(Wednesday, April 17 – 5:30 a.m.)
Before the sun brushed the windows, Namsoo was already awake. His body craved rest, but his mind had other plans. There was work to do.
He dressed silently. Tied his shoelaces precisely, adjusted his sweatshirt, and went out for a run through still-sleeping streets. The air had that coldness that signals it's too early for everything... except for moving forward.
(6:28 a.m. – Cho Institute)
Master Cho was already there. Standing with his arms crossed, in front of a new row of mats. No one else was around. Only raw technique.
That day was different. Fewer corrections, more repetitions. Cho wasn't looking for mistakes, but endurance. He watched what Namsoo endured, not what he failed at.
He asked him to attack from awkward angles, from low stances. At the end of the circuit, he forced him to repeat the evasive and spinning sequence without rest.
"You've improved a lot," Cho said without looking at him when finished.
Namsoo didn't reply. He just nodded while drying sweat from his face. It was no longer just training. It was internal architecture.
(7:41 a.m. – House)
Quick shower. Warm water, neutral soap. The ribs hurt less. The joints didn't complain as much. He dried his hair with precise movements, as if the day had a manual.
He put on the J High uniform. This time, it fit better. The collar sat well, the shoulders aligned better. Maybe it was the body. Maybe the posture. Maybe he was aligning himself with what he projected.
(8:07 a.m. – Fashion Department Classroom)
Everything seemed normal.
Until Yui appeared next to Daniel Park.
Her appearance was kind, sweet, almost perfect. Straight hair, measured smile.
"I saw your performance at the festival," she said softly. "The song was very good. I thought this would suit you."
She pulled out a branded, elegant wallet, expensive at first glance.
Daniel smiled, uncomfortable.
"Thanks, but… it's too much for me. Sorry."
She tilted her head, maintaining her gentle smile.
(12:41 p.m. – Lunch)
Sitting as always. Daniel, Jiho, Duke… and Namsoo. But Daniel seemed distracted. Lost.
It was probably because of Yui. Although her smile seemed genuine, it was superficial.
Namsoo decided to break the tension.
"Hey, Daniel… you look a bit lost. Maybe you're in love."
Daniel blushed slightly. He looked down.
"No… I'm just thinking about other things," he replied nervously.
Duke intervened, shy.
"I'm making music at Paprika… trying out rhythms."
Jiho raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"Really? Good luck."
Namsoo smiled.
"That's great for you. You have a lot of talent for that."
Duke looked down with a fleeting smile.
(3:09 p.m. – Behind the school building)
Namsoo went to find Doo Lee. He found him with his henchmen, smoking and talking about trivial things. Seeing him, they tensed.
"Let's go… relax. I'm not coming with bad intentions," he said neutrally.
Doo made a gesture and his companions stepped back.
"What do you want?"
"Straight to the point. Give me your number."
He hesitated. Namsoo wrote it down in his phone.
"After classes, go to this address. Wear a mask that covers your face well. Nothing flashy. Understood?"
Doo nodded. He didn't ask questions. He knew he had no room for doubt.
(6:37 p.m. – Street)
With the wrapped packages, Namsoo arrived at the agreed point. Doo was there, wearing a hoodie, cap, and mask. Nervous but functional.
Namsoo handed him the first package.
"Deliver this. Don't ask questions. Just do it. And don't say anything unnecessary."
Doo left without arguing.
The buyer received it without issue. Two more deliveries followed the same pattern. No traces. No betrayal.
It had been a test. If Doo was attacked or interrogated, he would serve as bait. But the buyers were real. Namsoo wanted to confirm that DripForce didn't attract scammers.
In the end, he got his payment: discreet, but enough.
"Keep this secret. Or you know what I have," he said, waving the phone with compromising photos of Doo and his henchmen.
Doo didn't answer. But his expression said everything.
(8:14 p.m. – Alley)
Namsoo felt lighter. Not because of the money, or the sales. But because everything had gone smoothly.
What's next? Maybe gaining more combat experience. Being a merchant only works if you can protect your stock.
He walked through the alleys.
He took out the black bag he had stored and put it on his head.
He advanced with firm steps. And there they were. Three thugs. Smoking. R laughing.
One with a torn jacket, another with a worn iron bat, and the third with chains around his neck and a cruel smile.
"Who's this little guy?" laughed the guy in the jacket.
"Maybe he's here for our lunch or his kidney," added the one with the bat.
They had already surrounded him.
The chain guy spun his weapon like a whip, aiming to wrap around Namsoo's torso. But he stepped forward just as the spin began. He caught it with his bare hand. The metal scraped his forearm, leaving a bleeding line.
He spun on his axis, using the attacker's momentum to slam him against the wall. The impact was harsh but insufficient. He grabbed his collar and threw him to the ground. He hit with a hollow sound. He didn't get up.
The second one raised the bat and swung. Namsoo slipped under the attack. The bat hit the wall. He took the opportunity to perform a spinning sweep. The thug fell. Namsoo stomped on his leg hard. The bone cracked. The scream was agonizing.
The third lunged with quick fists. Namsoo didn't back down.
He tilted his head left at the exact moment. The punch missed.
He deflected the second with his elbow. Blocked the third with his bloodied arm.
Countered with an upward kick to the solar plexus. The thug's body arched. He fell to his knees.
Namsoo gathered momentum.
He punched his jaw with a full kick. His head spun. His feet left the ground. He fell silent. A red puddle expanded beneath him, along with fragments of teeth and lost breath.
Namsoo remained standing. Breathing slowly.
Three bodies on the ground.
