Kūkyonai

Day after day passed without any incident for the unfortunate boy, Takada—a bespectacled teenager whose perpetually gloomy expression seemed to reflect the weight of his monotonous life. To those around him, his existence appeared to be nothing more than a series of uneventful moments blending into one another, devoid of anything extraordinary. Once again, this dreary routine had brought him back to the cold, sterile confines of the hospital room. There, he lay quietly on his bed, leaning against the rigid headboard, surrounded by impersonal walls that exuded an aura of loneliness. With nothing but his trusty laptop and a variety of Korean drama series to keep him company, he sought solace in a world far removed from his own.

The laptop rested haphazardly on the edge of the bed, its dim glow reflecting faintly off his glasses as he immersed himself in the vibrant colors and heartwarming stories playing out on the screen. As the touching narrative unfolded before him, tugging relentlessly at his heartstrings, he found tears welling up in his eyes, their warm trails streaming down his cheeks. The quiet, almost solemn room bore silent witness to his unspoken emotions as he surrendered himself completely to the raw beauty of the story unraveling before him.

"Sniff.. Sniffes H-huh.. "

Often, sobs escaped his lips without him realizing it, his emotions utterly overwhelmed by the heart-wrenching scenes playing out before his eyes. Every poignant moment in these dramas seemed to possess an extraordinary ability to pierce straight into the deepest recesses of his heart, rendering him powerless to hold back his tears as he watched. Each scene unfolded with such intensity that it dragged him further into a vortex of raw feelings, making him oblivious to the sterile surroundings of his hospital room.

But just as he was fully immersed in the emotional waves of the story, completely captivated by its gripping narrative, his reverie was suddenly shattered in the most aggravating way imaginable. The laptop screen froze mid-scene, leaving the characters stranded in an awkward silence, and the dreaded loading wheel—the bane of every viewer—appeared right in the center of the screen. The jarring interruption yanked him out of his emotional engagement, replacing his profound sadness with a surge of irritation and disappointment at the unwanted disruption.

"U-ugh, typical…"

he muttered softly, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance as he glared at the spinning wheel of doom now ruining his attempt to escape reality. It was a bitter reminder of how unreliable the internet connection could be, especially at the most critical and inconvenient moments.

Several excruciating minutes passed, each one feeling longer than the last, as he clung to a faint hope that the issue would resolve itself. However, the obstacle stubbornly refused to budge, leaving him stranded in frustration. He let out a soft, exasperated groan, his eyes fixed on the frozen frame dominating his screen. The still image captured a tender moment: the female lead clasping her lover's hand, their expressions soft and brimming with undeniable affection. It was a scene designed to tug at the heartstrings, now trapped in an unyielding state of limbo.

"Of all the scene in this series why this one..?"

he grumbled aloud, his voice a mix of annoyance and a hint of embarrassment. He couldn't decide whether to laugh at the absurdity of the situation or wallow in his frustration. As his gaze lingered on the frozen scene before him, his thoughts began to wander unconsciously. A memory from the day before surfaced vividly, clear and unbidden.

In that fleeting moment, he recalled how Erin, his classmate, had suddenly reached out and taken his hand. The memory bore such a striking resemblance to the image displayed on his laptop screen that it left him momentarily stunned. His chest tightened, and his heart began pounding rapidly with a nervous intensity that caught him off guard. A warmth crept across his face, spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, as the connection between the two moments became impossible to ignore.

Panicking, he slammed the laptop shut, trying to dispel the awkward feelings surging within him. His mind raced as he struggled to regain his composure, but his cheeks remained flushed with embarrassment.

"Who knew a bad internet connection could lead to something this humiliating?"

he muttered softly, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and lingering embarrassment.

Just as he began to settle back into his thoughts, a notification sound blared from his phone, startling him. It rang out loud and clear, resembling a doorbell that echoed through the quiet room. Curious, Takada reached over to grab his phone from the bedside table, the glow of the screen reflecting in his glasses.

Unlocking it with a swipe, he discovered that the notification was an email from his new school. The email contained a link and a short note attached. Without reading the message carefully—his usual careless nature getting the better of him—Takada clicked the link without a second thought.

The link redirected him to an online form.

The screen displayed boxes requiring personal details: name, phone number, and classroom information. With a shrug, Takada filled out the form quickly, paying little attention to the purpose behind it. Once completed, he hit the "Submit" button and moved on to what he assumed was just a follow-up questionnaire.

What he saw next, however, caught him off guard. A bold title appeared on his screen:

"Graphical Memory Test."

