The evening after school had felt wrong from the very first step. The sun had dipped behind the city skyline, leaving the streets cold and gray, but the unease coiling in Jeong's chest was colder still. Every step he took seemed heavier than the last. His backpack wasn't just carrying books anymore—it felt as though it bore the weight of all his failures, all the wasted hours, all the helplessness he carried silently every day.
By the time he turned into the narrow alley, a sinking dread had settled in his stomach. Something was off. Wrong. Dangerous.
And then he saw them.
Five boys blocked the dimly lit path ahead, shadows flickering with the occasional pulse of the failing streetlight. And at the center of them all, illuminated just enough to make his stomach drop, was a face he knew far too well.
Daejin Kang.
The name alone had ruined more days than he could count. The same cruel smile, red-rimmed eyes, reeking of alcohol and malice.
"Well, look at that," Daejin drawled, swaying slightly as he laughed. "The fast one is back."
Jeong said nothing. His throat felt dry. His fists clenched without him realizing it.
"Both his father and he are good at running," Daejin sneered, eyes gleaming with a sick kind of amusement. "And his mom… single, right? Maybe she needs some company while his father runs away."
Jeong felt something inside him snap. Rage bubbled up, hot and dangerous, making his chest pound jeong wishper
"Why...why I am getting mad even when they are not my real family..is it because of this body"
Daejin continued, oblivious—or maybe enjoying the torment. "What did I expect? His girlfriend dumped him because of his dogshit mouth. Pathetic."
The words struck like blows, but instead of cowering, Jeong's body relaxed. Focus sharpened. The world slowed, every sound amplified—the distant hum of a streetlamp, the rustle of trash in the alley, the drunken laughter of the bullies.
The first boy lunged forward.
Jeong twisted sharply, elbow swinging sideways—
THUD.
It connected perfectly with the boy's ribs. He crumpled instantly. For a heartbeat, the world went silent.
Then—
BOOM.
Pain exploded at the back of Jeong's head. A baseball bat. His vision tilted, the alley spinning around him. Before he could react, two fists smashed into his face. Blood spurted from his nose, warm and metallic, mixing with the split lip that throbbed with every heartbeat.
"So fast, huh?"
Daejin's sneer cut into him like ice. His boot slammed against Jeong's leg—twice.
Jeong tried to rise. His knees betrayed him. The boys' laughter rang cruel and unyielding.
"Let's finish this here," one muttered, pulling a belt from his pants.
Then—a calm, sharp voice cut through the chaos:
"Enough."
A figure stepped from the shadows, a cap pulled low, movements too precise, too deliberate. One punch, and Daejin flew backward like a ragdoll. The other boys froze, unsure whether to flee or fight.
The cap-wearing boy struck again, then vanished into the darkness as though swallowed by it.
A distant wail of police sirens sliced through the alley. "Cops!" someone yelled. Chaos erupted. Amidst it all, the stranger disappeared.
Jeong lay on the cold asphalt, broken, bleeding, and hollow.
Long after midnight, Jeong finally stumbled home. Every step felt heavier than the last, and when he reached his door, he collapsed beside his bed without bothering to remove his shoes. The tears came, unbidden—not from the pain, but from despair.
"Nothing changes… I'm still the same…"
Blood dripped from his split lip, sliding down his fingers onto a small wooden box beside the bed. It was a box his father had given him, locked for years. Tonight, for reasons he didn't understand, it clicked open.
Inside lay a crystal—black as a void, reflecting nothing, absorbing all light. A suffocating presence radiated from it, pressing against his chest, stealing his breath. Darkness enveloped him, swallowing his vision.
When he opened his eyes, a black cat sat beside his bed, its eyes calm, unblinking. The same cat he had met days ago.
"You're black too?" Jeong whispered, weakly.
The cat's fur shifted instantly, turning white and brown. "Better?"
Jeong let out a trembling, broken laugh before his tears returned, cascading down his face.
After long moments, the cat finally spoke.
"Listen carefully. You need to understand the world you live in."
Jeong swallowed hard, his chest tight. The cat continued, voice deliberate.
"There are six Element Ranks:
Common
Rare
Epic
Legendary
Mythical
Divine
"You already know what Divine means," the cat said. "Royal blood. Absolute rulers."
Jeong remained silent, trying to steady his racing heart.
"There are elements," the cat continued, "and a few lucky ones are chosen by the elements themselves… but in the ancient era, three forbidden elements existed:
Primordial Darkness, Divine Flame, Celestial Ice."
Jeong's breath hitched.
The cat eyed the empty wooden box. "What entered you… is a fragment of Primordial Darkness."
"Forbidden…?" Jeong's voice barely rose above a whisper.
"Yes. A small percentage. But even one fragment is overwhelming."
Jeong trembled, a strange mix of fear and something darker—something awakening.
"And only royals can wield such power…"
"Forbidden power has levels," the cat said calmly. "You didn't inherit it. You were chosen."
The cat rummaged through Jeong's bag, producing a filthy, foul-smelling sock. It recoiled in disgust.
For the first time that night, Jeong managed a faint smile.
The cat's tone shifted again, sharp and deliberate.
"Kang Family… Haen Family… Veyra Clan… Royal Line. They are the powerhouses of this continent."
Jeong remembered the stranger in the alley. "He had power too… didn't he?"
"Legendary tier. Puppet-type control," the cat confirmed.
A distant, almost imperceptible sound echoed through the room. Jeong's head whipped toward the noise. Nothing. Only the cat.
"That presence…" he whispered.
"Tavros," the cat replied. "This was only the beginning."
Jeong clenched his fists, bloodied but unbowed. Broken, yet something ancient and formidable had awoken inside him.
Something that would not let him remain a victim