of something unstoppable.
He clenched his fists, his lips curling into a determined grin. The tide's turning, and I'm riding the wave.