High School Return | Of A Gangster

A smartphone clattered to the floor. The screen was cracked, showing a news alert: Busan Underworld Figure Kim Dae-seong Found Dead.

Min-ho’s eyes landed on Yoon-jae. He sensed a rival. “I heard you used to be a loser. Now you act like a king. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

He looked at the cherry blossoms falling around them. They looked exactly like the poster in the alley where he died. But the air didn’t smell of rain and betrayal. It smelled of spring and possibility. high school return of a gangster

“I said,” Dae-seong stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper only Seok could hear, “that your father’s secretary, the one with the mole on her neck, she’s been skimming from the Incheon site for three years. I’d worry about that, not my shoelaces.”

He met her in the school library—a quiet, fierce girl named Han So-ri. She was the daughter of a labor union leader who had been crushed by the same construction company that Seok’s family ran. She was poor, proud, and brilliant. She was also the only person who wasn’t afraid of the new Yoon-jae. A smartphone clattered to the floor

“Before this body,” Dae-seong continued, “I was the man who made Busan kneel. I know your real name is Park Min-ho. I know you served six years for assault with a deadly weapon. I know your daughter goes to Seoul Arts High School and leaves at 8:15 every night.”

But the underworld does not forget.

Dae-seong felt the old fire rise in his chest. The Crow’s bloodlust. He smiled. “You think because you have a bat, you know violence?” he said, cracking his knuckles. “I’ve forgotten more ways to break a man than you’ll ever learn.”

On graduation day, Yoon-jae stood in the courtyard, wearing a cap and gown. So-ri stood beside him, her arm in a sling, but her smile brighter than the sun. She had fully recovered, and the scar on her shoulder was already fading. He sensed a rival

A strange, hollow laugh escaped Yoon-jae’s lips. The Crow had been killed. But the Crow had also landed on a new, very uncomfortable perch.

He woke to the smell of cheap disinfectant, stale ramen, and teenage sweat. He was sitting at a plastic desk, the surface carved with half-hearted hearts and the words "Mr. Park sucks." A boy in a crumpled uniform was shaking him. "Yoon-jae! Dude! Wake up, Mr. Kang is gonna murder you!"