Kim and Seo-joon ventured into the heart of the campus, where the grandeur became increasingly overwhelming. The towering buildings were adorned with architectural intricacies, and every pathway seemed to lead to yet another facility designed for indulgence.
Their first stop was the Helix Mall, a shopping complex exclusively for students. The entrance alone was stunning—a glass façade with a cascading waterfall on either side. Inside, the air was cool and fragrant, filled with the subtle hum of conversation and the occasional click of designer heels on marble floors.
The mall was a paradise for the elite. High-end boutiques showcased luxury watches, tailored suits, and even limited-edition sneakers. Cafés offered gourmet menus, and there was even a jewelry store with glittering displays.
Kim hesitated before swiping his card at one of the stores, curious to see if he could enter. Predictably, a notification popped up: Restricted to VIP students.
“Figures,” Seo-joon muttered, watching a group of well-dressed students saunter past them, each carrying sleek shopping bags.
They moved on, stepping into a nearby movie theater that boasted private screening rooms. A staff member politely informed them that their cards granted access to the standard theater, not the luxurious private suites. Kim peeked inside one of the private rooms before the door closed—a plush interior with recliners and personal service.
“Feels like we’re sightseeing in a world that’s not ours,” Seo-joon remarked.
“It’s theirs for now,” Kim replied quietly, his fists clenching.
Stolen story; please report.
Their next destination was the athletic complex. Here, the contrast was even more blatant. While the outdoor fields and courts were accessible, the indoor training centers, featuring cutting-edge equipment and private trainers, were off-limits to scholarship students.
Kim watched as a wealthy student emerged from a restricted training area, laughing with his friends. They wore branded athletic gear and carried personalized duffle bags. One of them tossed a towel to an attendant without so much as a thank-you.
“It’s like they’re on a different planet,” Seo-joon said.
Kim nodded, the sense of exclusion simmering beneath his calm exterior. This isn’t just a playground—it’s a kingdom, he thought.
The exploration ended at the rooftop garden, an area technically open to all students. The garden was breathtaking, with manicured hedges, colorful flower beds, and a view of the entire campus. Yet even here, the division was evident. The central seating area, with its ornate fountains and luxurious furniture, was roped off for exclusive use.
Kim and Seo-joon sat on a bench along the outer edge, gazing at the sunset.
“It’s beautiful, but it doesn’t feel like it’s ours,” Seo-joon said, his voice tinged with frustration.
“It’s not,” Kim replied, his voice resolute. “But that doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way.”
They watched as a group of elite students gathered in the restricted area, laughing and sipping on sparkling drinks served by staff. The stark contrast between their carefree joy and Kim’s quiet determination was palpable.
“We’re not just scholarship students,” Kim said, breaking the silence. “We’re challengers in a rigged game. But every system has cracks, and we’ll find them.”
Seo-joon looked at him, a hint of admiration in his eyes. “You really believe that?”
“I have to,” Kim replied. “Because if I don’t, they win.”
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the campus, Kim felt a renewed sense of purpose. The elite might have their playground, but he was determined to turn it into his battlefield.