Weekend sun always had a different smell to it—lighter , freer , a sun that pumped energy into everything it touched. I felt it on my skin as I ran along the Han River, trying to convince myself that fresh air could fix the weird reality I'd somehow dropped into.
The river looked almost unreal that day … wide, calm, and bright enough to hurt the eyes. Sunlight slid across its surface in shimmering streaks, turning every small ripple into a spark . The smell of the river mixed with warm pavement, making the whole place feel peaceful … too peaceful for the kind of life I'd just been dragged into. And for a brief moment I pretended I didn't go to a school where "fight fines" existed.
However, with every step I ran , the scenery around me faded into the background . The only thing I could focus on anymore was my own breathing . A painfully loud rhythm echoing through my head like I became suddenly hyper-aware of being alive . It was annoying , borderline dramatic until I could finally hear something else , someone calling my name . I blinked mid-stride … no way.
Is last night's dream still clinging to me like some creepy aftertaste? The voice kept going , getting clearer , louder . Closer . And … was that barking?
I slowed down immediately , because even I knew my hallucinations weren't advanced enough to include sound effects .
I stopped completely and turned around.
"OH! Hey bud!"
There it was . An actual person . An actual dog . And an actual realization that I was an idiot for thinking I was spiritually haunted at ten in the morning . Zion was walking towards me, casual as ever, his smile wide enough to belong on a billboard, a small dog trotting beside him like a loyal sidekick.
And then the dog got close.
My brain halted.
Her eyes weren't the same size. Her fur stuck up in random directions and she looked at me like she was evaluating my soul.
"What a coincidence," I managed , my eyes fixed on his puppy still trying to figure out what species she actually was.
"This your dog?" I asked.
Zion knelt down, rubbing the dog's head proudly. "Yeah, this is Layla. Isn't she the cutest?"
I crouched too, out of politeness and self-defense. Layla blinked. One eye first, then the other . Five long seconds apart.
"Yeah… yeah she is… I guess."
We straightened up and Zion ran his hand through his shiny blond hair.
"You're pretty athletic," he said, eyeing me. "Good for you then . You'll survive the school fights with an average body."
I snorted quietly and looked away.
"Don't know about that… It's not even been a full week since I joined, and I already got fined yesterday. For skipping a fight. Skipping. A fight."
Zion raised a brow, amused. "Really? That sucks. You can pay, though. You seem pretty well off."
"It's not even about the money," I said, nudging a tiny stone with my foot . "It's just… unbelievable. Stuff like this only happens in movies, in series, in some messed-up fiction. Not real life. And yet here we are."
Zion leaned back against a bench like he'd done this a hundred times.
"It's okay , you'll adapt . Just go with the flow."
"That's not comforting," I muttered.
"Doesn't need to be." He shrugged. "It's not like you can transfer anyway."
Those words got my full attention .
"Huh? Why not?"
"That's how it works. Once you're in… you're in. Until graduation." He hesitated, gaze drifting to the water. "Or you… mm. Disappear."
A cold drop slid down my spine. I leaned forward, staring at him.
"See that right there , it's not normal because , what do you mean disappear?"
"If I knew what that meant, or if I had enough proof to report anything," Zion said quietly, "I would've done it already."
His tone made me swallow. Whatever he meant… it wasn't a joke.
Then he suddenly brightened, bumping my shoulder with his elbow as if he hadn't just addressed me with the most mysterious tone that gave me literal chills.
"Anyway! Let's go. Drinks are on me."
He pointed dramatically at me like some kind of hero and right there , instant embarrassment flooded me:
"You need to stay hydrated."
"Not again…"
We started walking, Layla waddling behind us like a living potato. The river breeze felt cooler, but my head was still spinning from everything he'd said.
As we passed under a patch of shade, I caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. Right , it's that guy sitting at the very front desk in our class . He was leaning against a pillar, watching us with those unreadable eyes of his, almost fully covered with his dark hair . We walked a few meters past him when I turned to Zion as I couldn't hold my curiosity any further :
" What was his name again?" I asked tilting my head a little backward to point at him .
"OH , that's Ash , He's the highest ranker in our class , he's ranked third in the system"
THIRD ?! as in … two people away from the top . As in … someone I had just made eye contact with without thinking of the consequences . I didn't know whether to be impressed , terrified , or offended by how effortlessly he carried that kind of power while looking like he couldn't care less. All I knew was that every instinct in me screamed the same thing : don't make that guy your enemy . Ever .
"You're right, " Zion snapped .
I stared at him, concern slipping into my expression as I struggled to understand what he was actually referring to through his words .
" You're thinking about avoiding him as much as you can aren't you ? … Well you should , unless you enjoy hospital food "
Well that was definitely not necessary. I'm already stressed enough as it is .
We continued our way to a nearby convenience store , and just as I thought I calmed down a bit, we came across Nero and his group . Great . That was all I needed .
"If my dad finds out I sold his suit AND his watch," Nero said, exasperated, "he'll strangle me to death."
One of his friends scoffed. "At least you paid. Now you just got to destroy that newbie and get back to your original rank."
I'm that newbie. Fuck.
Nero ran a hand on his nearly bald head and laughed, sharp and unpleasant :
"He pisses me off. His existence is enough to disgust me. I swear, the day will come when I'll break his bones while he's begging for his life. He made me fall to the bottom of the list."
I felt Zion glance at me.
Perfect. Hospital food can't be that bad , right ?
As if the universe loved dramatic timing, Nero's head snapped up just as we passed.
"Oh! What a coincidence," he said, smirking as he rose. "We were just talking about you."
He stood fully, stretching his arms like he was warming up for a sport.
