Aswa clamped her neck around Rossa in a Triangle Choke.
Her legs locked tightly around Rossa's head and arm—like a perfectly snaring mousetrap. Her body tilted, applying maximum pressure. Rossa gasped for air.
At first, she tried to stay calm.
"Khh—!"
But her face began to redden, then turn purple.
Her hands trembled, breathing faltered.
Her neck felt strangled from both sides—as if a pair of snakes were slowly squeezing.
She tried to raise her hand— a desperate attempt to fight the pressure.
"L-let go…"
Rossa's voice was hoarse.
But Aswa just grinned, tightening the chokehold even more.
"Hehe… No way." she answered casually, as if this were just a game.
BAM!!
A hard kick struck the side of Aswa's head.
Two high school students from Srengseng attacked from the side.
Aswa managed to block it with her hands, but her stance wavered. The hold loosened.
Rossa immediately got up.
With a quick move—
CRACK!!
A kick hit Aswa's chest.
Her body was thrown backward, hitting the air and falling right into the small garden in the corner of the field—Rossa's favorite spot, full of neat flowers and plants.
"W-wait!!"
Rossa panicked, running closer.
But it was too late.
Aswa landed, one hand holding herself up so as not to crush the plants.
Her body trembled, but her face remained calm.
Rossa's plants… were safe.
Rossa fell silent.
Her eyes stared with relief. "Are you okay?" she whispered to the flowers.
Aswa just smirked. "I'm fine."
"Not you. Sorry." replied Rossa, returning to her usual demeanor.
Meanwhile, the two Srengseng students who had attacked Aswa started retreating quietly, hoping not to be noticed.
But their steps were swept away by Aswa's half-lazy glare.
Rossa then stood before Aswa.
"Seems like… I'm not a trustworthy person either," she said softly.
Aswa turned. "Huh? You said I was the untrustworthy one earlier!"
Rossa ignored him, then walked toward the garden. She took the watering can and began watering the flowers—as if nothing had happened.
The wind blew gently.
Birds sang.
Rossa blended with the garden—peaceful, undisturbed by the outside world. In Aswa's eyes, she looked like a forest guardian spirit emerging in a moment of peace.
Aswa just stared, feeling strange.
Then he turned and walked back to the crowd on the field.
The students were already taking stances.
They were ready… to gang up on him.
[AT ARCA'S SIDE]
At the back of the school, Arca stood staring at the three-story building that looked... different.
No graffiti. No kids smoking in the corner.
No smell of cigarettes or noisy voices.
This building… was too quiet.
Arca stepped inside.
His footsteps echoed through the clean corridor.
There was no shadow of chaos like the front building.
Instead, it felt like a real school—not a den of delinquents.
The students inside the classrooms looked serious.
Boys and girls studying. Laughing. Playing. The teachers were there, teaching as usual.
But… something was strange.
Arca could feel it.
The gazes. The aura. The atmosphere.
When he turned his back to them, the vibe seemed to change—as if everyone was watching him.
But when he looked back, everything looked normal again.
Silent.
"Typical psychological illusion…" Arca muttered. But he didn't stop.
He climbed the stairs to the second floor.
CLACK. CLACK. CLACK.
Suddenly, a trap appeared on the stairs.
A metal plate dropped from above. The floor wobbled.
For ordinary people, this was dangerous.
For Arca, just a minor disturbance.
He kept going.
His feet never stopped, his body relaxed. His eyes stayed ahead.
Second floor.
Different from below.
Everything felt… warm.
Kids chatting, joking with one another. A strong sense of family atmosphere.
Suddenly—
BUMP!!
Someone bumped into him.
The person was tall. Even taller than Arca.
Muscular body. Neatly styled black hair. Sharp but gentle eyes.
"Sorry. Are you okay?"
The man's voice was calm—as if impossible to make angry.
Arca nodded. "I'm fine."
Behind the man, a group of students followed orderly.
No one spoke, but their aura… was strong. Not from violence—but from natural respect.
Arca continued walking.
However, the voice called him again.
"Wait a moment."
Arca turned around.
The man looked at him, this time deeper.
"Who are you?"
"Arca," he answered casually.
"You're not a student here, are you?"
Arca shook his head. "I'm here for one thing. To challenge the King of this school."
The group behind the man immediately sharpened their gaze.
Some clenched their fists. Pressure instantly rose.
But the man raised his hand, calming them.
"If that's the case… I'm sorry."
He looked into Arca's eyes with a calm, almost empty expression.
"You can't."
They stared at each other.
The air between them grew heavy.
[ TO BE CONTINUED ]