The streetlamps flickered dimly as Apollo walked home, knuckles raw and faintly trembling from the leftover adrenaline. His uniform was torn at the sleeve, his lip split, but his expression was calm—almost too calm.
The night breeze cooled the sweat on his skin as he stepped into the narrow alley that led to his home. The hum of the city softened behind him, replaced by the faint rustle of laundry lines swaying in the dark.
The house was quiet when Apollo returned. Only the faint ticking of the kitchen clock filled the silence.
Apollo walked with a slight, almost imperceptible hitch in his step—a souvenir from Tae-min's lucky straight punch. He touched his split lip; it stung, but the pain was a pleasant, grounding anchor. It confirmed the reality of the fight, the rush of adrenaline, and the successful completion of his first objective.
[Mission Complete: "Dominance Establishment – Phase I"] Objective: Defeat Yoon Tae-min within 24 hours. Reward: +3,000 XP | Skill advance coupon
The System message had already shifted, its metallic text now focused on the reward.
"A skill advance coupon," Apollo murmured, slowing his pace as he reached a quiet side street lined with expensive academy buildings. He wasn't sure how to use the coupon, but the utility was obvious. He could feel the improvements from the battle without it—his breathing deeper, his joints looser, his perception of movement calibrated to a finer degree.
He pulled up his internal menu, the interface shimmering only in his vision.
[Updated Physical Condition – Internal Recognition Only]
[ PANEL ]
Name: Apollo Yamazaki Age: 12 Tier: D+ (Stabilized)
System Level: 1 Remaining XP: 3,423
Bloodlines: • Yamazaki – Active (34%) ↑ • ??? – Dormant (Locked – Insufficient System Level)
Attributes:
Strength – D+ Speed – D Reflex – D+ Stamina – C Focus – D Aura – D-
Skills:
Basic Boxing Fundamentals – D+ (15%) Foundation Guard – D- (55%) Observation Step – D- (60%) ↑ Street Kick Combo – D+ (10%) Breathing Regulation – D+ (15%) ↑
Apollo frowned slightly at the XP distribution. The boost had been spread thinly, raising his base stats and contributing to his innate fighting skills.
"Focus first," he decided. The fight with Tae-min had confirmed that if he lost his concentration, his reaction time suffered.
He tapped the 'Skill advance coupon' icon.
[Select Skill to Advance]
Observation Step (D- 60%)
Breathing Regulation (D+ 15%)
Basic Boxing Fundamentals (D+ 15%)
Apollo selected Observation Step. This skill was his core advantage—the ability to read an opponent's kinetic energy. If he could solidify it, future fights would be less of a brawl and more of a prediction exercise.
[Skill Advance Coupon Applied to Observation Step] Observation Step improved from D- (60%) to D (0%). Effect: Neural synchronization stabilized. Ability to predict kinetic initiation (first movement) enhanced by 5%.
A low, satisfying hum resonated in his chest. The world didn't just slow down; it felt clearer.
HOME
Sara stood by the hallway, half-hidden behind the dim light spilling from the living room. When the door opened and her son stepped in, her breath caught. His uniform was torn at the sleeve, and dust marked his deep navy fabric. Blood had dried at the corner of his lip, and faint bruises were already blooming across his jaw.
"Apollo…" she whispered, her voice tight.
He didn't answer at first—just kicked off his shoes, eyes lowered, his breathing even. Calm. Too calm.
Sara stepped forward, her hands trembling. "What happened to you? Don't tell me you fell with those marks."
"Nothing," he said quietly, finally looking up. "I handled it."
His eyes, when they met hers, held no regret, no fear, only an eerie, quiet certainty. It was the same thrilling steadiness she had seen years ago in his father. Sara's heart sank. Her twelve-year-old son was speaking not with an excuse, but a statement of capacity.
Apollo brushed past her, heading upstairs. "I'll clean up."
She turned to call after him, but the words died in her throat. For a long moment, she just stood there, listening to the sound of the bathroom door closing.
Then, silence again.
The water ran upstairs. Sara sat down on the couch, her hands gripping her knees. The house suddenly felt too big, too empty. Her son, who had always sought peace, had come home looking forged in chaos.
She didn't notice the front door open again until the faint sound of footsteps broke through the quiet.
Tae-yun.
He hung his jacket by the door, his eyes, quick and practiced, scanning the living room instantly. "He's back?"
Sara nodded weakly. "Upstairs. Showering."
He didn't ask about the fight details. He simply sighed and walked into the kitchen. Sara followed, her worry finally spilling into words.
"He's hurt, Tae-yun. Bruises all over his face. His knuckles were split. He said he fell, but you know—"
"He didn't fall," Tae-yun interrupted, pulling out a chair. "He fought. And judging by the stillness in his walk, he won."
Sara flinched. "You sound… relieved."
"I am," he admitted softly, meeting her stare. "You've seen what happens when the Yamazaki blood stays dormant too long. It turns inwards. It was starting to worry me."
"Relieved that he's fighting at twelve?" Disbelief twisted her voice.
He looked at her, the ghost of an old, fighting intensity in his eyes. "He's focused. Balanced. The instinct finally woke up. He finally found what he was made for, Sara. That's what the fighting is for us."
She shook her head, tears blurring her vision. "That's what terrifies me."
"I know," he said, his voice lowering to a comforting rumble.
For a while, neither spoke. The only sound was the clock, ticking in the dark.
Sara rubbed her arms, her voice tight with suppressed fear. "What if it consumes him? What if he turns out like... Him?"
"He won't," Tae-yun interrupted gently. "He's different. He has your pragmatism, too. And no matter what happens, we stand behind him."
Sara looked up. Tae-yun's eyes were steady and certain, like steel smoothed by time. He knew this world. He knew its cost.