"Huh?.. What is this supposed to be? I don't recall being taught anything about graphical memory in school.."

he murmured, confusion clear in his tone. While Takada was puzzling over this strange quiz in the solitude of his hospital room, a different scene was playing out in his classroom. The room was unnervingly silent, each student hunched over their phones, carefully working through the same quiz. Among them was Nam Gyeol, a studious boy who had no patience for distractions.

As he worked diligently through the questions, Nam Gyeol's eyes occasionally wandered to the empty seat that belonged to Takada. A thought crossed his mind, laced with annoyance.

"Tch, typical. He probably broke his leg on purpose just to avoid showing up for this," Nam Gyeol thought with a smirk.

But before he could dwell on his irritation, he felt a firm tap on his shoulder. Startled, he turned to see who it was, only to be met with an imposing figure clad in white armor. The guard's presence was intimidating, their face hidden behind a reflective visor.

"Eyes on your screen only. No looking around," the guard commanded in a cold, stern voice.

Nam Gyeol froze for a moment, his confusion turning to unease.

The sheer absurdity of having an armed, armored guard for a school quiz left him at a loss for words. Without protesting, he turned back to his phone, his heart pounding.

"What kind of quiz is this? Why are the guards dressed like they're ready for battle? This is stricter than any national exam," Nam Gyeol thought, struggling to make sense of the bizarre situation.

As if the tension in the room wasn't high enough, the door suddenly opened, and an older man in a sharp suit entered. His presence immediately drew attention. The way he carried himself radiated authority and professionalism, commanding respect from the students without uttering a single word.

Whispers broke out among the students as they speculated about who he was and why he was here. The murmurs quickly grew louder, turning the once-silent classroom into a chaotic buzz of chatter.

Without warning, one of the armed guards raised their weapon and fired a shot into the ceiling. The sound reverberated through the room, silencing everyone instantly.

"QUIET!" the suited man bellowed, his voice booming with authority. The room fell deathly silent, the students now too afraid to even whisper.

Nam Gyeol, however, remained unfazed. His focus was fixed on his phone as he worked through the quiz, determined to finish it despite the chaos around him.

Time ticked on, and soon, an alarm rang through the room, signaling the end of the quiz.

Nam Gyeol submitted his answers and watched as his results loaded on the screen. A score of 78 appeared, along with a brief note: "Probability of solving complex puzzles: 70%."

"What kind of absurd quiz was this?"

He thought, still trying to process everything that had just transpired. Until, without warning, the school door was forcefully kicked open by a squadron of armed soldiers.

They stormed into the classroom in a coordinated rush, heading directly toward Takada's desk and chair. With precision and unwavering intent, they aimed all their weapons at the unoccupied seat, creating a tense and oppressive atmosphere.

Nam Gyeol, caught off guard by the sudden chaos, instinctively stepped back from the soldiers as they converged near Takada's desk, which was close to where he had been sitting.

The classroom quickly descended into pandemonium. Piercing screams, hysterical sobbing, and desperate cries of fear filled the air as students reacted to the sudden intrusion of heavily armed soldiers, their actions seemingly inexplicable yet overwhelmingly threatening.

Nam Gyeol strained his ears, eavesdropping on a cluster of armed soldiers who had gathered near Takada's empty desk. Their weapons were drawn and poised, their presence exuding an air of palpable menace. Amidst the low hum of tension, Nam Gyeol caught a fragment of a whispered conversation, hurried and ominous.

"Report: The participant is not present."

Nam Gyeol's heart raced as he processed the cryptic words. The implications dawned on him with chilling clarity—they were after one of the quiz participants. And that participant could only be Takada.

"They're targeting Takada? If that's the case, then he must be taking the quiz at his hospital," Nam Gyeol surmised inwardly, his thoughts spiraling into chaos. His eyes darted to the left and right, desperately trying to piece together the logic of this harrowing situation. The atmosphere around him felt suffocating, as though the air itself had grown heavier.

Just as he began to assess the scene, a sound pierced the tense silence.

"Tick... tick... tick..."

Nam Gyeol froze. That sound—it was eerily familiar, a noise he had encountered countless times in online shooting games. But now, it wasn't virtual. It was real. He felt a surge of dread crawl up his spine.

"That's… That's a Bo-"

"KABOOM!"

A thunderous explosion ripped through the school, the deafening blast reverberating like a nightmare come to life. The roof above gave way instantly, collapsing like a fragile piece of confection shattering under a torrent of scalding tea. Chunks of debris rained down mercilessly, making the students badly injured. Screams of agony and terror filled the air, mingling with the sound of fire crackling and rubble crashing.

