Kim and Seo-joon continued their tour of the campus, their footsteps echoing in the vast hallways of the university. The grandeur of the place was impossible to ignore—gleaming marble floors, high ceilings, and walls adorned with expensive artwork. But for Kim, the beauty of the buildings felt like a façade, masking the harsh reality that lay beneath.

As they walked, Kim couldn't help but notice the stark contrasts that seemed to be everywhere. It wasn’t just the cafeteria with its separate lines for scholarship students and wealthy students; it was in the very design of the campus itself. The wealthy students had their own section in every facility—the libraries, the lounges, and even the study halls. Kim could see that they occupied the best spots, their presence almost suffocating in its arrogance.

The deeper they ventured into the university, the more the divisions became clear. It wasn’t just the infrastructure that set the rich students apart—it was the way they carried themselves. Groups of them strolled past, laughing and chatting as if they owned the place, their designer clothes and accessories a symbol of the wealth that separated them from everyone else.

Kim couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of alienation. The world of the rich students felt so distant, so foreign. It was as if they existed in a bubble, insulated from the struggles of people like him. Even the workers—the staff who ran the cafeterias, cleaned the classrooms, and maintained the campus—were divided into two groups: those who served the wealthy students with an eager obedience, and those who were left to fend for themselves, working multiple jobs just to scrape by.

“What’s going on here is... brutal,” Kim murmured, watching as a group of rich students passed by, flanked by attendants who seemed to hang on their every word.

Seo-joon, noticing his discomfort, nudged him gently. “It’s the same everywhere, Kim. But we’re not alone in this. You’ve got me, and I’ve got your back.”

Kim glanced at his friend, grateful for his words, but the divide felt too wide to bridge with mere friendship. The weight of his scholarship and the limitations it imposed on him were becoming painfully clear. Everywhere he looked, there was a reminder of his place—at the bottom of a system that valued wealth above all else.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

They reached a nearby courtyard where a few students were lounging on expensive furniture, sipping drinks and enjoying their lunch. The students looked as if they had no cares in the world, their carefree conversations further accentuating the gulf between them and the rest of the campus.

Seo-joon seemed to sense the frustration simmering in Kim. “Don’t let them get to you. We’ve got to stay focused on what brought us here. We’re here to study, to make something of ourselves.”

Kim nodded, though it was clear that the path forward wouldn’t be easy. The more he observed, the more he realized that success at this university wasn’t just about grades—it was about knowing the right people, having the right connections, and above all, having the right amount of money to make things happen.

As they passed by a large glass window overlooking the athletic fields, Kim’s eyes caught sight of the wealthier students lounging in the VIP section of the stadium, enjoying a catered lunch while the rest of the students were relegated to the bleachers.

“It’s a system designed to keep people like us in our place,” Kim said bitterly. “No matter how hard we work, they’ll always have the advantage.”

Seo-joon shook his head. “Maybe. But we can’t afford to think that way. We’ve got to make our own opportunities. This place is what we make of it.”

Kim didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he watched as the rich students laughed, their voices full of entitlement, while the scholarship students shuffled along, heads down, trying not to draw attention to themselves. It was a world of silent battles, of quiet struggles, and Kim wasn’t sure how long he could keep fighting without losing himself in the process.

But one thing was clear—he couldn’t let this divide define him. If he was going to survive here, he would need more than just Seo-joon’s friendship. He would need to find a way to rise above the system, to carve out a place for himself where he could fight back against the forces that sought to hold him down.

For the first time, Kim realized that this wasn’t just a university—it was a battleground. And he had to be ready for whatever came next.