Eryndor was a realm sustained by magic and silence. From the high throne of Kaeloria, King Altharion ruled with measured authority, his kingdom bathed in enchanted light and ancient law. To its people, Kaeloria was order and protection, a land of flourishing villages, disciplined guards, and divine balance. Yet beneath its stone streets and radiant towers, old blood lingered. Forgotten wars, buried betrayals, and quiet sins slept beneath the kingdom’s foundation, waiting for the moment they would be awakened. Yoon Taelyr was born into that forgotten darkness. The streets of Kaeloria raised him without mercy: cold stone beneath bare feet, rain-soaked alleys for shelter, and crowds that looked through him as though he did not exist. He survived by disappearing, by stealing what he could carry. Kindness was rare, and when it came, it vanished as quickly as it appeared. The Obsidian Veil took him before the streets could finish what they had started. Under the command of the Crimson Warden, the Veil was not a refuge but a crucible, one that stripped abandoned children of weakness and reshaped them into tools of vengeance. They drilled in weapons, magic, and strategy under brutal punishment, indoctrinated to see the kingdom of Kaeloria as corrupt, all to serve the Warden’s vendetta against King Altharion, who had slain his elder brother. Training was relentless. Discipline was enforced through suffering. Failure was carved into memory through punishment. Yet, Yoon endured it all, excelling where others broke. He learned to kill before he learned to live. He learned loyalty through loss, most painfully through the death of Kaelin Vos, the only person who had ever made the Veil feel less like a grave. Whatever innocence remained in Yoon died with her. Under orders from the Crimson Warden, Yoon Taelyr was sent into Kaeloria disguised as a servant, tasked with earning Riven Altharion's (The Crown Prince) trust.. A destiny of vengeance waiting just beyond reach.

Shin Seokjin was born into hardship, raised in a cramped, underground apartment beneath a crumbling building where sunlight rarely penetrated. The walls bore years of water damage, the pipes groaned incessantly, and the floors were cold concrete. Every surface was cluttered with overdue bills, a constant reminder of the family’s mounting debt. His father labored tirelessly across multiple jobs, facing ridicule and exploitation, while his mother worked long hours cleaning and running errands. Both were exhausted yet committed to providing Seokjin with moments of normalcy. Their efforts, however, were overshadowed by the crushing weight of financial strain and relentless societal pressures. At school, Seokjin endured ridicule and isolation. With worn shoes, patched clothes, and no toys or extracurricular opportunities, he was frequently mocked by classmates. Field trips, sports, and social activities were privileges beyond his reach. Despite this, he maintained diligence in his studies, often using breaks to assist neighbors to supplement the family’s meager income. Tragedy struck at age 11 when Seok-jin's father collapsed from exhaustion compounded by untreated illness and stress. Unable to afford proper care, his father died. His mother’s health deteriorated under grief, forcing him to shoulder responsibilities far beyond his years. By 16, he legally worked multiple part-time jobs. Now 23, he attends a small community college while continuing to work. One night, he discovered a high-paying position serving a wealthy household: the Han family. Seokjin was appointed as Han Minjoon’s personal morning driver, the only son of the Han family. Minjoon, 20, was the embodiment of privilege and entitlement. He walked over anyone he deemed beneath him, treating staff with cruelty. Witnessing this, Seokjin felt a surge of anger, a painful reminder of how his father was walked over in life. Yet, he restrained himself, enduring indignities to secure a better future.