"AHHH!!!"

The class descended into pandemonium. Smoke billowed out, thick and choking, as the bomb's devastating impact created a hellish landscape of flame, ruin, and destruction.

Nam Gyeol moved on instinct, dodging a falling beam just in time. His foot slipped on the debris-strewn floor, sending him sprawling to the ground near his desk. The shock of the fall jarred him, but adrenaline surged through his veins, overriding his pain.

As he lay there, he saw the soldiers. Calm, unbothered, they marched out of the classroom as if nothing had happened. The sight left Nam Gyeol seething with helplessness. His mind flickered back to the older man the one who had burst into the classroom earlier with an air of authority and a shout that had set the events into motion.

Nam Gyeol's gaze shifted toward the front of the classroom, but the man who had been standing there earlier was already gone. As if lost in thought, Nam Gyeol slowly stood up, letting his mind process the chaos that surrounded him. The desperate cries of his classmates, trapped beneath the rubble, pierced through the haze of his thoughts and spurred him into action. Without hesitation, he rushed toward them, determination etched on his face, working tirelessly to free those pinned down by the collapsed structure.

Meanwhile, Ryuen, a senior student who shared a class with Erin Schuwald, found himself on a different floor of the building. Although the destruction on their level was not as severe, the scene was far from safe. Smoke and flames spread rapidly, threatening to engulf everything in their path. Wasting no time, the students on his floor began evacuating, running toward the schoolyard as quickly as their feet could carry them.

The remaining students now stood outside, their eyes fixed on the windows of the upper floors. Thick plumes of smoke billowed outward, a stark and harrowing reminder of the destruction that had unfolded. Whispers of disbelief rippled through the gathered crowd as they struggled to comprehend the magnitude of what had just occurred.

Then, cutting through the chaos like a blade, the distinct sound of a helicopter's rotors filled the air. From behind the school, the aircraft emerged, its imposing form ascending steadily into the sky. The sight of it instantly captured the students' attention, confusion spreading across their faces like a wave. Among them was Ryuen, his sharp eyes tracking every movement of the helicopter with an intensity that betrayed his suspicions.

"A helicopter…? From the upper floors? That doesn't make any sense. They must be the ones responsible for the explosion," Ryuen muttered to himself, his voice laced with mistrust and a creeping sense of foreboding.

His gaze remained locked on the ascending helicopter as it climbed higher and higher, disappearing into the distant horizon. Just as he began to delve deeper into his swirling thoughts, a gentle tap on his shoulder broke his concentration. He turned to find Erin Schuwald standing behind him, her face set with a determined expression that carried a gravity he hadn't seen in her before. Her voice, though low, held a firm resolve as she spoke.

"That's the White Knights. They're an organization notorious for targeting students with extraordinary intelligence and unmatched skills," Erin explained, her words deliberate and heavy with meaning. "I read about them in a book written by one of their hostages—a survivor from one of their operations. When the White Knights captured this individual, they were still just a student."

Her voice faltered briefly, a tremor betraying the anger simmering beneath her calm exterior, but her eyes burned with unmistakable fury. She shifted her gaze back to the helicopter, her expression hardening with disgust.

"And now here they are," she continued, her tone dripping with venom, "barging into this school, completely disregarding the lives of everyone here."

Ryuen's eyes narrowed as he studied Erin, his curiosity piqued. How did she know so much about this enigmatic group? The intensity of her words and the unshakable conviction in her voice unsettled him. After a moment of silence, he broke the tension with a wry smirk.

"You're surprisingly well-informed, Erin Schuwald. I always thought you were just an ordinary girl obsessed with romance and trivial nonsense," he remarked, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Erin's expression darkened with irritation. With a sharp, frustrated motion, she yanked her hand off Ryuen's shoulder and spun on her heel, marching briskly toward her group of friends. Her face was a storm of frustration as she observed them huddled together, trembling in fear. Strangely, she seemed to switch gears almost instantly, feigning terror and adopting an exaggeratedly demure demeanor in front of her peers. It was as if she were trying to act like a typical girl who had just endured a harrowing ordeal.

Ryuen, wholly uninterested in Erin's antics or the nervous chatter of her friends, turned his attention back to the school. To his surprise, a group of tenth-grade students had just emerged from the school's bus stop, their bodies showing clear signs of severe burns. Yet, what caught Ryuen's eye wasn't the group as a whole but one student in particular—a boy with neatly combed hair and glasses who seemed remarkably composed. The boy was calmly assisting the injured students, helping them move to safety with a level of professionalism that was strikingly out of place.

