Eighteen’s Bed

It was a good thing my right arm was injured. If it had been fine, I probably would’ve swung recklessly and ended up losing. Go Yohan had already helped me plenty—he was the one who beat Han Junwoo to the ground with nothing but his knees and feet.

I braced myself against the stomping feet hammering my back and drove my knee straight into Hong Huijun’s face.

My calves scraped against the ground. The dirt-covered fabric of my pants tore at the friction, fraying at the edges. But there was no room in my mind to care about that.

"You pathetic little—! Let go, you fucking bastard—!"

I couldn’t hear a thing anymore. The only thing left inside me was pure venom. A single, unshakable resolve—I would never sink beneath these bastards. That determination was the only thing keeping me going.

I bent my body as low as possible to shield my face, but I couldn’t stop the kicks landing on my temple, on my ear. All I could do was tighten my grip on Hong Huijun’s head and destroy his face with my knee.

"You—fucking—"

His face was practically buried in the dirt. His open mouth filled with dust.

That’s what you get for talking too much.

Ignoring his muffled protests, I pressed his head harder into the ground. His legs thrashed, kicking at nothing.

And then, all at once, the world tilted.

"Enough! Stop it! What the hell are you guys doing?!"

Someone grabbed me under the arms and yanked me backward.

Fuck. Is it over?

I barely had time to process before I caught a glimpse of a face.

P.E. teacher.

Of all the people to see last, it had to be him. Just my fucking luck.

Then, everything went dark.

And my body ached like hell.

When I opened my eyes again, I had no memory of what happened in between.

The sight in front of me wasn’t my school. Instead, I was staring at a plain white ceiling.

Slowly, I turned my head. My whole body felt like my bones had been shattered and pieced back together.@@novelbin@@

A nightstand. An IV drip.

It was obvious.

A hospital.

And in that moment, another realization hit me.

Kang Jun, nineteen years old, had officially fucked up his life.

"…Fucking hell."

The room was dead silent. It was a private room.

They wouldn’t have given this to just anyone.

Which meant my parents had already been contacted.

Most likely, one of their secretaries had handled everything.

Horrifying.

So it finally happened. They found out.

5 months and 13 days.