Hongdae Club Psyche was alive with cheers and pounding music.
People waiting in line outside couldn't help but gasp.
"Damn, that car's insane. Is there a celebrity inside or something?"
"That thing's crazy expensive, isn't it?"
"'Expensive' doesn't even cover it. That's the kind of ride you live in an apartment to afford."
"How rich do you have to be to show up in something like that?"
"Isn't that his car? That top-site hotshot. What's his name again? Ryu Seung-kwon? The one with the snake tattoo all over his neck."
"Ugh."
Faces twisted in disgust.
That was the kind of name Ryu Seung-kwon carried.
"Let's not get too close. Heard he's got a serious screw loose."
"There's no one who can beat him in the arrogance department. Just watching his videos makes me cringe."
"Still, don't stare or anything. When he's drunk, he picks fights with anyone."
"Yeah. Diamond spoon, top-tier awakened class—he thinks the world's beneath him. That's why he drives something like tha—huh?"
One of them trailed off, tilting his head.
A man in a black cap, pulled low over his face, was walking toward Ryu Seung-kwon's car.
As he got closer, people noticed what he was holding.
A baseball bat.
Eyes turned toward him all at once.
The man reached the car and raised the bat high.
"W-w-wait…!"
Even then, no one truly believed it.
There was no way he'd actually swing.
After all, this was Ryu Seung-kwon—a diamond spoon heir who'd awakened a powerful class. Rumor had it he even had ties to gangsters. If someone swung that bat, they'd never survive the consequences.
And for a split second, it seemed that prediction was right.
The man froze with the bat in midair.
"Man, that scared me."
"Guess he's got a grudge against Ryu Seung-kwon."
"Wouldn't be the only one."
Sighs of relief rippled through the crowd. Phones came out in unison. Whatever this was, it was prime viral content.
The first shutter clicked. Flash flared.
And at the exact same moment—
The bat came down.
A deafening crack split the air.
"Huh…?"
"Wha—holy shit—!"
The crowd's jaws dropped.
Was this real?
He actually swung it? In front of this many people?
And what kind of bat was that?
It had just flattened a Rolls-Royce in a single blow.
"Wow."
Jinhyuk clicked his tongue.
The vibration traveling up through the bat into his hands sent a thrilling jolt through his body. It felt like all the pent-up frustration he'd been carrying dissolved in that one strike.
He raised the bat again for a second swing—just to finish digesting the meal.
"Hey—hey! What the hell are you doing, you bastard?!"
"Grab him!"
Club guards rushed out.
They didn't bother telling him to put the bat down. It was too late for that.
One by one, they lunged at him. Some had clearly awakened combat classes; energy shimmered faintly around them.
But to Jinhyuk, they were painfully slow.
He sidestepped lightly, hooked a leg to trip one, flung another aside with a casual twist. He didn't beat them up too badly—they were just doing their jobs.
'Not enough.'
He still hadn't fully vented Duram No.1's grudge.
Looks like everyone's had their fun filming. Time to move.
"Uh…?"
The onlookers were stunned again.
As if lifting a serving tray, the man picked up the crumpled Rolls-Royce.
The guards blanched.
"H-hey… hey. Put that down. Let's talk this out. Calm down. You don't want to deal with the consequences!"
"It's not too late to—"
They didn't get to finish.
The man bolted, carrying the car, at a speed no one dared chase.
"Tonight's on me! Drink up!"
"Woooooo!"
Inside the VVIP room, cheers exploded alongside the music.
Glasses clinked. Champagne sloshed over the rims, but no one cared. They were too busy drowning themselves in alcohol.
"Ha!"
Ryu Seung-kwon drained his glass and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the opposite wall.
No one flinched.
Compared to the things the spoiled delinquent usually pulled, this was mild.
"Another bottle! Hurry!"
He flung a card and a stack of fifty-thousand-won bills onto the table.
Maybe it was because he'd been laying low to avoid his father's scrutiny, but the alcohol tasted sweeter than ever tonight.
Ji Cheol-ju swallowed nervously. Ryu's mood was far more volatile than expected. Tonight was going to be rough.
Bang!
The club manager burst through the door.
Ji Cheol-ju frowned. The man's face was deathly pale.
"Hey, asshole! Even if I told you to hurry, you knock first!"
"D-Director Ryu! Something's happened! You need to come out right now!"
"What the hell could be more important than this? I'm having fun! You trying to kill the mood? Go get the champagne before you end up in serious trouble!"
"Someone took your car!"
"…What?"
Ryu Seung-kwon's brow creased.
What kind of nonsense was that?
