The air in the bus crackled with youthful energy, a cacophony of excited chatter about the impending Jeju Island adventure.
My classmates’ voices, a blend of anticipation and sheer joy, filled every corner.
And yes, even I, usually a quiet observer, found myself swept up in the current, contributing my own share to the joyous noise.
Yeon Ha-yeon, my close friend, has a way of drawing me out, her bubbly personality a perfect foil to my more reserved nature.
With her, conversation flows effortlessly, a continuous stream of thoughts and laughter.
While we were deep in discussion, lost in our world of shared excitement, a news report flickering on the bus TV caught my attention.
The headline, stark and attention-grabbing, spoke of significant global shifts: “Recently, there have been noticeable changes overseas. After the difficulty of dungeons in Korea increased, the number of awakeners has exploded in various countries abroad.”
A sudden hush fell over the small group of us who were awakeners – the Four Heavenly Kings, Yeon Ha-yeon, and myself.
This news resonated deeply with us, hitting a chord of both intrigue and concern.
Gates, those mysterious portals to other dimensions, were a familiar phenomenon in Korea, occurring with a disconcerting frequency.
Yeon Hyeong-gwang had mentioned seeing a gate in the US once, but such occurrences were exceedingly rare elsewhere.
In most countries, gates were unheard of, and consequently, awakeners were virtually nonexistent.
But now, a dramatic shift was underway.
Following the escalating difficulty of dungeons in Korea, gates had begun to manifest in various countries, leading to an inevitable surge in the number of awakeners worldwide.
Korea, having been the initial epicenter of this phenomenon, was somewhat prepared, having established protocols and systems to manage the emergence of awakeners.
Other nations, however, despite their attempts at foresight, harbored deep anxieties.
The primary concern, as highlighted by the news report, was the potential for powerful awakeners to emerge from the darkest corners of society – the mafia, the yakuza, and all manner of criminal organizations.
The idea of individuals with extraordinary abilities wielding them for nefarious purposes was a chilling prospect.
Not everyone, the report implied, possessed the moral compass of a Yeon Ha-yeon.
The foreign media, the news concluded, were justifiably worried about the implications of this global awakening.
Despite the unsettling news, the journey to Jeju Island continued.
We landed, then boarded another bus to our accommodation.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I allowed myself to simply be, to chat and play without a single worry clouding my mind.
It was a novel experience, every moment imbued with a sense of significance, a fresh perspective on the simple joy of a school trip.
Everything, truly, was perfect.
Until we arrived at the accommodation, that is.
“It looks like other schools are also here for a school trip today?” a classmate remarked, their voice tinged with surprise.
“Huh? But I see some familiar faces,” another added, a note of recognition in their tone.
A strange unease began to settle over me as I heard my classmates speaking as if they recognized the students disembarking from another bus.
Stepping off our bus and gathering with our class, the reason for that unsettling feeling became glaringly clear.
Adorning the front of the other school bus, the first one I’d noticed, was a large paper placard boldly displaying its affiliation: ‘Iljin Commercial High School Class 2-1’.
I hadn’t paid much attention earlier, everyone being dressed in casual clothes.
But now, amidst the typical array of brightly colored hair—the natural oranges and purples that seemed to dominate the online novel world—
I spotted a familiar shock of bleached blonde.
‘It’s Haemaeum!’
And if Haemaeum was here, then Do Yi-hyun couldn’t be far.
My carefully laid plans for a worry-free trip instantly crumbled.
Just as expected, close to Haemaeum, I caught a glimpse of glittering silver hair, reflecting the sunlight.
I felt Do Yi-hyun’s gaze on me, but I deliberately avoided eye contact, hoping to remain unnoticed.
Just then, Ban Eun-hyeol approached me.
“Our class isn’t over there,” she stated, a slight frown on her face.
I hadn’t even heard the teacher’s instructions to gather.
Hurriedly, I followed Ban Eun-hyeol towards where our classmates were already assembled.
The teacher gave us a brief orientation, outlining the initial plans, and then granted us some free time to unpack our luggage in our respective accommodations.
The accommodation itself was charming, a collection of quaint wooden pensions nestled at regular intervals, with pretty stone paths winding through lush grassy areas.
The female students’ accommodation and the male students’ accommodation were conveniently located not far from each other.
The interior of our pension was simple yet comfortable.
A spacious living room occupied the first floor, and a staircase led up to a single large room designed to accommodate all the female students.
We casually tossed our bags and suitcases in the living room, eager to explore.
Our plan was to briefly look around the pension grounds with the remaining time before dinner.
“Oh, they’re fighting over there!”
Yeon Ha-yeon exclaimed, her voice laced with a strange delight.