Upstairs, Apollo stood in front of the mirror, shirt off, a towel hanging from his neck. The bruises looked bad, but they were already fading faster than they should. He flexed his fingers. The skin along his knuckles had begun to knit, pale lines replacing the crimson.
For the first time, he noticed it—the pulse beneath his skin. Not pain.
Power.
"So this is what it feels like," he murmured.
He leaned closer to the mirror. His pupils seemed darker, sharper. A faint, small, dangerous smile touched his lips.
As he lay back on his bed, the ceiling above him blurred slightly. His vision shimmered, and for an instant, he saw faint traces of light outlining his body, like currents of invisible power refining him. His mind replayed every moment of the fight with Tae-min: the crack of fists, the flinch of fear in the bullies' eyes, the thrill that had burned inside him like wildfire.
That feeling. That rush.
He grinned quietly to himself.
The fight had changed something—he could feel it in his body, his breathing, even his heartbeat.
Then the hum returned, clearer this time.
> [Mission Update Detected]
New Task: "Crown the Streets"
Objective: Establish absolute dominance over Cheongdam Middle High within 6 months.
Requirements: Recognition by all major groups. No defeats recorded.
Reward:
• All Attributes +1 Tier
• Title: King of Middle High
Apollo stared at the glowing text, his reflection flickering across the glass.
His bruised lip curved into a faint, tired smile.
"Six months, huh…? Guess we're not slowing down."
The windowpane vibrated softly in the night wind.
Apollo exhaled, then shut off the light. The world went black.
> [Mission Accepted.]
---
The Next Morning
Cheongdam Middle High felt different.
The moment Apollo stepped through the school gates, whispers rippled like wildfire.
"Isn't that him?"
> "That's the kid."
"He took down Tae-min and his whole crew."
"No way. Fifteen guys? He must've had help."
"No… people said he smiled while fighting."
Apollo passed by, calm, almost detached. The subtle thrill in his chest grew with each step—he could feel the fear, the curiosity, the respect blooming like a garden in the tension-heavy air.
> "Did you hear?" one student whispered to another.
"He's… he's not like anyone else. I mean, fifteen guys? All at once?"
Apollo cataloged every conversation, every whispered note of caution. Social dominance wasn't only about fists—it was about perception. And perception was everything.
He caught a glimpse of Tae-min near the smoking corner, bandaged and silent, eyes cast down. Their gazes met for a split second. Tae-min looked away first
something was different. The air was thicker, heavier, charged with murmurs. The usual chatter of students had shifted into whispers. Every eye seemed to follow him.
The hierarchy that had once loomed so heavy now bent subtly around him.
People didn't move out of his way—they flowed, unconsciously giving him space.
Even the teachers glanced twice, unsure whether to question or simply accept the shift in atmosphere.
Apollo could feel it—the silent acknowledgment.
Power had its own gravity.
His footsteps echoed through the hallway.
He could hear his heartbeat, calm and steady, as eyes followed him.
> "Cheongdam's new king…" someone whispered.
"Nah, not yet. But give him time."
Elsewhere, in the second-year wing, the real power was stirring.
The sound of laughter echoed down a cracked corridor—the kind that was cruel and sharp, born of unchallenged dominance.
A heavy thud followed, and two smaller students hit the floor. One clutched his stomach, gasping for air. The other tried to crawl away, only to be grabbed by the collar and lifted halfway up the wall.
"Didn't I tell you," a deep voice drawled, almost lazy, "not to talk back?"
Han Dae-hon smiled faintly, teeth showing under the strip of sunlight cutting across his face. His uniform was unbuttoned, tie hanging loose. His aura was not frantic like Tae-min's, but heavy and solid, like concrete.
He let the boy drop, the student landing hard with a pathetic cough. His crew—five, six bulky figures—chuckled quietly around him.
"What's next?" Han Dae-hon asked, dusting his hands as he sat on a desk.
One of his subordinates spoke up, his voice hushed. "Boss, you heard about the new kid? Apollo Yamazaki—took down Tae-min's whole crew, plus Do-hyun's setup. They say he got away with the ledger."
Han froze mid-motion, then looked up slowly.
"Apollo… Yamazaki?"
The name rolled off his tongue, unfamiliar but interesting. His expression shifted—from bored cruelty to a hungry curiosity.
"Tae-min's crew? All of them?"
"Yeah. He flattened them. Alone."
The room went quiet for a beat. Then Han chuckled—a low, resonant sound that vibrated with genuine amusement.
"Well, damn. About time someone shook this place up."
He leaned back, stretching lazily. His knuckles still bore faint bruises from his earlier "lesson."
"Still," he said, his tone dipping lower, "Tae-min was trash. If this Apollo's the real deal…"
He looked toward the window. Outside, the sunlight hit the courtyard where Apollo was walking, alone.
"…then I guess I'll have to meet him soon."
His friends exchanged uneasy looks.
Han grinned. "Yeah. Let's see if he's worth the noise."
Back to Apollo
That night, Apollo sat on the roof of his apartment, legs dangling off the edge.
The city buzzed below—neon lights bleeding into the dark sky.
He opened the System panel again. The mission text pulsed like a heartbeat.
> [Objective: Dominate Cheongdam Middle High – 6 months remaining.]
He smirked.
"The crown's waiting…"
The wind shifted. Somewhere far away, a new storm was brewing.
Two forces—one rising, one returning.
And Seoul was about to remember both their names.
Author's Note:
This is a my first attempt at writing such an extended and cinematic scene with deep character introspection. If you notice any mistakes—whether in grammar, flow, pacing, or continuity — please feel free to point them out. I'll gladly review and correct them. Your feedback helps me make the story stronger and more immersive. Thank you for reading and supporting Apollo's journey!