It was four o'clock.
The low hum of chatter filled the air as students streamed into the gym. The polished wooden floor gleamed beneath the bright overhead lights, every bounce and shuffle echoing sharply off the walls.
The bleachers were already packed — a sea of uniforms and restless excitement. Some leaned forward eagerly, phones ready to record. Others whispered bets like gamblers before a storm.
"Fifty says Kang Min-Seok wins!""Are you kidding? He's the Min-Seok—of course he'll win!""Ten on the quiet guy. Jae-Hyun's got something about him…"
Their voices tangled in the air like electric static.
The scent of varnished wood and faint sweat lingered in the air — the smell of adrenaline and competition.
At center court, Min-Seok spun the ball on his finger, grin cocky as ever. His shirt clung slightly to his frame, muscles flexing with easy confidence. "You sure you're ready for this, freshman?"
Across from him, Jae-Hyun stood calm, hands in his pockets, as if he'd simply wandered onto the court for a stroll. His white shirt sleeves were rolled neatly to his elbows, revealing lean, well-defined forearms. His uniform hugged his frame just enough — not tight, just enough to suggest the quiet strength beneath. His collar was slightly loose, a single button undone, and that quiet, unreadable look hadn't left his face.
"I'm here, aren't I?" he said evenly.
A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd. Even from a distance, his composure radiated something different — control, quiet command.
Min-Seok tossed the ball once, catching it with a loud slap. "First to fifty. No excuses."
"Fine by me," Jae-Hyun said.
A student dropped their hand in the middle. "Game start!"
The ball smacked against the polished floor with a sharp thud.
Min-Seok was fast — lightning quick off the line. He dribbled low, crossed left, feinted right, and in one smooth pivot, sank the first basket.
The crowd erupted."Let's go, Min-Seok!""That's how it's done!"
He caught the rebound, spun, and within seconds, landed another shot. 4–0.
Jae-Hyun just watched, face unreadable, eyes tracking every movement.
When Min-Seok scored a third, the court thundered with applause. "Three in a row! The legend's on fire!"
Still, Jae-Hyun didn't move faster — he moved smarter.
He caught the next inbound and finally spoke, voice calm enough to cut through the noise.
"That's three. I'll give you that," he said, bouncing the ball slowly once. "But you won't make another basket."
Min-Seok froze mid-step, disbelief flickering across his face. "What?"
Jae-Hyun's grin was faint but sharp. "I let you warm up. Now it's my turn."
The ball hit the court with a rhythmic thump-thump-thump.
Then it began.
Jae-Hyun moved — not just fast, but precise. Each dribble was calculated, each shift of weight designed to pull Min-Seok a step out of sync.
He faked right, spun left — Min-Seok bit. The next instant, Jae-Hyun's footwork blurred, and the ball sliced through the air. Swish.
"Whoa—!" someone yelled."Did you see that move?!"
Min-Seok's eyes widened. He reset, jaw clenched.
Jae-Hyun didn't give him time to breathe. He stole the ball mid-dribble, twisted, and launched another clean three-pointer — swish.
8–6.
Cheers rippled louder now, some switching sides mid-match. "Okay, who is this guy?!""I'm changing my bet!""He's insane!"
Jae-Suk's jaw had dropped open. Tae-Ho looked ready to explode. "Bro—BRO—did you know he could do that?!"
Jae-Suk shook his head, stunned.
Jae-Hyun stole the ball again — this time, with a smirk that bordered on teasing. Min-Seok lunged, but Jae-Hyun spun out of reach, slipping the ball between his legs, stepping back just far enough, and releasing another effortless three-pointer.
Swish.
"Thirteen to six!" a voice from the crowd shouted.
"Impossible!" someone else gasped.
By now, Min-Seok's confidence was cracking. His jaw tightened, sweat sliding down his temple.
Each time he tried to drive, Jae-Hyun intercepted — cleanly, efficiently, with an elegance that bordered on cruel. His movements were too smooth, his expression too calm, like this wasn't a challenge at all — just an afternoon distraction.
He made another layup.Then another.Then a dunk that sent the entire crowd howling.
"NO WAY—did he just dunk over Min-Seok?!""Damn—he's destroying him!"
Tae-Ho cupped his hands around his mouth. "YOOOO JAE-HYUN! IS THERE ANYTHING YOU CAN'T DO?!"
At that, Jae-Hyun turned slightly, a grin tugging at his lips."Oh, you didn't know?" he called back lightly. "Alongside everything else this genius can do — sports aren't an exception."
The crowd exploded. Laughter, cheers, disbelief. Even the girls who had bet on Min-Seok were now squealing.