Moved by a sense of genuine compassion, Ryuen didn't hesitate to step in, hurrying to help those who were struggling to keep up. Together, they managed to guide the injured to the relative safety of the schoolyard. Outside, the scene was chaotic and unsettling: clusters of teachers sat on the cold, dusty ground, drenched in sweat and visibly shaken. The students, too, were clearly exhausted, their faces pale and etched with disbelief.

In the middle of it all stood the principal, her face ashen and her expression frozen in shock. She seemed to be grappling with the sheer magnitude of what had just transpired. Struggling to steady her trembling hands, she reached for her sleek smartphone and hastily dialed the authorities.

"I deeply apologize to all of you… I should never have accepted the offer from those deceitful individuals," the old principal stammered, her voice trembling with panic and regret. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture and raised her voice with newfound resolve.

"I will take immediate action against their cruel and unjust behavior!" she declared, her tone firm and resolute as she waited for the police to respond.

A wave of relief swept over the teachers and students as they turned their attention to the principal. For the first time since the chaos began, a glimmer of hope appeared among them. They all seemed to believe that, with the authorities now involved, the group wouldn't dare return to the school.

Whispered conversations broke the lingering tension as everyone tried to recover from the harrowing ordeal. Exhausted bodies slumped onto the sandy pavement, too drained to stand after enduring such immense stress. Nearby, a cluster of students sobbed uncontrollably, recounting the horrifying events they had just survived. The teachers shared their own stories, each one as terrifying as the next.

Amid the commotion, Ryuen stood alone, his calm demeanor unshaken. To him, the scene felt all too familiar, as though he had witnessed chaos like this before. With measured precision, his sharp eyes scanned the surroundings until they once again landed on the bespectacled younger boy. The boy's composed demeanor as he aided the injured had left a lasting impression on Ryuen.

Casually, Ryuen approached the younger student, his strides unhurried but purposeful. When he finally stood before him, he tilted his head slightly and asked, his tone both curious and authoritative,

"Hey, you with the glasses," Ryuen called out, his voice laced with a condescending edge. "What's your name, or should I just call you 'the teacher's pet'?"

The younger student lifted his head to meet Ryuen's gaze, his expression calm and unwavering. Rising from where he had been kneeling, the boy straightened his posture and observed Ryuen for a moment before responding. His voice was steady, almost mechanical, like someone accustomed to formality.

"My name is Nam Gyeol, and I'm sixteen years old," he replied evenly. "I can confidently say I have a thorough and comprehensive understanding of all the subjects currently taught at this school, even though I've only recently transferred here."

Ryuen's expression darkened slightly, his eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. There was something about Gyeol's tone that struck him as arrogant, as if the boy were deliberately flaunting his intellect. It irked him, especially given how irrelevant the information was in the current context. Fixing Gyeol with a sharp glare, Ryuen's voice turned cold as he retorted,

"Yeah, I know, and frankly, I don't care about your so-called abilities. Honestly, you're just showing off. The reason I'm talking to you isn't to hear about your skills but to ask about what just happened—what you and your classmates experienced."

Unfazed by Ryuen's sharp tone, Gyeol crossed his arms over his chest, his stance relaxed yet firm as he prepared to answer. His voice was steady, carrying a faint air of calm that belied the tension of the situation.

"Very well, I'll answer your question, oh cruel-looking senior," Gyeol began, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "From my perspective, this group of individuals clearly targeted a specific objective—someone with a rare type of intelligence. Such people are exceedingly rare, and it's improbable that many students, or even people in general, possess the unique abilities they're seeking."

Adjusting his glasses with a measured motion, he pushed them higher up the bridge of his nose before continuing with a tone that exuded confidence and precision.

"Through a link containing a 'Graphic Memory Test'—a school assignment that, at the very least, was highly unusual—I found myself confronted with something entirely unexpected. The quiz was unlike any test I had encountered before. Even I only managed to score 78%, which was both intriguing and unsettling. The benchmark for solving that puzzle was also set at 78%. That alone felt strange, almost confounding, given the task's complexity.

But what was truly bizarre was what happened next. Just as I was pondering the puzzle, a man suddenly appeared before me. He wore white armor, a striking figure whose appearance resembled that of a soldier. Without any warning, he patted my shoulder. I turned to my right, unable to suppress my curiosity, only to find myself staring at an empty chair—usually occupied by my friend."