"Everyone shut up!"
The room fell silent at his roar.
"What the hell are you talking about? Explain."
"Some guy wearing a mask and a cap just showed up and carried it off! The guards tried to stop him, but he took them down instantly!"
It sounded absurd.
He'd have to see it himself.
Stepping over the table littered with drinks and food, Ryu stormed out.
"You'd better pray you're not lying. I was just getting started."
He left the club.
And froze.
It was gone.
The Rolls-Royce he'd parked in the most visible spot—where everyone coming and going could see it—was gone.
"What the hell happened?"
He ran a hand through his hair and walked to where it had been parked.
He'd spent nearly four billion won customizing that car. One of only two in Korea. Impossible to replace.
He only drove it on club nights. It was his pride.
"Hey! Get up, you useless bastards!"
He grabbed a groaning guard by the collar.
"Th-that way!"
"Over there!"
People pointed in a direction.
Ryu gritted his teeth and kicked off the ground, activating his class ability and crossing the street in a flash.
Whether out of fear or excitement, bystanders kept pointing him onward.
What kind of lunatic would dare?
Who had the guts to openly carry off his car?
His.
Ryu Seung-kwon of Jaeung Construction.
"Son of a—!"
His face twisted as he pushed faster.
After a certain point, he no longer needed directions.
There was a trail.
Side mirrors and doors scattered at regular intervals.
If this had happened to someone else, he might've laughed and called it some twisted version of Hansel and Gretel.
But now—
"You fucking—!"
His curses echoed down the street.
He followed the debris to a run-down construction site.
"Come out, you bastard! I'll kill you!"
Silence.
He stalked forward, fuming.
And then he stopped.
There it was.
His car.
Or what was left of it.
Flattened beyond recognition.
His mouth fell open.
Even seeing it with his own eyes, it felt unreal.
"This… this is my car?"
He scratched his head and touched the flattened metal, now pressed thin like a hotteok pancake.
How hard, how many times did someone have to hit it to turn it into this?
Did that bastard even know this thing was worth over four billion won?
Heat surged up from deep inside him. His head burned.
"Who the hell did this? Kim Jung-joon? No… that idiot doesn't have the guts. Yoo So-hee? She's not that reckless."
Faces flashed through his mind.
He'd made plenty of enemies. More than he could count.
"Ah."
He stopped abruptly.
A face surfaced in his memory.
The incident in front of the real estate office earlier that day.
The motorcycle he'd run over.
It had looked just like this.
The realization clicked.
That bastard. The biker.
"Ha…"
A hollow laugh escaped him.
It wasn't even anger at first—just disbelief.
Was he really getting screwed over by some nobody?
He pulled out his phone.
"Manager Ji. Found the car. Never mind that—what's that punk's name?"
"…That punk?"
"The idiot who made a move today. The one whose bike I crushed."
"Ah, Yoo Jinhyuk! He's moving to a property in Seopangyo tomorrow!"
"Is that so? Good."
Ryu's lips curled upward.
So the brat had awakened some measly strength class and thought he could run wild.
He'd picked the wrong target.
"Manager Ji. We're going hard this time. Just driving him out isn't enough. I want him on his knees, clinging to my pants, begging. I want to drag his life straight into the gutter. Got it?"
"Understood. I'll prepare immediately."
Rage churned in his chest.
He wanted to go kill him right now—but he couldn't.
Public opinion was already bad. His father had told him to lie low for a while.
"I'll grind that bastard down slowly."
He repeated the name Yoo Jinhyuk.
A punk who'd made a little money and lost his sense of fear.
He'd show him just how far a seemingly solid life could collapse.
On the officetel balcony, Jinhyuk leaned back in a chair and exhaled.
Now that he'd smashed it to his heart's content, he finally felt refreshed.
'That was one expensive hotteok.'
He nodded to himself.
He could say with confidence—he'd probably never see a more expensive pancake in his life.
"Bungbung No. 3! No. 4! Clean here too!"
The shout from the living room made his eyes snap open.
He rushed to the balcony door.
"Momo! Don't enhance the new Bungbungs!"
"Don't worry, sir! I'll keep watch! Momo! Don't touch it! You'll lose your hands!"
After giving the dependable Kancho a thumbs-up, Jinhyuk returned to his chair.
He pulled out his phone and checked the Top Site and social media.
The reaction was even hotter than he'd expected.
And better yet, the direction of that reaction was exactly what he'd hoped for.
"Heh."
A chuckle slipped from his lips as he hummed under his breath.
He'd watch a little longer—
Then start packing for the move.
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T/N:
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