People Can't Be Fixed (3)

One of the greatest advantages of school was that students with all kinds of personalities would gather, play jokes on each other, and chatter.

This was because for individuals, expressing their own uniqueness and being accepted for it was an unparalleled happiness.

Since everyone's individuality was different, no one could predict what kind of chemical reactions would occur.

Especially in Hand, where many students with quirky personalities congregated, these things happened even more intensely.

Things were so out of hand that even faculty couldn't control it, resulting in the absurd rule that personal problems must be resolved by the students themselves, not by the school.

Yet, even in Hand, there were behaviors that were absolutely not tolerated.

There were things that students must never do, and breaking these rules meant being sent to the Recovery Center.

And today, a student was returning after serving his time there.

"..."

"..."

Middle School 2, usually bright and bustling, felt icy cold due to the presence of that student.

"How many months has it been, anyway?"

All eyes of the students, who normally went to school together, focused on Michael as he walked through the front gate.

Michael had consistently bullied other students, so it was only natural that many looked at him with disfavor.

Seriously, from top to bottom, there wasn't a single person here who wasn't a powerless fool.

He wanted to grab and beat up someone on the spot as an example, but Michael forcibly fixed his expression to prove that he was reformed.

"Nice to see you all."

Michael put on a cheeky smile and greeted the students.

Being a third-year senior, the students quietly responded to his greeting.

The welcome was rather tepid, but the students tried to keep things peaceful and greeted him anyway.

"This is more disappointing than I thought. This senior spent all his time in the center, all alone, ever since finals ended. I hoped for a warmer welcome."

"... Yeah..."

Life in the Recovery Center was far from free.

The daily routine involved etiquette education from childcare teachers or volunteering for the local elderly.

For someone as rough as Michael, it was hard to bear.

The hardest part was the restriction on movement.

While serving his time, he couldn't approach the school, and wasn't allowed to go outside the Recovery Center's boundaries.

He couldn't even go where he wanted or secretly smoke a cigarette—the worst possible situation.

'Compared to that, this place really is paradise.'

All the guys who'd been dragged to the Center like him were impossible to communicate with.

They were either extremely ill-tempered or so messed up he'd often feel the urge to throw a punch.

Sitting at his assigned desk, Michael recalled that hellish Center life, and curses slipped out at the stress he'd accumulated there.

And that wasn't all.

'Sh*t, if only I hadn't lost that wallet!'

It had been the weekend, happily hanging out with his girlfriend Emily.

He barely managed to get a permit to go out, finally meeting up with Emily and taking a walk around town.

Just being able to escape the outside world after a long time made him happy, no matter who he ran into.

Even if it were Sung Chohyang, his nemesis throughout school. But after realizing he'd lost his wallet, happiness turned to despair.

'First, I need to find that freshman bastard.'

As lunchtime came around, Michael stood in line at the cafeteria, deep in thought.

He must've stolen Sung Chohyang's wallet and that freshman's wallet outside the arcade.

But in turn, all of his own wallets had disappeared, and realizing this late, he'd almost had to dine and dash.

In the end, Michael had to work at that steakhouse every weekend.

If he didn't, word would reach the school, then his family, and all hell would break loose.

To make it worse, he'd gotten in trouble right after getting out of the Center.

If people found out, he'd not only be expelled but probably kicked out of his house too.

'That freshman bastard—I'll definitely kill him!'

Michael cursed internally, his anger flaring. He was sure it was that freshman who'd stolen all his wallets.

Just thinking about the note in the fake wallet—'Haha, it's fake~'—stressed him out even more.

He wanted to find the guy but couldn't recall any distinguishing features. He didn't even know the guy's name, so he couldn't look him up.

"F*cking hell..."

Nothing was going his way, and he was thoroughly annoyed.

Unable to control his primal nature any longer, Michael started acting as he pleased.

"Hey, buddy. Mind letting me in front?"

"... Huh?"

"Please man, I'm not feeling well."

Michael suddenly stepped out of line and approached a mild-looking student near the front, hiding his true intentions behind a cheeky grin.

"Are you trying to cut in line?"

"What's the problem? You could let me in front, right?"

"No way. Second place will have your head if you do."

"What... Second place?"

Second place must've been the annoying Sung Chohyang.

Had he gained a sudden sense of justice while Michael was away? Maybe, seeing as he'd always try to block Michael.

He thought it was reasonable.

"What's so special about second place..."

"Don't do it. You'll regret it."

"What are you saying? I'll be seriously disappointed if you don't let me pass. So, just..."

At that moment, murmurs spread among the students, causing Michael to trail off.

Since he'd been to the center, school public opinion had definitely turned against him.

He'd thought they'd let him cut in out of fear, but their firm stance took him by surprise.

"What the...?"

Flabbergasted, Michael had to go back and line up from the start. After all that, he finally got his tray and found a seat.

At least no one was mixing weird stuff into their food like before, so he had less reason to lose his appetite and stress was somewhat reduced.

But feeling like he didn't have enough to eat, his eyes wandered to the tray of the student sitting next to him.

"Hey, give me a bite of that pizza bread."

"... Huh?"

"Why are you staring like that? Is a single bite such a big deal?"

It was natural for anyone to make an awkward face when asked for 'just one bite'.

But Michael, never having been refused, simply dismissed the student as stingy.

"Come on, just one bite. You have a conscience, don't you?"

Michael forced another cheeky smile, coaxing him like a child. It was almost as if a kindergarten teacher were saying, 'Be generous and share.'

