I have no choice but to help you, whatever you ask of me..."
Junseo's hand tightened around his. Her eyes, which had held fear moments ago, now hardened with a calculating resolve that made Ajin uneasy. He saw not the frightened girl from his memory, but a sharp-edged ally ready for battle.
"Thank you, Ajin," she said, reverting to the name only he used, confirming their secret pact. "All I need you to do is wait for me."
She quickly pulled back her damp hand and stood up. "I need to go home, dry off, and change before the next class. I can't be late again."
"But... you're still soaking wet," Ajin protested, feeling a rush of protective worry. He looked down at the dark jacket still covering his shoulders. "Take this, at least."
"No," she insisted, shaking her head. "You keep it. It's too small for me, anyway." A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Just try to avoid Jae-o. Don't fight him, don't talk to him. Just sleep."
And with that, she was gone, leaving Ajin alone on the nurse's cot with the scratchy wool of her jacket and the terrible weight of his pledge.
Seonghee's Move
Back in the classroom, the teacher had finally settled the chaos Jae-o caused, sending the bully out into the hall to cool off.
Seonghee covertly held Jae-o's phone, the cryptic message about the "account book" burning in her mind. Her earlier desire to expose Junseo, fueled by spite and jealousy, now had a focal point. This wasn't about a boy or a rivalry; it was about leverage.
An account book... and she's the owner? Seonghee thought, tracing the message with her finger. I knew that girl wasn't just some innocent transfer student.
She remembered the way Junseo had looked at Ajin, possessive and intense. She remembered the lie Junseo had told her just yesterday: "I only transferred here to get away from a stalker..." Seonghee hadn't believed it then, but now she was certain that Junseo's story was a cover for something far more significant, something tied to money and secrets.
Seonghee had an objective too—an entirely different one, which involved getting her own hands on that book. She slipped the phone into her skirt pocket, a cold, calculating grin forming on her face.
"I'm not going to tell anyone what I saw," she murmured, leaning back in her seat. "The 'Book Owner' will look over the account book tomorrow. That means I have until then to figure out what it is, and more importantly, how I can use it to my advantage."
The game had just changed. It was no longer a petty school drama, but a three-way entanglement between Ajin's desperate loyalty, Junseo's hidden agenda, and Seonghee's quiet ambition. All eyes were now on the next day, and the mysterious account book that promised to unravel everything.
Will Ajin realize the true depth of Junseo's plans before he's too far involved?

The New Rule
The promise I made to Junseo in the nurse's office, born of a haunting past, weighed on me. When I finally left the school and walked through the gate, the damp chill from the rain felt heavy, matching the gloom in my stomach.
I was heading straight home, just as Junseo had suggested. As I walked, I realized the one person I had managed to avoid all day—Jae-o, the extorter—was waiting for me. He was standing outside a convenience store, casually chewing something, his posture aggressive.
"Hey, I," Jae-o started, his voice a mocking imitation of my tone. He stopped mimicking and his face snapped to anger. "You're late! Where have you been, huh?".
I didn't answer right away. I had told him clearly in the hallway that we weren't to talk at school. Now, he was waiting outside, trying to enforce his control.
"You should've been here the moment school let out!" he snapped, stepping closer. "You're always on time when you're paying me!".
I looked him straight in the eyes. The fury from earlier, the one that had let me shove him, was gone, replaced by a cold certainty that this needed to end.
"I told you, no talking at school," I said quietly, repeating the rule.
Jae-o laughed, a short, nasty sound. "And now you think you can tell me where I can and can't talk to you?". He tilted his head, his smile fading into a sneer. "It's only the first rule, and you're already breaking it. Pay attention, I," he spat out, still using my name to mock me.
He pulled a small, black object from his pocket—my burner phone—and held it up. He knew this was the key to my communication, the line to my life outside of school.
"I'll be texting you the location every time I want to see you. Now," he commanded, dropping the pretense of a social interaction, "let's go. We're going over the details of your debt.".
The Price of Silence
We walked to a secluded spot in a neighborhood park. Jae-o pulled out a folded notebook—the account book Seonghee had messaged about. This was the physical record of my misery.
He opened it to a page covered in numbers.
"Here are the interest payments you missed," he declared, tapping the ledger. "It's piled up to 250,000 Won in total.".
I stared at the number, the original amount I'd borrowed, now re-appearing as pure interest. The cycle felt endless.
"So, you want me to pay you 5,000 Won every day, right?" I asked, my voice flat. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the money, folding a small stack of bills into his palm. "Here you go. 5,000 Won.".
He looked down at the money, then back up at me with utter contempt. "Five thousand Won? Is that all?". He threw the money back at me. "Don't you dare pay me that pathetic amount after making me wait!".
The money fluttered to the ground, a humiliating display of my helplessness. I had paid, but it wasn't enough. The rules—of silence, of timeliness, of payment—were his to change, his to enforce.