As soon as Yeon Ha-yeon and I stepped outside, our eyes were immediately drawn to a chaotic scene that made us both frown.
It was a full-blown brawl, a conflict that had erupted between students from Iljin Commercial High School and Gamsung High School, both groups apparently staying at the same pension.
True to her peculiar enjoyment of watching fights, Yeon Ha-yeon immediately made herself comfortable on the steps of our accommodation, settling in for the spectacle.
“A fight to watch as soon as we arrive, lucky us!” she chirped, a wide grin spreading across her face.
“As expected, the teachers aren’t coming,” I mumbled, almost to myself.
It was a common occurrence in this world; teachers rarely intervened in such skirmishes.
“Huh?”
Yeon Ha-yeon turned to me, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement.
“No, I’ll go get popcorn,” I quickly corrected myself, realizing I had spoken my thoughts aloud.
Yeon Ha-yeon’s sharp gaze snapped me back to reality, and I stood up, feeling a slight flush creep up my neck.
Just then, I saw the Four Heavenly Kings striding towards us from the boys’ accommodation, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern.
Behind them, the scene only grew more chaotic.
More students were getting into arguments, their voices rising in anger, and fists were already flying.
It was a complete mess.
“Did you finish tidying up your luggage?”
Eun Ba-da asked, her voice gentle despite the surrounding pandemonium.
“Let’s go out to the beach!”
Han Ji-bin, ever the impulsive one, surged forward, pointing excitedly to the beach in front of the accommodation.
Following his pointing finger, my gaze swept towards the pristine white sandy beach, where the owner of striking silver hair stood out against the blue expanse of the ocean.
“Oh? Yi-hyun’s there too,” Han Ji-bin exclaimed, about to call out Do Yi-hyun’s name as if to acknowledge him.
I hastily covered his mouth, offering him an awkward smile as he looked at me curiously.
Then, I quickly pointed to the fighting kids.
“No, there’s a good show over there, and I was afraid they’d stop fighting if they heard you call Do Yi-hyun. Right, Ha-yeon?”
I explained, hoping my reasoning sounded plausible.
“You’re right? This is way more fun than a boring school trip,” Yeon Ha-yeon chimed in, her active agreement a welcome diversion.
Honestly, their mental world was often incomprehensible to me.
But thanks to Yeon Ha-yeon’s enthusiastic support, we managed to avert a potentially awkward encounter.
Ban Eun-hyeol’s gaze, however, remained fixed on us, her expression a mix of confusion and mild disapproval, as if we were the strangest creatures she had ever encountered.
I felt a little unfairly treated, but brushed it off.
Soon after, the teacher’s booming voice called for us to gather.
Everyone quickly made their way to the designated meeting point, a sense of anticipation hanging in the air.
However, the news that followed sent a wave of shock through the assembled students, leaving their mouths agape.
“As you know, our first scheduled activity was the Saryeoni Forest Path, right?” the teacher began, her voice unusually subdued.
“But a sudden gate appeared there, so entry is restricted.”
“What?!” a chorus of disbelief erupted from the students.
“Hmm… Since the Onsaemiro Guild from Iljin Commercial High School has already left to close the gate, our class doesn’t need to go close it. It seems like we’ll have free time at the accommodation today! Dismissed!”
Perhaps the teacher simply didn’t want to endure the inevitable barrage of complaints from the disappointed students.
She delivered the shocking news in a rapid-fire manner, then promptly bolted towards the teachers’ accommodation, leaving a bewildered group of students staring blankly at her retreating figure.
“Is it okay to be like this on the first day?” someone muttered incredulously, voicing the collective sentiment.
Everyone actively agreed, nodding their heads in a mixture of surprise and resignation.
As if in response to the unsettling news about the gate, dark clouds now began to gather in the sky, which had been clear and bright all day since our arrival.
The initial joy of the trip was slowly being replaced by a subtle undercurrent of apprehension.
Despite the unexpected turn of events, our classmates quickly rallied.
We collectively decided to gather at the boys’ accommodation to play games, determined to salvage some fun from the impromptu free time.
We set out the snacks and drinks we had brought, a colorful array of chips, candies, and sodas.
Then, someone produced a stack of small pieces of paper.
We scribbled numbers on each one, and on one special piece, we boldly wrote ‘King’.
That’s right.
The game we were about to play was King’s Game.
The rules were delightfully simple, yet held the potential for hilarious chaos.
The friend who drew the ‘King’ paper would issue a command, for example, telling numbers 3 and 4 to stand up and perform a couple dance.
The chosen individuals had no choice but to obey the royal decree.
Just in case Yeon Ha-yeon, Ban Eun-hyeol, or Ji Gang-han, known for their strong personalities, got picked, and the friend who drew the King hesitated to give a sufficiently embarrassing command, we also prepared separate penalty papers.
