Morning came with an annoying buzz. The alarm on his cell phone. Without the landlady's shrill voice yelling him awake, the silence of his room felt strange.
Jihyeon opened his eyes with difficulty. His whole body hurt, as if every muscle were protesting the battle of the day before. His hands were bandaged, the knuckles split from the blows, throbbing under the wraps.
With effort, he sat up and began to get dressed. The school uniform was quite simple, white shirt, red tie and gray pants. In front of the mirror, he saw scattered bruises, still-fresh cuts, split lips. He washed his face, put band-aids over the most visible cuts and combed his hair down. The reflection that looked back at him was not that of an exemplary student, but at least decent enough to go unnoticed… except for the face marked by violence.
He sighed and left the apartment. The sun greeted him with a blinding glare and the neighborhood wrapped him in its usual smell: trash, rancid dampness, dry air. This time, however, he did not twist his face.
With a half cynical smile, he murmured in a low voice.
"Yes, it's a miserable place… but better than before."
Because now, for Jihyeon, all of that was only the beginning.
The walk to school felt longer than expected. The memories of the body he inhabited were confusing, incomplete, and at times he felt lost. But in the end he found the right classroom.
Upon entering, his eyes immediately swept the place, observing each student quickly. He had no intention of socializing, but one detail caught his attention.
Among everyone, he distinguished a thin boy, round face, black hair in a bowl cut. There was nothing special about him at first sight… and yet, Jihyeon felt an echo in his memory. He had seen him somewhere. He didn't remember where, but that feeling persisted in his mind, like a blocked memory.
Ignoring him, he walked to his seat. He took a notebook and a pencil from his backpack and, without looking at anyone else, dropped into the chair. He pressed the pencil tip to the paper, writing.
He didn't pay attention to the class or the teacher's voice; his thoughts were somewhere else. He was outlining his next steps, what to do next.
Time flew until the bell announced the arrival of recess. While the others stood up, chatted and laughed, he didn't move from his place. After all, he had no friends or anyone close he remembered, so he kept writing, absorbed, until a shout rang out in the classroom.
A shout so loud it forced him to stop his pencil. His gaze rose, and Jihyeon's eyes locked on the source of the uproar.
"Dowan Ha, bastard!"
The rough voice echoed in the classroom, breaking the silence at once. Jihyeon looked up and saw him, a guy with silver hair, gray eyes like steel, and an arrogant sneer that immediately gave him away as the typical bully.
In front, Dowan received a punch straight to the face, followed by a brutal kick that sent him to the floor. There, without mercy, Chulwoo Min unloaded on him a rain of punches and kicks. Each impact boomed in the empty classroom, filling it with a dry, raw violence.
"Dowan…" Jihyeon repeated in his mind, as if the name lit a spark in his memory. It sounded familiar, too familiar. And suddenly, the revelation pierced him like lightning. This place… these people… damn.
He had fallen into the world of Reality Quest, that manhwa he had read in his past life.
Dowan… the supposed protagonist. The classic loser, destined to receive that typical mission system that would change his life. But for Jihyeon, that detail was the least important. What mattered was what it meant. This world is murky, much more than I ever imagined. Full of unknown things… and I'm trapped in it.
His murmur slipped out almost inaudibly.
"…Damn."
At that moment, the door opened with a metallic creak. A female voice interrupted the tension.
"Dowan, I just came to get my phone…"
The girl who came in had long hair, warm blue eyes, and a spotless uniform, the short skirt swaying with her hurried step. Seeing the scene, she froze.
"Ahrin…?" murmured Dowan, with his face bloodied and his eyes wide with surprise. Why did she come back…?
He couldn't think anymore. Chulwoo's fist smashed him against the teacher's desk, making the wood crack under the impact.
"Dowan!" Ahrin screamed, throwing herself toward him.
The bully let out a low laugh.
"Don't play weak, bastard. Get up!" he growled, pulling Dowan again to keep hitting him.
"Chulwoo Min!" Ahrin screamed, desperate, coming closer to stop him.
Chulwoo didn't even look at her. When the girl dared grab his wrist, he turned slowly, with a grimace of annoyance.
"Tsk… ah, damn. You're a bitch too annoying."
With a yank, he let go of Dowan and faced her. He grabbed her hair violently, tearing a moan of pain from her.
"Let go of me!" Ahrin shouted, struggling, but he only squeezed harder, enjoying her suffering.
Tired of her screams, he raised his hand in fury, ready to slap her.
While everything happened, Jihyeon watched from his seat, caught in a dilemma. His body was still a mess from what happened the day before: the bandaged knuckles, the bruises hidden under the uniform and the pain that accompanied him at each breath. He could intervene… but was it worth it? He knew: sooner or later, Dowan would awaken the system, that same one that would grant him the abilities necessary to face Chulwoo and his future enemies. The most sensible thing was to wait. Observe.
And just as he had foreseen, right at the instant Chulwoo raised his hand to hit Ahrin, Dowan reacted.
"Stop!" he shouted, lunging forward with a fist full of desperation.
His blow was caught easily by Chulwoo's hand, who smiled with contempt. And, without hesitation, he unleashed a brutal punch to Dowan's face.
Jihyeon frowned. "Is it now…?" he thought.
And at that instant, something changed.
In an unexpected outburst, Dowan's eyes shone with a strange intensity. His fists began to move at an inhuman speed, unleashing a burst of quick and forceful blows against Chulwoo's face.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Each impact boomed like a drum in the silent room. The bully's smug expression broke, replaced by bewilderment and, finally, pain. His face deformed under the rain of punches until he fell unconscious to the floor.
Silence was absolute.
"…" Ahrin looked at him wide-eyed, shocked, unable to process what she had just witnessed.
Dowan, on the other hand, panted with a mix of exhaustion and euphoria. His lips drew an excited smile; in his gaze shone something new, something dangerous.
Jihyeon didn't take his eyes off him. He was impressed. He hadn't thought it was as exaggerated as in the manhwa… but he had just seen it with his own eyes. A common boy, a nerd without special skills, was about to be defeated and suddenly everything had changed.
That power… did not belong to this world. It was the beginning of the system. The secret weapon that turned Dowan into a cheat protagonist.
"…So it started," murmured Jihyeon, like someone watching something inevitable.
However, Jihyeon Kwak felt a fire burn inside him, a bitter mix of rage, sadness and… envy. Who wouldn't? Who would reject a system that gives you power, missions and rewards? Only an idiot.
The injustice of the situation consumed him. In a world where effort and dedication should be the true currency, Dowan was the embodiment of the opposite. He obtained abilities without sacrifice, without sweat, without paying the price. A simple receiver of those absurd systems that give power as if it were a cheap toy.
While the boy celebrated his victory, surrounded by incredulous looks, Jihyeon wondered if in this world there was a space for real justice. A justice where merit and sacrifice could shine above the whims of fate.
He couldn't stay there, consumed in his impotence. He stood up without drawing attention, not even turning to look at Dowan. He walked through the hallways, each step taking him away from that rage, but also pushing him toward an inevitable decision.
In a dark corner, where the light barely slipped between the dusty windows, he stopped. There, in the silence, he felt how the anger transformed into something new: determination.
It was not the overflowing burst of power he had seen in Dowan. His was different. More subtle. A latent spark deep inside him awakened, as if it had been waiting for this moment. Not a gifted power… but an iron will, something that could become his true weapon.
He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a smile, almost theatrical, but loaded with decision.
"I guess it's time to give my best performance."
He could not allow himself to be a loser again. Now with a new opportunity he had to do everything possible not to remain trapped in mediocrity.