I was caught between the bullies demanding payment and the old friend, Junseo, demanding loyalty and action. The price of my survival had just doubled.
The bills Jae-o had thrown fluttered on the damp asphalt. The sight of my meager offering, 5,000 Won, scattered like trash twisted something cold inside me. I had paid, but it wasn't enough. With Jae-o, it was never enough.
"Don't you dare pay me that pathetic amount after making me wait!" he'd yelled, his face contorted in disgust.
I stared at the money for a moment, then at the bully. My exhaustion was gone, replaced by a surge of pure, white-hot fury. I bent down, not to pick up the bills, but to look at the ground.
I wanted to hit him. The thought was so clear, so overwhelming, it nearly made me tremble. I saw his smug, entitled face, and all I could think about was the dark, bloody red from my nightmares, the crimson stain I'd spent my life running from. No. Not here. Not again.
I straightened up slowly, my fists clenched tight inside my pockets. I looked away from the money and straight past Jae-o, focusing on the dark shadows stretching toward us.
"How much do you want?" I asked, my voice dangerously low. I knew the number he gave me wouldn't matter. It was about control, not currency.
Jae-o smirked, reveling in his power. He folded his arms, puffing out his chest. "I'll send you a text with the amount," he declared. "For now, you'll be giving me 20,000 Won every day, starting tomorrow."
He was quadrupling the daily payment. This was a shakedown, open and obvious. He spun around, ready to walk away and savor his victory.
"What about the phone?" I asked, interrupting his retreat.
He pulled my little burner phone from his pocket and tossed it casually, forcing me to catch it awkwardly. "I'll text you a meeting place. If you don't show up in time, I'll send the details of your debt—and your face—to the entire school."
The threat was explicit: exposure. He knew that the shame, the attention, would destroy the fragile peace I'd built.
He walked off, whistling a lazy tune, leaving me alone with the fallen money and the heavy knowledge of tomorrow's impossible debt.
The Message
I picked up the scattered bills, my hands shaking slightly. Then, I looked at the phone in my hand, the one Jae-o had been carrying. I hadn't even checked it since he took it.
I tapped the screen, and the notification immediately appeared. It wasn't from Jae-o, but a recent text he must have received, an urgent, frantic message that stopped my breath.
"Jae-o, you're not in class, are you? Hurry and come out! Seonghee came to school today because of the account book!"
My mind raced, connecting the dots. Seonghee was the one Junseo was scared of. The "account book" was the ledger Jae-o had just been holding. And now, Junseo was gone, and Seonghee was hunting for the very information that could ruin all of us.
Why is Seonghee after the ledger? And why does Junseo want me to help her get rid of Seonghee?
I felt a cold dread settle deeper than any of Jae-o's threats. Jae-o was a predictable problem, a bully I could calculate. But Junseo, with her whispered pleas and shared past, and now Seonghee, with her sudden, calculating interest in the debt, were pulling me into something far more dangerous.
My phone vibrated in my hand—a new text.
"20,000 Won. Park gate. 3 PM. Don't be late."
- J
I stared at the screen, the number mocking me. I had less than twenty-four hours to come up with four times the money, deal with Junseo's vengeful plan, and somehow navigate the threat of Seonghee's discovery. The quiet life I craved was dissolving, replaced by a storm I didn't know how to survive.
The Night Shift
I stared at the crumpled money and the cold message on my phone: "20,000 Won. Park gate. 3 PM. Don't be late." Jae-o was escalating, tightening the noose. The sudden four-fold increase in my daily payment made the situation desperate.
I had to work. The simple, grueling labor of the night shift was my only way to scrape together the money and, ironically, the only time I felt truly safe from the bullies and the past.
The fluorescent lights of the convenience store hummed, casting a sterile glow on the aisles. I was stocking the shelves when a familiar chime sounded, and I looked up to see a customer. It was Junseo.
She was no longer in her damp uniform. She wore a dark, oversized hoodie, and her hair was tied back, giving her a sharp, practical look. She was holding a large, pink travel bag, its size awkwardly large for a simple visit to the store.
"Ajin," she murmured, using my secret name again. She spoke low, clearly not wanting to be overheard. "Did you see my text?"
I nodded, my gaze flickering from her intense eyes to the bulky bag. "Yeah, I saw it. The one about Seonghee..."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping even further. "Listen, I can't stay long. I have to go out and meet someone." She glanced around quickly, then back at me. "I need you to keep this for me.".
She lifted the heavy pink bag and placed it on the counter between us. "It has all the documents I need. Don't let anyone see it. Especially Seonghee.".
I hesitated, looking from her tense face to the opaque pink bag. Documents? Was this related to the account book Seonghee was hunting for? Keeping this bag made me an accomplice, pulling me deeper into her mysterious conflict. But I had already promised.