Only, the recipient was ill-chosen. Unsurprisingly, the student responded with a scowl.

"Conscience? What conscience."

"What?"

"If I give you a bite, will more food magically appear on my tray?"

"Hey! Are you going to act all stingy too? What a petty guy, seriously."

Anyone who refused a single bite was, according to Michael, a bad person who turned their back on those in need.

That was a favorite trick of those who always begged "just one bite"—to accuse the other of lacking morals.

"Shut up."

"... What?"

But there's something he should know: refusing someone in need isn't necessarily a sin.

Even if there's a hint of elitism, it's not like you're kicking over someone's collection plate or mocking them for being poor.

Not sharing a bite is about the same, after all.

"At least keep your own conscience in check, will you?"

"Hey... Hey!"

After that student, all the others at the table picked up their trays and left, too.

For some reason, unlike before, nobody gave in—they answered back. Michael was at a loss.

"What's up with these guys?"

Of course, he'd mark those who rejected him and get back at them with subtle bullying later on. Just like before.

"Oh, and one bit of advice."

One of the departing students turned around and spoke.

"There's no place in this school for guys like you anymore. Second place never tolerates this kind of behavior."

"You're only sticking up to me now because that Sung Chohyang's got your back, huh?"

The mention of Sung Chohyang suddenly made the students laugh. Even the kids around, eating, snorted into their food.

"Do you still think the second place is Sung Chohyang?"

"What are you talking about?"

Michael had thought something was off from the start.

There shouldn't be any power difference between him and Chohyang, so what did these kids have backing them up?

He felt a strange hunch and pulled up the school's ranking page on his phone.

To his surprise, a name he'd never seen before was listed as number two instead of Sung Chohyang.

"Ma Seongjin...?"

He tapped to check the profile. On seeing the photo, Michael was both shocked and thrilled.

It was the freshman from the arcade that day.

"Finally found you."

Now he didn't have to search through the entire freshman class.

****

A cool breeze blew across the school rooftop. Most people would imagine eating lunchboxes up here, but with a cafeteria in the school, the roof had no real purpose.

Besides, students typically hung out on the sports field or the playground in front of the school, so there was no reason to come here—except for secret conversations.

"You're here?"

At Michael Kang's summons, a student appeared on the rooftop. Currently the second-ranked in the school: Ma Seongjin.

Thus, first and second place in the school had gathered here. Seongjin looked puzzled, as if to ask why he was called.

"You're the senior I saw at the arcade, right? I heard you were released from the Recovery Center."

"..."

"So, uh, why did you call me...?"

How could an airhead like this have beaten Sung Chohyang?

Not that he thought Seongjin would be stronger than him, anyway. So Michael started off aggressively.

"No need to drag this out. Hand over my wallet. Now."

"..."

"You definitely stole it, right?"

Michael waved the little note that read, 'Haha, it's fake~.'

That was conclusive evidence. With the 200,000 won inside, he could get leniency at the steakhouse. So, if he could just get the wallet back...

"Pffft!"

"Did you just laugh?"

Michael scowled as Ma Seongjin stifled a laugh. But that wasn't the end.

"My wallet? Did you just say my wallet?"

"...?"

"Puhahahahahahahahaha!!"

Is this guy insane? Did he just do a line of drugs or something? But soon, Seongjin fixed his expression to one of exasperation.

"Hey, why would that be your wallet, you jerk?"

"What, hey?"

"You talking like you own it, when you stole it by pickpocketing?"

"You little...!"

His cocky tone made Michael's blood boil. Unbearable rage and primal instinct swirled in his chest.

But even if he wanted to teach the kid a lesson, getting the wallet back was the first priority.

"Enough! Just tell me where that wallet is!"

"I turned it in at the police box. The owner's probably got it back by now."

"What did you say?"

"What, did I do something wrong?"

He'd simply returned it to its rightful owner. Nothing more, nothing less.

Yet Michael scowled, as if he really thought it was his.

"You want to die? What were you thinking, returning it?"

"Hahahaha... Relax. There was 200,000 won in cash inside, but I have such a big heart, I didn't spend a penny."

"That's not the point!"

Seeing Michael getting more heated, Ma Seongjin tilted his head with a question mark over his face.

"What's the issue? Sure, I could've kept the money, but thought of my conscience and returned it. Is that something to get so mad about?"

"...!"

"That's weird. So, how deep does your conscience go, to brazenly keep someone else's stuff and lecture everyone else about morals?"

Michael, having stolen from others, still declared that the kids who wouldn't give him a bite had no conscience.

No matter how many times he was sent to the Recovery Center, his nature hadn't changed.

"If you're going to act like this, why did you bother going to the center? Just transfer to another school."

"Is that all you have to say?"

Furious, Michael unleashed his magic power in a show of intimidation.

Even before enrollment, he'd strengthened himself by killing monsters bare-handed with his family's support.

No matter if a new second place had appeared, he was certain he couldn't lose. However...

"How cute."

"Huh...!"

With a quiet murmur, the magic power radiating from Ma Seongjin caused frost to form on Michael's forearm.

Michael felt overwhelming power, incomparable to his own. Sung Chohyang? That staff member from the steakhouse?

None of them came close to this kind of pressure—it made cold sweat trickle down his face.

"What's wrong? Aren't you going to keep going?"

Was this a hallucination created by fear? That student, Ma Seongjin, overlapped with the image of a demon.

-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=Beat up, incoming!!!【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】

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