Jun-Hyuk trudged up the stairwell of his school, each step feeling heavier than the last. A sharp migraine pulsed in his temples, the throbbing relentlessly as if his brain was trying to escape his skull. His thoughts spiraled back to the events of the last twenty-four hours, a twisted haze that seemed too unreal to comprehend. It had to have been a dream, right? After all, he had woken up in his bed just like usual. But the question gnawed at him: how had he gotten home? Maybe he had a concoction from tripping yesterday. And the sword lurking at the side of his bed… well he had no reasonable explanation for that one.

With a long, weary sigh, Jun-Hyuk pulled open the door at the top of the stairwell, hoping to slip by unnoticed and make it to class. He knew it was a futile wish—he was bound to run into Choi-Seok’s crew. But to his dismay, who he found on the other side was far worse.

“Ji-Min!” Jun-Hyuk blurted, his voice cracking in shock. Her face, framed by the doorway, was both familiar and all too close for comfort.

Of course, this was how his day was starting—embarrassment and surprise colliding in the most awkward way possible. He tried to duck past her, but her grip on his sleeve stopped him dead in his tracks.

Ji-Min’s face lit up in a bright, disarming smile. “Ah, Jun! You’re alright! After you blacked out, me and your brother had to drag you home. Your parents were really grateful, but I couldn’t stop worrying about you all night.”

Jun-Hyuk’s entire body went cold. She brought me home? He wanted to sink into the floor, to vanish completely. And worse—she spoke to my parents? No wonder they’d been acting strange this morning, casting him those knowing glances.

He tried to muster up a response, his voice betraying him. “But… how do you even know where I live?”

Ji-Min’s laughter bubbled up, sweet and carefree. “We’ve been neighbors since elementary school, silly.”

Jun-Hyuk slapped himself mentally. How could I forget? Of course, Ji-Min had been his neighbor for years. He could hardly remember a time when she wasn’t around. It made sense now, but all he could think about was how his face must be bright red. His crush on her started back in elementary school, and somehow, it had never quite gone away. Now, standing here like an idiot, he couldn’t take it.

Mumbling a hasty thanks, he turned and bolted toward the classroom. He didn’t even want to think about what he had just walked into. Thankfully, Ji-Min wasn’t in his class. He slumped into his seat, wishing for the ground to swallow him whole, and tried to shrink into the desk, hoping to disappear from existence.

But just as he thought he might be safe, a shadow loomed over him. His breath caught, and he looked up to find Choi-Seok glaring down at him, his face twisted in an arrogant sneer.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten my 30,000 won,” Choi-Seok sneered, his voice dripping with malice.

Jun-Hyuk had far too much on his mind to deal with Choi-Seok right now, but the last thing he wanted was to escalate a confrontation. “Of course not,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Choi-Seok’s hand clamped down on his shoulders, the pressure biting into his skin as if it were a warning. He squeezed harder, causing Jun-Hyuk to gasp in pain. “You better not have,” Choi-Seok hissed, his voice low and threatening. “And don’t forget my bread at lunch.”

Jun-Hyuk barely managed to grunt in response, the pain from Choi-Seok’s grip radiating through his body, gnawing at his nerves. But the pain was becoming too much. His frustration began to boil over—he didn’t know where it came from, but it felt like something inside him snapped. Without thinking, his hand shot out, grabbing Choi-Seok’s wrist. The surge of anger coursed through him as if it were electric.

In an instant, his body reacted before his mind could catch up. He yanked Choi-Seok’s hand off him, twisting it around until Choi-Seok was suddenly airborne, flying backward into the desks with a sickening thud. The sound of impact was followed by a guttural scream that made the entire room freeze.

The class went silent, eyes wide with disbelief as Choi-Seok writhed on the floor, clutching his back. Jun-Hyuk stood there, frozen, his heart hammering in his chest, as if his own body had betrayed him. He looked down at his trembling hands, then back at Choi-Seok, whose face contorted in pain and shock.

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What the hell was that?