There were as many penalty papers as there were classmates, each containing a unique and often embarrassing task.
The first friend to draw the ‘King’ paper also drew a penalty paper.
A significant smile spread across their face as they rolled their eyes, clearly relishing their newfound power.
“Number 7, Number 15!” they declared, their voice ringing with authority.
Then, with a flourish, they unfolded the penalty paper and revealed its contents to everyone.
“Grab the first person you see as soon as you go out and sing a song all the way through.”
It seemed like a reasonably manageable penalty, a simple if slightly embarrassing task.
That is, if the friends who got caught weren’t problematic individuals like Ban Eun-hyeol or Ji Gang-han.
Ban Eun-hyeol, upon seeing the paper with ‘7’ on it, crumpled it decisively and slammed it to the floor.
“I can’t sing,” she stated, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Ji Gang-han, equally resolute, quietly tore the paper with ’15’ on it, his expression unreadable.
A momentary silence fell over the room.
Everyone seemed flustered, as if no one had anticipated these two particular individuals being chosen.
The classmates exchanged bewildered glances, a hush settling over the previously boisterous group.
Amidst the awkward silence, the self-proclaimed ‘mood-maker’ of our class suddenly sprang to their feet.
“Go on out, quickly! Friends, I’m looking forward to a sweet serenade!”
Han Ji-bin declared, his voice full of mock enthusiasm.
He then proceeded to grunt with effort as he physically dragged Ban Eun-hyeol and Ji Gang-han by their sides towards the entrance.
In the middle of this forced exodus, Eun Ba-da took over Ji Gang-han, making the process slightly easier.
Han Ji-bin and Eun Ba-da practically threw the two penalized individuals out the door.
Ban Eun-hyeol and Ji Gang-han, who hadn’t even had time to put on their shoes, stood rigidly outside the pension, looking utterly mortified.
Then, prompted by Han Ji-bin’s booming voice from inside, echoing through the large window overlooking the outside, they slowly descended the stairs, their shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Someone’s coming! Get ready, fire!”
Han Ji-bin yelled, his voice muffled by the glass, but still perfectly audible.
“If that bastard comes back, I won’t let him off,” Ban Eun-hyeol muttered darkly, glaring at the ground.
“Damn it,” Ji Gang-han grumbled, a low growl escaping his lips.
Each muttering a word of protest, the two charged fiercely towards the approaching person, their expressions a mixture of anger and resignation.
“Hey… this is a bit scary, isn’t it? Is that person going to run away?” someone whispered from inside, a hint of unease in their voice.
“Oh, they’re not running! I can’t see their expression well because of their hat. Is it someone from our school?” another classmate inquired, craning their neck for a better look.
“Wait a minute. I remember seeing that outfit just a moment ago…” a classmate who had been tilting their head and frowning slowly watched their face fill with horror as they finally recognized the approaching figure.
“Why? What is it…?” someone carefully asked, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere.
The friend who had recognized the passerby completely covered their mouth with both hands, their eyes wide with disbelief and trepidation.
“That’s Kang Ye-dam!” they finally choked out, their voice barely a whisper.
“Huh…?” a collective gasp rippled through the room.
“Oh, what’s with the atmosphere?”
Kang Ye-dam.
The name hung heavy in the air.
He was one of the three major VIPs of Iljin Commercial High School, infamous as the ‘Mad Dog’ there.
He was notoriously known for being the most prickly, violent, and having the absolute worst temper among their students.
Many students secretly referred to him as the ‘Crazy Dog’ behind his back, a testament to his volatile nature.
Ban Eun-hyeol and Ji Gang-han, now fully committed to their task, stood directly in front of Kang Ye-dam, blocking his path.
Kang Ye-dam’s expression visibly soured as he slightly lifted his head, his gaze narrowing as he confirmed the two individuals obstructing him.
Soon after, a sweet serenade began, entirely without any musical accompaniment.
It was a sight truly too painful to watch, yet I absolutely could not bring myself to close my eyes.
When else, I reasoned, would I ever get to witness such a precious and utterly humiliating spectacle?
My classmates seemed to be thinking the exact same thing.
Their eyes were wide open, transfixed on the scene unfolding outside, their lips pulled inward in an attempt to suppress their uncontrollable laughter.
Han Ji-bin, unable to contain himself, was openly cackling with unbridled amusement, while Eun Ba-da, though covering her mouth, laughed aloud, her shoulders shaking with mirth.
Just then, Kang Ye-dam, who had been looking at Ban Eun-hyeol and Ji Gang-han with an expression that clearly said, “What in the world are these guys doing?”, finally opened his mouth.
The stage was set for a dramatic confrontation, the tension palpable in the air.