Min-Seok tried to rally. He wiped his face, grit his teeth, and charged again. But Jae-Hyun was faster. He blocked every angle, predicted every turn. When Min-Seok went up for a jump shot, Jae-Hyun was already there, fingers brushing the ball away midair.
It bounced once — twice — and Jae-Hyun caught it, stepped back, and nailed another clean three.
Forty-eight to six.
The game was practically over.
Min-Seok stood panting, shoulders sagging, the shine of arrogance long gone. His face twisted in frustration, but his body couldn't keep up anymore.
Jae-Hyun caught the final pass, dribbled twice, and looked at him calmly."This is it."
He took two steps forward, leapt ——and slam dunked the ball straight through the hoop.
THUD.
The backboard rattled.
The court went dead silent for a moment — then chaos.
"Fifty to six! He destroyed him!""Unreal! Did that really just happen?!""I swear, he's not human!"
Min-Seok stumbled backward, dropping to sit on the asphalt, eyes blank.
Jae-Hyun landed lightly, barely breathing hard. He reached for the ball, tucked it under one arm, and said evenly, "Just as you promised — you'll leave my classmate alone, and forget the cafeteria accident ever happened."
Then he walked away.
The crowd parted for him. Whispers followed like a wave.
"Did you see that?""He's so cool…""He barely even looked tired!""Wait, why haven't I noticed how handsome he is before?""Right? He's got that quiet hot type!""Do you think he has a girlfriend?""Maybe he's into smart girls—""Or confident ones—"
Laughter and dreamy chatter filled the air.
Meanwhile, Tae-Ho and Jae-Suk met him halfway off the court, still buzzing.
"Bro, you're not human," Tae-Ho said, shaking his head. "You just humiliated the school's top player like it was nothing!"
Jae-Suk chuckled weakly. "You didn't even break a sweat."
Jae-Hyun just gave a small grin. "Guess I'm good at multitasking."
"Multitasking?! That was annihilation!" Tae-Ho cried. "Min-Seok's probably reconsidering his entire career!"
They laughed as they made for the exit, but before they reached the doors, a quiet voice called out.
"Wait—Jae-Hyun!"
They turned.
It was Han Ri-Na, the girl from the cafeteria. Her short hair framed her face, and though her posture was steady, her hands fidgeted with the strap of her bag, her earlier defiance replaced by something gentler.
She stopped a few feet away, cheeks slightly flushed. "I… wanted to thank you. For earlier. You didn't have to step in, but you did."
Jae-Hyun studied her quietly for a second, then replied, voice low but kind. "You don't need to thank me. I just didn't like seeing something unfair."
Ri-Na smiled, small and genuine. "Still… if you ever need help with anything, I owe you."
Jae-Hyun nodded once. "Alright."
She bowed slightly before stepping back. Tae-Ho's grin was instant. "Brooo… she totally likes you."
Jae-Hyun rolled his eyes. "You're imagining things."
Jae-Suk snorted. "No, he's not. you're officially a campus legend."
Tae-Ho laughed. "I think Min-Seok might transfer schools."
Jae-Hyun just smirked, gaze straight ahead. "Let's hope no one spills soup on him again."
They burst out laughing as they disappeared down the hallway, the sound of cheers still echoing faintly behind them — and somewhere, Kang Min-Seok sat alone on the court, staring blankly at the rim, the sound of that last swish still echoing in his head.
That evening, a soft ping broke the silence of Jae-Hyun's room.
He glanced toward the main monitor — a single alert blinking red against the ocean of data on his screen. The tag read:"Unrecognized Access Signature — Hwaseong Dynamics Internal Network."
The faint blue glow lit his face, sharp angles painted in digital light.
He didn't move right away. Instead, his eyes traced the pattern scrolling down the monitor — an unfamiliar IP, masked well, but not perfectly. Whoever it was, they were good. Just… not him-level good.
A quiet hum escaped him — amusement, not concern.
Leaning back, Jae-Hyun reached for his coffee mug. The steam curled lazily toward the light as he took a slow sip, gaze never leaving the flickering numbers.
"Interesting," he murmured. His tone carried no alarm — just curiosity, calm and absolute. "Let's see what you're up to."
He tapped a few keys. A new window opened, lines of data mirroring the intruder's path — like watching footprints appear in real time across fresh snow.
The rogue signal slipped deeper into Hwaseong's systems, weaving through encrypted folders. Jae-Hyun followed, tracing each move from his end, mapping the pattern with surgical precision.
No interference. No counterattack. Not yet.
He preferred to observe first — to learn how the mouse ran before closing the trap.
Minutes passed, punctuated only by the soft hum of the computer and the steady clink of his mug as he set it back down.
Then, with the faintest curl of his lips, he leaned forward again — eyes glinting.
"Go on," he whispered, almost amused. "Show me what you can do."