Chapter 2: High School Hell and Goblin Guts
Days bled into weeks, each one a slow, agonizing lesson in this bizarre new reality. Choi Hyun-woo, the former hero, found himself trapped in the mundane hell of high school. The constant chatter, the petty dramas, the incessant ringing of bells – it was all a cacophony compared to the silence of a dying world and the roar of battle. He spent his time in class feigning attention, his mind miles away, still trying to reconcile the primitive magic of his past with the gleaming, effortless technology of this present.
He devoured every book he could find on "Awakened" individuals and "gates." The more he read, the more he scoffed. These "magical creatures" were pathetic compared to the demons he'd faced. Goblins, ogres, even the so-called "demons" that occasionally appeared in higher-ranked gates were mere shadows of the true horrors he remembered. His inherent racism towards them, born of years of brutal war, only intensified. "Fucking weaklings," he'd often mutter under his breath, earning strange looks from his bewildered classmates.
His strength, however, was undeniable. During physical education, he effortlessly outran, out-jumped, and out-fought every other student, often leaving them gasping for air and nursing bruised egos. He moved with a predatory grace that was unsettling to watch, a stark contrast to the slightly awkward movements of a typical high school student.
This raw power, combined with his cold, handsome features, made him an enigma. The girls, as predicted, were drawn to him like moths to a flame. They'd leave small gifts on his desk, giggle when he walked by, and try to strike up conversations about trivial things like pop idols or fashion. He ignored them, his mind focused on the deeper mysteries of this world. He was polite, mostly, but aloof, his eyes holding a distant, almost haunted quality that only added to his allure.
Then there was Kang Min-ho. The school's resident bully, a thick-necked Neanderthal who seemed to believe his physical bulk equated to actual power. Min-ho had tried to assert his dominance on Hyun-woo early on, a mistake he wouldn't soon forget.
One afternoon, in the bustling school cafeteria, Min-ho, surrounded by his usual pack of flunkies, deliberately tripped Hyun-woo as he walked by with his tray. Food splattered across the floor, and a collective gasp went through the room.
"Oops. My bad, pretty boy," Min-ho sneered, a wide, ugly grin on his face. "Didn't see you there, shorty."
Hyun-woo slowly straightened, his dark eyes fixing on Min-ho. The cafeteria, usually a cacophony of noise, fell silent. Everyone knew Min-ho was a brute. Everyone also knew Choi Hyun-woo was… different.
"Pick it up," Hyun-woo said, his voice a low, dangerous growl that cut through the silence.
Min-ho's grin faltered. "What was that, punk? You gonna make me?"
Hyun-woo took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. "You spilled it. You pick it up. Or I'll make you eat it off the floor, you fat piece of shit."
A ripple of shock went through the cafeteria. No one, absolutely no one, spoke to Kang Min-ho like that. Min-ho's face flushed crimson, his fists clenching.
"You wanna fight, huh? You wanna get your pretty face fucked up?" Min-ho roared, lunging forward.
Hyun-woo moved with a speed that defied human perception. He sidestepped Min-ho's clumsy charge, then his foot shot out, connecting with Min-ho's knee with a sickening crack. Min-ho bellowed, his leg buckling, and he crashed to the floor, clutching his knee and screaming in agony.
"Fucking pathetic," Hyun-woo spat, looking down at the writhing bully. "You call that a fight? You wouldn't last ten seconds in a real one."
Min-ho's friends, initially stunned, now scrambled to their leader's side, their faces pale with fear. Hyun-woo simply walked past them, grabbed a clean tray, and went to get more food, leaving Min-ho writhing on the floor, his screams echoing through the stunned silence of the cafeteria. The message was clear: Choi Hyun-woo was not to be trifled with.
His interactions with Kim Da-eun, however, were entirely different. She was the only one who didn't seem intimidated, or even particularly impressed, by his displays of strength. She observed him with a quiet intensity, her intelligent eyes seeming to peer beyond his cold exterior. She was often found in the school library, surrounded by books on ancient runes and mana theory, topics that, to his surprise, sometimes piqued his interest.
One afternoon, he found her studying a complex diagram of a mana circuit. He leaned over her shoulder, his gaze falling on the intricate lines.
"That's inefficient," he stated, his voice flat.
Da-eun looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Oh? And you're an expert on mana flow, Hyun-woo?"
"I've seen better," he replied, a ghost of a memory flickering in his mind – the glowing, intricate patterns of spells cast by the spellcaster, far more elegant than this crude diagram. "The energy dispersal at the nexus point is too wide. You'll lose at least twenty percent of the output."
Da-eun stared at him, her usual composure cracking. "How… how do you know that?"
He shrugged. "Experience." He couldn't explain that his "experience" came from watching a master mage for years, from fighting alongside her, from understanding the raw, visceral mechanics of magic in a way these academics never could.
She looked at the diagram, then back at him, a new light in her eyes. It wasn't admiration, but a genuine intellectual curiosity. "Show me," she said, pushing the book towards him.
He hesitated, then picked up a pen. With a few swift, precise strokes, he redrew a section of the circuit, tightening the lines, redirecting the flow. Da-eun leaned in, her breath catching as she saw the subtle, yet profound, improvement.
"That's… brilliant," she whispered, her eyes wide. "It's so simple, yet it completely optimizes the flow. Why isn't this in any of the textbooks?"
He shrugged again. "Because your textbooks are written by people who don't truly understand. They just theorize."
From that day on, a strange, unspoken alliance formed between them. She would bring him complex mana theories, and he would offer insights that baffled her, insights born of a world where magic was a brutal, tangible force, not just an academic concept. He found himself enjoying their discussions, a rare intellectual stimulation in this otherwise alien world. Her mind was sharp, her questions challenging, and for the first time, he felt a flicker of something beyond vengeance – a connection that wasn't based on fear or superficial attraction.
He still cursed the "fucking beasts" in his thoughts, still yearned for the day he could return to his world and exact his revenge. But in the quiet moments, learning about this new world, and finding an unexpected intellectual equal in Kim Da-eun, a tiny seed of something new began to grow