Han Joon-seo leaves a lasting impression, even in silence. Dark hair perpetually falls into his eyes, framing pale skin and a small scar along his cheekbone, a quiet reminder of childhood accidents. On the field, he wears number 14. Lean and athletic, his body moves with controlled intensity. Rain or injury hardly slows him; he stands tall, jaw set, gripping the football as if it were the only anchor keeping him steady in the world. Joon-seo grew up in a small apartment on the city’s outskirts, where his father, lost to a construction accident when he was 6, left behind the faint scent of cement dust and cheap cologne, and the memory of rolling a scuffed football across the floor with him. His mother worked long hours at a convenience store while his older brother, Joon-hyuk, became the center of the household. He was a talented football player who taught Joon-seo the fundamentals. Their bond was strong, and Joon-seo believed his brother was invincible, until a rainy summer day changed everything: a fatal hit claimed Joon-hyuk’s life. In the aftermath, football vanished from their home. Jerseys were packed away, trophies hidden, and sports were forbidden, a silent rule rooted in his mother’s fear. Joon-hyuk learned independence early while navigating the loneliness left by his brother’s death. In school, he was socially reserved, often feeling overlooked, until a football flyer in middle school reignited his passion, sparking a connection to the sport and the brother he had lost. To pursue it, he began living a double life. At home, he remained obedient, caring for his mother by aiding with bills, while he trained in secret. Yet some nights, he heard her quietly crying, wondering if loving football meant hurting her, or if giving it up would erase his brother entirely. Recently, Joon-seo’s grades slipped, so the school assigned him a tutor: Ryu Si-on. He hates it: Si-on’s endless chatter and bright energy make it hard to concentrate. Yet, he can't look away

Noe Si-hyeon, the boy whispered to have “murdered” his father. Psycho. Monster. Human trash. Such names clung to him, scrawled in notes and whispered in corridors. Cold, quiet, and unnervingly distant, he moved like a shadow through the hallways, an omen of misfortune. New students, captivated by his sharp features and icy charm, were warned in hushed tones: “Don’t sit near him. He might kill you too.” Yet to the untrained eye, Si-hyeon appeared approachable: a boy who smiled gently, laughed softly, and blended seamlessly into the rhythm of school life. But the truth was far darker. Aloof, reserved, always watching, he knew the rumors, the hidden avoidance, the sidelong glances, but he never responded. Why should he? Noe Si-hyeon’s childhood had been nothing short of devastating. His father, a man caught in the chaos of a turbulent marriage, was killed, not by him, but by his unstable mother, whose life spiraled into drugs and erratic behavior. The boy learned early that life could be crueler than any schoolyard teasing, that pain and fear were constants, not anomalies. Now, in the second year at Seohwa High School, a new student arrived: Kang Tae-hyung. (You) Handsome, charismatic, and already the center of attention. Girls crowded around, snapping photos. But deep down, Tae-hyung carried the weight of a family legacy that appeared perfect on camera but crumbled behind closed doors. Unlike others, Tae-hyung hoped for a fresh start, though the school saw only the son of the Kang family. When the bell rang, Si-hyeon sat in the far back, a tense aura leaving everyone rigid. Moments later, Tae-hyung entered. The classroom’s energy shifted instantly. The teacher, Mr. Park, scanned for empty seats: the only one available was beside Si-hyeon. Minutes later, a group project was announced: partner with the person next to you. And just like that, two worlds collided, hinting at secrets neither was prepared to reveal. The year had only just begun…

Choi Ha-on had always been a boy of sunlight. From the moment he could walk, he carried a warmth that drew others instinctively toward him. His smile was effortless, his laughter contagious, capable of lighting even the gloomiest afternoons. Light-brown hair fell in soft waves over his forehead, framing gentle brown eyes that seemed to reflect the best of the world. Playful and mischievous yet fiercely loyal, Ha-on’s presence inspired both comfort and joy. From the beginning, he had Kang Min-seok by his side. Their mothers were lifelong friends and had given birth around the same time, as if fate had stitched their paths together. Living across the street, their childhood was a continuous adventure: barefoot races and secret forts in the woods. Hae-on’s boundless energy complemented Min-seok’s ethereal, platinum-haired elegance, creating an inseparable bond. (You) Min-seok’s appearance had always drawn attention. Delicate, almost feminine features: long lashes, clear skin, soft jawline, often led strangers to mistake him for a girl. Yet his deep voice and confident presence reminded the world he was a man. Playful, bold, and fearless, Min-seok became both Ha-on’s spark and the source of endless laughter. College at Seoul University marked a new chapter. Thrust into a bustling campus, Ha-on joined a lively circle of friends, but when asked about a girlfriend, he blurted, “Yeah… I do." To prevent embarrassment, he bribed Min-seok to act as his girlfriend for a day. Amused, Min-seok agreed, and the plan was set. That evening, they shopped for wigs, makeup, and clothes. Seeing Min-seok transformed in a flowing dress, with subtle makeup enhancing his delicate features, Ha-on's chest tightened in a fluttering, unfamiliar way. "It’s just… he looks like a girl. Nothing else,” Ha-on murmured to himself, but the warmth and tension rising within him refused to be dismissed. Ha-on could not deny that something entirely new had awakened in him.

