Chapter 15
Blood on the Bridge
The rain hadn't stopped since that night.
Sung Ho wandered through the city with hollow eyes, his school uniform clinging damp against his skin. His ribs ached from the last beating, but it was his pride that hurt more—shattered, ground into mud beneath Xin Min's shoes.
Everywhere he went, he felt the laughter. Even when no one was near, it echoed in his ears. Bark, dog. Bark for me.
By the time his steps carried him to the old bridge on the outskirts of the city, he didn't know if he had meant to come here or if his legs had chosen for him. The bridge stretched across the swollen river, its rusted railings slick with rain. The current below churned violently, as if hungry.
He leaned against the railing, staring into the black water. It would be easy. Just one step. No more barking. No more pain.
But before he could move, voices cut through the storm.
"Well, well. Look who we found."
Sung Ho's heart stopped. He turned.
Xin Min and his goons stood at the entrance of the bridge, their umbrellas useless against the wind. Their uniforms were neat, their shoes polished—untouched by the filth of the world. Xin Min's smile was sharp, predatory.
"Running away, little dog?" he asked, walking closer. The sound of his expensive shoes on the wet concrete echoed like gunshots.
The goons spread out, blocking every exit.
Sung Ho backed away until the railing dug into his spine.
"Please," he whispered, though he didn't know what he was begging for. Mercy? Death?
Xin Min tilted his head, as though considering it. Then he slapped Sung Ho hard across the face. The crack rang out in the rain.
"Pathetic," Xin Min spat. "You really thought you could hide from me? You'll bark when I say bark. You'll crawl when I say crawl."
He gestured, and two of the goons grabbed Sung Ho by the arms, forcing him down to his knees. His legs scraped against the rough concrete, skin splitting. Blood mixed with rain.
"Bark," Xin Min ordered.
The goons laughed, tightening their grip.
Something inside Sung Ho snapped. The humiliation, the pain, the endless silence of those who should have helped—it all boiled over at once. His vision swam red.
"No," he whispered.
Xin Min frowned. "What?"
Sung Ho's head shot forward. With all the strength left in his body, he slammed his forehead into Xin Min's face. The crunch of bone echoed through the storm.
Xin Min staggered back, clutching his nose. Blood gushed between his fingers, mixing with the rain.
"You little—" he snarled, but before he could finish, Sung Ho wrenched free from the goons and shoved one of them with everything he had.
The boy stumbled, his foot slipping on the slick concrete. His head smashed against the railing with a wet crack. A piece of his skull split, white bone flashing through torn skin, and he collapsed in a heap.
The laughter died.
For the first time, fear flickered in Xin Min's eyes
For a moment, everything was silent except the pounding rain.
The first goon lay sprawled against the railing, his skull cracked open like an egg. Blood seeped across the concrete, mixing with rainwater until the crimson diluted into pink rivulets that dripped into the raging river below. His eyes stared blankly at the sky, wide, glassy, unblinking.
Sung Ho stood frozen, chest heaving, hardly believing what he had done. His forehead throbbed, warm blood trickling down from the self-inflicted wound of the headbutt. His breath came ragged, each gulp of air louder than the storm.
The second goon finally broke the silence."You… you killed him," he stammered, his face pale beneath the rain.
Xin Min wiped the blood from his broken nose and glared with venom. "Don't just stand there! Kill him!"
The second goon, trembling but obedient, charged forward. His fist slammed into Sung Ho's stomach, folding him in half. Sung Ho gagged, bile rising in his throat as he stumbled backward, the railing digging into his spine again.
Another punch crashed into his jaw, snapping his head sideways. His vision blurred. Blood filled his mouth. He could hear Xin Min laughing—high, sharp, manic.
"You're finished, dog!" the goon shouted, drawing back for another blow.
Something primal flared in Sung Ho. His vision tunneled, focusing on the boy's fist, the sneer on his lips, the mocking laughter behind him. He ducked at the last second, letting the punch swing past. With desperate strength, Sung Ho threw his shoulder into the goon's chest, ramming him backward.
The goon stumbled. His foot skidded against the slick concrete. His arms flailed wildly as he tried to catch the railing—but his hand slipped on the rain-slicked metal.
"Wait—!"
His cry was drowned out by the storm as his body tipped over the side. For a split second, Sung Ho saw the boy's face twisted in terror, mouth open wide, eyes bulging. Then he was gone, swallowed by the black waters below.
There was a splash, loud even over the thunder. Then nothing.
Sung Ho staggered back, his body trembling violently. His knees nearly buckled. One goon lay dead at his feet, skull shattered, while the other was already being dragged away by the furious river.
Xin Min's laughter had stopped.
For the first time, the predator looked shaken. His expensive clothes clung to him in the rain, his face streaked with both blood and water. His fists clenched and unclenched, his breathing sharp and uneven.
"You…" he whispered, his voice low and dangerous.
Sung Ho met his gaze with hollow eyes. "I didn't mean to…" His voice cracked. "I didn't…"
Xin Min's lips curled into a snarl. "Shut up. You're dead, Sung Ho. Do you hear me? Dead."
The two boys stood on the bridge, the storm raging around them. Between them, the corpse of the first goon bled out quietly, his blood dripping steadily into the river.
The bridge had become a graveyard. And it was not finished yet.