Was he always this strong? The question echoed in his mind, but there was no time to process it. The silence around him was suffocating, and he could feel the weight of every gaze on him, waiting for him to react. In true Webtoon fashion, here’s a vivid, fast-paced description of the scene with added emotional depth and internal conflict:

The memory hit him like a slap—that moth-wolf—its body crumpling under his sword, the smooth, effortless way his blade sliced through its monstrous form. That wasn't a dream, was it? His mind raced, every nerve on fire as the scene in front of him began to blur. Was he really capable of this?

Before Jun-Hyuk could process it, the sound of heavy footsteps brought him back to reality. Choi-Seok’s four friends stormed at him, their faces twisted with rage, lips curling around angry obscenities.

"You're gonna regret this, Jun-Hyuk!" one of them barked, his voice grating against Jun-Hyuk’s senses.

The world seemed to slow down as the first punch came flying at him. Jun-Hyuk’s instincts kicked in. He ducked, his body moving almost on its own, too fast for him to follow.

A second later, his hand shot out, grabbing the attacker’s arm mid-swing. He felt the muscles beneath his fingers, the bones creaking, the adrenaline pumping in his veins. His grip tightened, and with a swift twist, the guy was hurled backward, crashing into the wall with a sickening thud.

What is happening?

He barely had time to process his own actions before another one lunged at him, fists raised.

Without thinking, Jun-Hyuk lashed out, his leg sweeping low. It connected with his opponent’s knees, sending him crashing to the floor. He could almost hear the bones snap in the chaos of movement. The third guy tried to grab him from behind, but Jun-Hyuk spun, slamming his elbow into his attacker’s gut. The guy gasped for air, stumbling back as Jun-Hyuk moved like a blur, his body almost too quick to follow.

In the midst of the storm, his thoughts scattered. Why am I doing this? His heart pounded in his chest, the rapid beat drowning out the shouts and the chaos around him. His body was moving on its own, a relentless force that seemed to take over every time his attackers came near. His hands, once unsteady and unsure, were now precise and powerful.

The final guy tried to circle him, but Jun-Hyuk's reflexes were faster. His fist shot out, striking the man’s jaw with a crack that echoed through the room. The guy crumpled, unconscious before he hit the ground.

He looked down at the groaning students sprawled around him, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. A sudden sound of clapping echoed from the back of the room. Jeong Min-Ho, the class's top fighter, lounged casually in his chair, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Not bad, Seo Jun-Hyuk. But if you could fight like that, you should have done so sooner."

Jun-Hyuk could only manage a strained nod, still gasping for air. All he wanted was to escape. Just as the tension seemed to thicken in the room, the teacher walked in. Seizing the moment, Jun-Hyuk darted for the door, not giving the teacher a chance to take in the scene. His legs moved on their own, carrying him down the hallway, away from the chaos.

***

That night, Jun-Hyuk sat on his bed, his gaze locked on the glistening blade of Dawnfire. The sword, resting against his sheets, seemed to pulse with an energy that felt almost alive. His hands hovered over it as if drawn to its power, but his mind was clouded with doubt and confusion.

"Can I really live in two worlds?" he murmured, rubbing his temples in an attempt to soothe the ache that had been building there all day. Every inch of his body screamed that it couldn't be real, that the fight, the monster, the powers—none of it made sense. How could a normal guy like him suddenly have the strength to defeat Choi-Seok's gang without even breaking a sweat? The very idea seemed impossible. Had the other world somehow made him stronger? The uncertainty gnawed at him, but the one truth he couldn't deny was that he had to find answers—answers only sleep could provide.

Clutching Dawnfire, he lay back on his bed, its weight oddly comforting in his hand. As his eyes fluttered shut, the quiet of his room felt distant, as though he were already drifting between two worlds. The pull of sleep was irresistible, and soon he surrendered to it, the sword still gripped tightly in his fingers.

The moment his eyes opened again, the world around him had changed. The familiar blue walls of his bedroom were gone, replaced by the glistening red sky of a post-apocalyptic Beijing and the gold adorned manor. The familiar scent of cherry blossoms and tangerines hung in the air, and Jun-Hyuk’s heart skipped a beat as he realized where he was.

Above him, Lian Hua’s face appeared, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Welcome back Feng Lei.”