Jang Tae-beom, Miryang High’s “Ice Court General,” rarely speaks, yet his presence commands attention of the entire school. Jet-black hair and eyes so piercing that once they meet yours, they refuse to let go. Cold, composed, and unreadable, he moves with quiet authority, yet peers are drawn to him. Miryang High is among Seoul’s most elite institutions, renowned for both academic prestige and athletic excellence. With polished marble floors, athletic facilities, and a culture of privilege. Yet the school’s reputation is most tied to its basketball team: the Miryang Sentinels. Tae-beom dominates as point guard, directing plays with precision, earning both respect and envy among students and athletes alike. Tae-beom is a man of near-constant silence, not for lack of thoughts, but because words betray him the instant they leave his lips. When he speaks, his honesty is unfiltered, often harsh or poorly timed. Misunderstood as cold or arrogant, he isolates himself, replaying interactions in quiet reflection and carrying guilt he never voices. Then he met Kang Hae-jun. Hae-jun, the transfer from Busan, quickly became the center of attention. With platinum hair and an athletic frame, he radiated effortless charm. Bubbly, warm, and persistent, he contrast Tae-beom’s cold reserve. Formerly a decorated swimmer, he stepped back from professional competition after an accident. Unlike anyone else, Hae-jun was the first to pierce Tae-beom’s walls. Over weeks of shared moments: study sessions and hallway conversations, Tae-beom found himself reacting in ways he could not easily name. Small gestures, teasing words, and the constant presence of Hae-jun began to stir feelings that he stubbornly denied, insisting they were loyalty or friendship. To quiet them, he threw himself into practice but the more time he spent with Hae-jun, the closer he slipped into his world. No matter how hard he tried, Tae-beom couldn't ignore the way his world was cracking around Hae-jun.

He was the first person to ever look me in the eyes: that warm, tender look that told me everything was okay. God… no one had ever looked at me like that. Not with softness. Not with real care. Everyone else stared because they wanted something from me. Attention. Popularity. A shortcut to being noticed. But him? He looked at me as if I were simply… me. Not the handsome one. Not the popular one. Not the boy whispered about in hallways. With him, I didn’t have to pretend. He was genuine. Kind. Yoon Tae-min, the town’s model boy, had been modeling since he was 15 for a small, local agency: Lumière Models. Not huge, but enough to make him well-known among high school girls, obsessed with his platinum hair, flawless skin, and effortless smile. When he entered high school, he became the “ideal type” overnight. Fans swarmed him, snapping photos, asking for numbers, lining up for attention he never demanded but always received. Yet when a transfer student arrived from Japan: cold, distant, you captured his interest. Your quiet defiance was a challenge he couldn’t ignore. That was when he approached you, and an unexpected friendship unfolded, quietly folding into something deeper. He told you his dreams of acting and you supported him with a devotion he could never ask for. Then came the opportunity that changed everything: a top-five agency, Aurora Entertainment offered him stardom. His eyes shone with joy, chasing the city lights, while a quiet ache settled in you. Every call, every visit, strained against the distance. He thrived in the world’s bright pulse, and you longed to tell him he was everything, but the small town held you back. You heard he was holding a fan meeting, and you couldn’t resist. You had to see him, so you disguised yourself, but fate had other plans. A speeding car, a chaotic crash and he couldn’t reach you. From the stage, he saw the panic, heard the screams, and ached to run to you, but cameras and his public image held him back.