With this, he confirms that what he trains… works.
(Friday, April 19 – 2:42 p.m.)
The rest of the week had passed in a silent pattern. Training at the Cho Institute in the mornings, classes at high school in the afternoons, some minor shopping at DripForce. Nothing outside the system. But that day, when he entered the classroom, something changed.
Zack Lee called him. His expression was usual: half serious, but with a curious kindness he didn't usually show.
"Namsoo. You usually navigate the internet pretty well, right? I can't find some limited edition shoes. Can you help me get them?"
Namsoo paused for a moment.
That… that had happened in the original webtoon.
But it was strange. He didn't wear flashy clothes. Just normal high school attire—functional, without visible brand markings. Nothing that suggested he knew about sneakers.
Although, now that he thought about it… maybe that was normal.
Namsoo had been quite materialistic in the past. Brand clothes, unnecessary accessories, an obsession with aesthetics. Maybe, even now, that image still haunted him. Maybe Zack remembered him that way. Maybe he thought he still was that type.
And honestly… he wasn't entirely wrong. After all, who doesn't like money?
He also remembered what was coming. The idiot who had fooled the old Namsoo. That moment… just thinking about it made him angry.
He smiled at Zack.
"I can't promise anything. But I'll see what I can do."
Zack looked puzzled by his tone. But it was obvious why—because the old Namsoo wouldn't have spoken like that. He lowered his head. This… was not him.
(5:06 p.m. – Namsoo's Room)
He spent hours searching. Local sites, forums, collector pages. No decent offers. Some scams outright. Others asking absurd amounts.
Until he found an account with a blurry picture of the shoes. The profile belonged to a girl with brown hair and a sweet expression. Hyeri. He remembered her. Kind, somewhat innocent… but the idiot surrounding her was trash. Woojin.
He called her phone. But the response was not a girl's voice. It was his.
The deal was quick. He would go pick them up tomorrow.
(Saturday, April 20 – 8:57 a.m. – House)
He informed Zack by phone:
"I'm going to get the shoes."
Zack responded surprised.
"You… you're going? You don't have to."
"Relax. I was going to that area anyway. I want to make sure it's not a scam. Just trust me."
Zack shrugged.
"Well… if you're going, it's more convenient. Thanks, Namsoo."
Namsoo asked for more money. Calculated the expenses and demanded some extra. Zack didn't argue. 450,000 won transferred to his account.
(4:17 p.m. – Alley)
"Ready?" Namsoo said to Doo Lee, who accompanied him with a cap and backpack. "Just act normal. I used your profile to manage the purchase."
Doo would go as the buyer. They'd take him to the alley. And at the exact moment, Namsoo would show up.
Doo followed the address. Waited.
A girl appeared. Beautiful. Brown hair, proportional body, worried face. Hyeri.
"Are you the one who wants the shoes?" she asked guilty.
Doo barely managed to reply. But before he could say anything, two guys appeared from behind. One skinny, one fat.
"Look ahead," ordered the skinny. "Act like we're your friends. If you do anything weird… you're dead. Smile."
They pushed him inside the alley.
(4:29 p.m. – Inside the alley)
Doo was pressed against a wall. Woojin was counting money with an arrogant expression.
Hyeri, annoyed, spoke from behind.
"Stop using my photo! It's annoying! Are you listening?"
Woojin didn't answer. He looked at Doo with disdain.
"It would've been easier if you just deposited it. Such a useless guy."
He approached.
"Piss off."
Then Namsoo appeared. With the black bag on his head. Absolute silence.
"Who's this idiot?" laughed someone. "Playing the hero?"
The skinny guy stepped forward with a direct kick, but Namsoo dodged just in time. He evaded, caught the leg with his arm, and swept the supporting leg. The guy fell. Without wasting time, Namsoo lifted his leg and stomped on his neck. Repeated kicks left him unconscious.
The fat one tried to grab him. Namsoo dodged, responded with a slap to the jaw, and a kick to the thigh. He grabbed his wrist and applied a downward leverage. Moved at a blind spot, swept his supporting leg, and before he fell, jumped to finish with a stomp to the face. Silence.
Woojin lunged with quick jabs. Namsoo stepped forward, grabbed his wrist, pulled him off balance, and delivered a straight knee to the face, followed by a punch. Then another leverage to pin him down. Held his arm and hit him hard in the face, and that was enough.
Hyeri screamed. Worried. Tears held back.
"Sorry! But please, enough already! They're not so bad…!"
Namsoo raised his hands in a sign to calm her.
"Why are you with these idiots?"
She didn't answer.
Namsoo sighed.
"Well… not my problem."
He looked at Doo.
"Take everything. Shoes. Clothes. The money."
Doo obeyed. While gathering everything, Namsoo approached Hyeri.
"Your phone."
She, confused and a little nervous, handed it over unsure. He wrote her number and gave it back.
"If you want to change your life… talk to me."
(5:03 p.m. – Outside the alley)
Namsoo walked with Doo. The loaded backpack on his shoulder. The air still thick, as if the walls still held the tension of the confrontation. His body was a bit battered, though his knuckles ached more from the punches he threw, but his step remained steady.
He thought of Hyeri.
The reason he asked for her phone had nothing to do with infatuation. It was something else.
By observing her carefully, he noticed something clear: good presence, attractive face, expression that could connect. If she made videos at Papikra, she could generate income. In this world, appearance opened doors that only outstanding people could enter. And Hyeri had that kind of look.
Namsoo hoped she would contact him. If she did… he could start something new. Something useful. Something that would allow him to make more money.