Ryuen paused, momentarily taken aback as Gyeol mentioned his absent friend. With curiosity piqued, Ryuen crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of intrigue and arrogance. Finally, he broke the silence, responding in a deep, quick tone that added weight to the already tense atmosphere.

"If I may ask, who is this friend of yours that's missing?"

Without hesitation, Gyeol prepared to answer, but his attention was suddenly drawn to a girl who had been standing with her friends. She had moved closer, as if she, too, wanted to know what had happened to Gyeol's absent friend.

Gyeol glanced back, observing the girl as she returned to her conversation with her friends. Only now, she was much closer to him. Her tone was feminine yet fearful, but Gyeol couldn't shake the feeling that there was something odd, almost familiar, about her.

Ryuen placed a firm hand on Gyeol's shoulder, snapping him out of his silence. Irritated by Gyeol's lack of response, Ryuen asked again,

"Hey, you haven't answered my question. Who's your friend that's missing?"

"Sorry, my focus was diverted by something."

With professional composure, Gyeol lifted his head to meet Ryuen's gaze. With an air of determination and charisma, he leaned slightly closer to Ryuen, intensifying the serious and charged atmosphere between them.

"His name is Utsu Takada, a student who's always late and embarrasses himself every time he's in class."

Hearing this, Ryuen relaxed his stance, uncrossing his arms and adopting a more open gesture. He spoke again in his usual tone.

"Oh, yeah, I know that kid. You must be in the same class since you're in the same grade, and both of you are juniors."

Gyeol closed his eyes briefly, his expression hinting at slight annoyance as Ryuen repeatedly emphasized the term "junior." It felt exaggerated, and Gyeol found it irksome. After a few moments of silence, Gyeol spoke again, seemingly ready to share more information.

"Whatever you say, senior, but something was very odd after the quiz session ended. The strange thing was that soldiers dressed like military personnel, carrying full weaponry, suddenly entered our classroom and pointed their guns at Takada's empty seat."

Ryuen's eyes widened slightly at the bizarre revelation. He moved closer, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity as he processed Gyeol's statement.

"Pointing their guns at Takada's empty seat? But why?"

Without missing a beat, Gyeol responded calmly,

"Maybe because Takada achieved something they—what I assume to be an 'organization'—were looking for? I'm not entirely sure about my theory; it could be something else. But in my opinion, this group is part of some 'organization.' Then again, I don't know who they are or what they want—"

Before Gyeol could finish his sentence, the girl from earlier suddenly walked past him and forcefully grabbed Ryuen's hand. Gyeol immediately recognized her. The panicked expression and beads of sweat on her forehead made him suspect that Takada was of great importance to her.

"Erin Schuwald… right? She's supposed to be a senior like 'arrogant Ryuen.' No wonder she's dragging him along," Gyeol thought to himself as he watched Erin and Ryuen run hand in hand toward the parking lot, seemingly heading somewhere urgent.

"I wonder what's going to happen next," Gyeol mused silently as he watched Ryuen and Erin weave through the crowd of students and teachers before finally disappearing from view.

Time passed, and Ryuen and Erin, their faces marked with panic, approached Ryuen's motorcycle. Wasting no time, they climbed aboard. Erin, her voice trembling with urgency, spoke from the back seat as Ryuen started the engine.

"Hurry up, idiot! They're after That Nerds! Damn it… it seems like he has one of those skills. And the worst part is they can track him… through their damn link."

Hearing this, Ryuen immediately understood, recalling the information Erin had shared when the helicopter left the school. Both of them now realized why the helicopter had departed so abruptly.

"I know, love-struck maniac, you don't need to spell out what I already figured out," Ryuen replied.

He revved the engine, accelerating rapidly, and they eventually arrived at their destination: the hospital where Takada was staying. Erin jumped off the motorcycle and ran toward the hospital without hesitation, with Ryuen close behind, leaving his vehicle running in his haste.

The two of them sprinted past dozens of doctors and patients lying unconscious on the floor, seemingly rendered unconscious by some kind of toxic gas. Ignoring the scene, they pushed forward, heading straight for Takada's room.

When they finally reached the room, they burst inside, only to be met with a chilling sight. The IV stand and tubing had been ripped out forcefully, leaving bloodstains on the bed.

Now, the bed that once held Takada was empty, occupied only by the hollow presence of the cold wind blowing through. Erin froze, her heartbeat pounding in her chest. Her eyes widened, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Takada… was gone. Only faint traces of his presence remained, swallowed by the unknown fate awaiting them all.

"Nerd..?"

-To Be Continued..