"Okay," I agreed, picking up the bag. It was surprisingly heavy. "Where should I put it?"
"Hide it under the counter. Don't open it, and for God's sake, don't tell anyone you have it," she insisted, her tone urgent and deadly serious.
"I won't," I confirmed, already slipping the bag into a hidden compartment beneath the register.
She leaned over the counter one last time. "I'll see you tomorrow at school. Just try to avoid Jae-o until then.". She was urging caution, yet she was handing me a ticking bomb.
An Unwanted Visitor
Junseo left as quickly and quietly as she came. I finished restocking the last shelf, the anxiety about the bag and Jae-o's demand mixing into a dull ache in my chest. I glanced at the counter, checking that the bag was completely out of sight.
Suddenly, the store door chimed again. I braced myself for another unwelcome customer, only to find Seonghee standing there. She was dressed casually and looking around the store with a focused intensity that was unnerving.
Why is she here?
She walked straight to the counter. "I'm looking for Jae-o," she said, her eyes sweeping over the aisles, seemingly looking for someone else, but she ended up facing me.
"I haven't seen him," I replied flatly, my posture guarded.
She stared at me, her eyes narrowing. She knew about the account book, and she knew Jae-o was looking for it. The text she saw on Jae-o's phone was clear: she was here for business.
"You're close with Junseo, right?" she asked, her voice turning calculating.
I met her gaze, refusing to give her anything. "Why do you ask?".
She didn't answer the question directly. Instead, she leaned in, her voice low and laced with dangerous knowledge. "Listen. I know Junseo has something important. If you know anything about an 'account book,' you need to tell me.".
My heart hammered. The pink bag was just inches below her elbow. I felt the pressure mounting—Seonghee's direct threat, Junseo's urgent plea, and Jae-o's escalating debt. I was trapped, standing guard over a secret that could destroy all of us.
The Bait and Switch
Seonghee stood across the counter, her eyes cold and calculating.
"You're close with Junseo, right? Why do you ask? Listen. I know Junseo has something important. If you know anything about an 'account book,' you need to tell me," she had pressed, her voice low and dangerous.
I kept my face blank, my pulse hammering in my ears. The pink bag, filled with "documents," was hidden just beneath my hands.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied, hoping my voice sounded more steady than I felt. "And I'm not close with anyone. I just work here."
Seonghee didn't buy it. She leaned in closer, dropping all pretense. "Don't lie to me. I saw the text message—the 'Book Owner' is looking over the account book tomorrow. And I know you and Junseo were close when you were kids."
The past again. Everyone in this town seemed to know just enough of my history to use it against me.
She backed off slightly, her expression shifting to one of chilling confidence. "I'm not asking you to betray her," she said, flashing a dark, manipulative smile. "I'm offering you a chance to protect yourself. Junseo is a liability. She lies. She manipulates."
She reached into her own jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek, black MP3 player. It was slightly damaged, but undeniably expensive.
"I'll bet you know what this is," she continued, holding it out. "She broke my electronic dictionary, and that debt is the reason all this started. I don't care about the money. I care about this."
I knew the story. Jae-o had cited a broken electronic dictionary when he first extorted money from my friend Byeong-jin. Junseo had obviously replaced the broken item, but the debt to Jae-o had already been manufactured.
Seonghee slid the MP3 player across the counter. "I'll give you this. It's proof that this whole debt is a sham," she whispered. "Just tell me where the account book is. That book is the key to everything. You give it to me, and all of this—the debt, the bullying, Junseo's drama—it all goes away.".
I didn't move. My eyes scanned the item. Proof. A clean exit.
Then, the door chimed again. A man I didn't recognize, older, with a focused, almost military air, walked into the store. He wore a severe dark coat and his eyes were sharp.
He scanned the store, his gaze passing over Seonghee and landing immediately on me. "I'm here for the girl," he stated simply. His voice brooked no argument.
Seonghee froze, her hand still resting near the MP3 player. She looked utterly terrified.
"I don't know who you're talking about," I repeated, trying to sound bored, but my heart was hammering at the sudden, violent escalation.
The man didn't waste time. He moved toward Seonghee, his footsteps precise. She backed away rapidly, knocking over a tower of instant ramen. KR-KRASH!
"Why are you looking for me...?" Seonghee stammered, scrambling away from the broken ramen and toward the door. She looked back, throwing a desperate, venomous glare at me.
"If you don't give me the book, you're going to regret this!" she hissed, then bolted out the door.
The man ignored the damage and followed her without a word, disappearing into the night.
I was left alone, surrounded by spilled noodles, the electronic silence of the MP3 player on the counter, and the heavy pink bag hidden beneath my feet. Seonghee wasn't just a petty rival; she was running from something truly dangerous, something that had followed her right into my workplace. And now, I was standing in the middle of it. The time for waiting and avoiding was over. The only person I could trust was the one who was also running. I had to figure out what was in that bag.