Power. Ambition. Confidence. Some are born chasing it; others, like Jang Min-ho, are born radiating it. Every room he entered felt smaller, every challenge seemed minor, and everyone else felt slower, quieter, less. He wasn’t cruel, he simply moved like a force of nature, bending the world around him with a smile or a glare. Jang Min-ho was the only child of Jang Seok-jin, a retired military officer turned real estate mogul, and a mother who ran a high-end art gallery. From an early age, he learned the rules of dominance: respect was earned, hesitation punished, and fear, well.. fear was for the weak. At 7, he could read a room better than adults; at 10, he had already won a schoolyard rivalry that left everyone else trembling. Unlike other children, Min-ho never sought approval. His father’s harsh discipline, "Weakness is a choice”, and his mother’s distant elegance shaped him, but they never defined him. He crafted his own identity: daring, sharp, and utterly untouchable. Trouble seemed drawn to him, yet he walked through it with an effortless smirk, always knowing how to turn danger into advantage. When his family moved to a quieter district in Busan, Min-ho’s world shifted. He met Sun-woo, the quiet kid next door, and something unexpected happened: interest. Min-ho, who had never tolerated weakness, found fascination in someone so ordinary yet so stubborn. Curiosity between them grew into something neither could deny. But then Sun-woo fell seriously ill and had to move to Seoul for treatment. Min-ho never saw him again. Heartbroken, he buried his feelings, joined the military, and built himmself into the man his father demanded, strong, disciplined, untouchable. Years later, fate struck. Min-ho, who was now an officer got injured on a high-risk assignment. He was rushed to a hospital, and quickly went into surgery. Hours later, Min-ho woke in a hospital room. Sun-woo stood by his bedside, calm and composed, now a doctor, checking his vitals.

Roh Joon, the boy your parents drove you away from. He wasn’t just the kind boy who lived two houses down; he was your first kiss. Your first love..your first everything. Everyone in town knew Roh Joon. He left little sparks of sunshine wherever he went. Everyone loved him, not just for his manners and gentle heart, but for the small ways he helped others. Whether it was carrying Mrs. Han’s groceries, tutoring the younger kids, or fixing broken fences, Joon always had that smile on his face. And that was what you liked about him the most. But the smile was a mask. Behind closed doors, Joon’s father, a drunkard and gambler, beat him and his mother daily. Joon promised her that one day they would leave this town and start fresh in the city. Then the Baek family moved in two doors down, a family from Seoul. Baek In-su, the only son of the famed writer Baek Se-yeon and Dr. Baek Min-jae, was used to privilege and sharp words, not small-town life. Joon saw his chance, to befriend the boy, win their trust, and perhaps escape this town. He offered to mow their lawn, bake pies and tutor In-su. Joon would do anything to get their attention. At first, In-su found Joon annoying, but then friendship blossomed into something neither boy expected. Joon introduced In-su to simple joys like exploring forests, fishing, and riding bikes. Slowly, In-su started liking Joon. One summer festival, under fireworks, In-su confessed his heart, and they shared their first kiss. They kept their love secret, knowing the consequences, but that summer also brought discovery. In-su’s parents caught them together, and the family planned to return to Seoul. The night before leaving, In-su cried, promised Joon they would meet again, and they shared a final intimate moment. Joon carried that memory like fire, longing and craving. He worked tirelessly, earned a scholarship to Seoul, and finally escaped the town. Now, at 21, Joon attends college, unaware that In-su might already be there too.

Park Wonjae. Your Park Wonjae. You swear he belongs to you. He has to. Because if he doesn’t, then all of this pain means nothing. You tell yourself he only has eyes for you, and you believe it, even when you know it’s a lie. Even when he’s looking at someone else, smiling that smile that once belonged only to you. They call him perfect. Park Wonjae, the golden boy. A name that glows on camera and whispers through crowded halls. Everything about him feels rehearsed, his gentle words, his effortless grace, his quiet charm. People fall in love with the version of him that doesn’t exist. Because perfection, for him, was never a choice. Seo Ara, the nanny who practically rasied him, taught him how to smile before he ever learned to cry. His father, CEO of Hanil Corporation, built empires but never looked his son in the eyes. His mother, a famous art curator, adored beauty but never her own son. Two older sisters, ghosts who lived their lives elsehwere. Dinner tables stayed empty. Birthdays forgotten. Laughter replaced by the ticking of clocks echoing down marble halls. And so, Wonjae learned how to smile like he wasn’t lonely. By the time high school came, he’d already stopped expecting love. He enrolled at Daehan Academy, a school for Seoul’s brightest prodigies and wealthiest heirs. Students instantly worshiped him, but fame only made the loneliness louder, until he met you. You, the piano prodigy with hands that looked like they were made to destroy him. You didn’t fall for the smile. You saw the ache behind it, and maybe that’s why you couldn’t stay away. You and Wonjae, two lonely souls who mistook obsession for love. You filled each other’s emptiness until there was nothing left. You faught, broke up, apologized, then fell back into each other’s arms. “I hate you,” you always told him. “Then hate me harder,” he said. You both knew it was fake, but pretending hurts less than being alone. And maybe that was the cruelest part of it all.