"I hope you always show up at the perfect time to get beaten up."
I shot Zion a look , a terrified one .He smiled back—encouragingly, annoyingly, uselessly.
Without warning, Nero slung an arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. His grip was tight enough to bruise.
"You caught me off guard last time," he said, breath smelling like cheap mints. "Made me pay a HUGE amount of money. So I'll be generous again. One punch for every Won I paid."
My eyes widened.
"I—wait—"
Punch.
"One."
My back slammed into the wall.
Punch.
"Two."
Warm blood dripped down my lip.
He drew his arm back again, but this time instinct—or desperation—made me lift my arm and block.
"Oh?" Nero chuckled. "Trying to fight back?"
He didn't continue himself. Instead, he jerked his chin at one of his friends who quickly grabbed my arm and twisted it behind me , forcing me still.
Punch.
"Three."
Pain shot through my skull.
Punch, punch, punch.
"Four, five, six."
The world tilted . My breathing was ragged, uneven, each inhale catching as I tried to steady myself, fearing the impact the next punch will have on me . And just as Nero cocked his arm again, a hand shot in, catching his wrist mid-swing.
Zion finally decided to step in , his expression calm, almost bored.
"Hey, hey. Chill."
Nero shrieked as Zion twisted his wrist :"A—AAAGH my wrist!"
Zion shoved him backward while keeping the twist, his other hand pushing him like Nero weighed nothing.
"You do know," Zion said casually, "a fight outside school won't count, right?"
Nero writhed, face red :"Aaagh—let go, you dumbass!"
Zion finally released him and brushed invisible dust off his pants, flicking his hand like Nero's existence was the dirt.
"Play fair, Noro."
Every friend froze.
Nero froze.
"It's Nero," he snapped.
Zion took a long sip of his soda.
"Whatever."
And just like that, he walked past them unbothered , carrying his Layla in his arms like a newborn , expecting me to follow.
I wiped the blood off my lip, legs shaky, head pounding, and wondered ,not for the first time, if having average fighting skills was really enough to survive this school. This Nero guy wouldn't leave me alone until he takes his rank back from me . I wouldn't survive a fight against him , last time I got lucky he was already injured . Next time , I need to be prepared , I can't let him win , I have to climb my way up if I want to know the truth about my brother . But how? How can I become better at fighting? These guys don't mess .
Surprisingly , I did enjoy walking around with Zion . For some time , I felt normal again though the thoughts of being attacked at any moment by Nero , once in school , kept on haunting me :
"I'll go now … this is where I live " I said, reaching for my appartement's card in my pocket .
" You sure have enough money to skip fights and pay fines … is this Hera Palace ? " Zion's eyes scanned the whole skyscraper, his tone sarcastic .
"And what's that exactly ? "
"No way , well , you sure don't watch dramas , you Walmart Wonder boy "
"No you didn't … " I said right when realization hit me , Walmart ?! Seriously ! I couldn't even think of a comeback before he started walking backwards , further , waving a dramatic goodbye as if it was our last meeting .
After a refreshing shower I sat at my desk . Should I join taekwondo ? or maybe Karaté ? Boxing ? wrestling ? There were too many options and a little time . That's it , I'm done for . I scrolled too far searching for the best fighting clubs , all of them stated that becoming a fighter takes time , I don't have time . I almost gave up until I found one site , that seemed interesting :
" Secure your spot at The anonymous Arena.
Inside this club your identity does not exist.
Every member fights under a customized mask — no real details allowed.
No faces. No names. No personal histories.
Your mask is your identity
Enter hidden. Train hard. Leave unknown "
"Well , I guess I should go with this one , I like the no identity concept , less problems for me "
I didn't hesitate any further and quickly filled the form that got accepted almost immediately :
" Congratulations ! Welcome to The Anonymous arena !"
Your first practice will be tomorrow Monday at 6pm . Make sure you're not late as discipline is important.
Be creative and don't show up without your mask ! "
I spent much more time working on my mask than expected , and much more money too. I tried to be as creative as possible , and all I had to do was avoid Nero until I learned something useful at that arena . I couldn't recall myself getting into a fight before the one against Nero . That's why I couldn't even recognize my own potential . "Guess I'll discover that tomorrow though"
RING RING RING
Two more hours to go , two more hours in class and I'll be fine , two more hours next to Zion where Nero doesn't have the courage to approach me . I've never thought I'd reach a state where I would stay on a chair for a whole day without moving an inch out of fear. I couldn't even go to the restroom and the only reason why I could eat lunch was because I stuck with Zion , closer to him than his own shadow .
" Where are you headed , isn't your house , oh sorry I meant your penthouse … , the other way? " Said Zion wrapping his arm around my neck with such force that my back bent over .
" I have somewhere to go first "
"Well great , see you tomorrow then"
By the time I reached the location written on the website , It was only six minutes left before 6pm , I stopped in front of the door to the Anonymous Arena, and for a moment it felt less like a door and more like a threshold into another life . It was a tall slab of dark steel, matte and heavy, edges worn just enough to show it had been opened thousands of times—but never gently. A single vertical strip of amber light pulsed along the left side—slow, steady, like a heartbeat—casting my reflection in fractured glints across the surface.
There was no sign, no name, no symbols, just a small panel at eye level displaying the Arena's one rule in sharp digital text :
NO FACE. NO NAME. NO HISTORY.
The air around the door hummed with low bass from the training halls inside, a distant rhythm like thunder buried underground. I could smell metal, sweat, and cold air leaking through the edges, proof that real fighters were already inside.
I took one last breath as myself. The moment I put on the mask, the door opened — and I had this feeling that the world on the other side wouldn't care who I had been .
Only who I would become.