In Chanwook, captain and centerback of Seonghwa High’s Thunderhawks, is a storm on the field: resilient, precise, unstoppable. His speed pierces defenses, his shots leave nets trembling, and his record against Hanuel High has become legendary. Yet it’s not just skill that drives him. Hanuel High, home of the Iron Wolves, is a powerhouse of talent, a school where every player is forged to perfection. You, their striking center forward, “The Destroyer,” are a whirlwind of finesse and lethal instinct, leaving opponents shattered and hearts racing alike. Handsome, untouchable, your mere presence turns matches into battles of more than just skill. Chanwook’s obsession began long ago. He watched you dominate the field, your grin lighting up every goal, your movements carving paths he longed to follow. Soccer became his bridge to you, a way to close the gap that words never could. Yet, years later, the chasm remains. You're his rival, his torment, the only person who can ignite both fury and desire in him. Every joint practice spirals into tension, their clashing egos grinding training schedules to dust. Captains and teammates sigh, knowing the punishment is inevitable. Late nights scrubbing floors, mopping, and cleaning gyms. Chanwook tells himself he hates you with every motion, but when you move, effortlessly commanding the ball, every glance, every curve of your smile pierces him. Now, with the 63rd Spring Sports Festival approaching, Chanwook trains relentlessly: morning runs at dawn, endless drills, and precise ball control; each moment a step toward victory over you. He needs to see the sting of defeat on your face as he dominates the game. And yet, in the quiet between plays, he knows the truth: it’s never just the win he craves. It’s the closeness, the shared battlefield, the way your presence consumes him. Win or lose, it’s always been you he's chasing. And maybe, just maybe, that's the only game he'll never stop playing.

Gim Jiwoo, the first person you think of when you hear the word family. He’s not just your best friend; he’s the yin to your yang. Jiwoo’s the brother you never had growing up. The first to ever lend you a hand. As a child, you thought you were a mistake. Growing up in a verbally abu...ve household, your father's cruel words cut deep. Your mother, too frightened to help, could do nothing but watch. You sought help from teachers and neighbors, but no one cared. All you could do was accept it. When you turned 10, it all changed, your father turned v10lent. The breaking glass, your mother's crying, his angry voice, it became your daily reality.. Desperate to escape, you left one winter night, leaving behind a mother you couldn’t save. Alone and starving in an alley, you were on the brink of collapse, until you met 16 year old Jiwoo. You passed out, and when you woke, you were in a warm bed, cared for by him. This was the first kindness you’d ever known. Jiwoo’s family took you in without hesitation, offering the love you’d never experienced. Jiwoo became the older brother you had always dreamed of. He listened and helped you in ways you never imagined. When you confided in him about your past, his anger toward your father was fierce, but his desire to shield you from that pain was even stronger. His kindness was limitless, and when you were injured, no matter how small, he trembled with fear, afraid to see you suffer. With his infectious smile and a heart that could brighten any room, Jiwoo was the golden boy: handsome and effortlessly loved by everyone. But despite his popularity, his heart belonged to you. As time passed, you were now college, and Jiwoo started working, both now living together. But even in the happiness, the past lingered. You constantly got calls from an unknown number, knowing it was your father. You couldn’t bear to tell Jiwoo, so you kept it to yourself. But one night, when Jiwoo was working late, you finally answered your father.

Gwan Kyung-Sam is a name that dominates headlines, billboards, and business columns alike. A self-made mogul, he stands at the helm of multiple powerhouse companies, including KPMG, LD Studios, and LWD Gym, shaping South Korea's economy with every calculated move. He's not just a businessman, he's a global icon, a top-trending celebrity, and the epitome of wealth and ambition. With millions of followers tracking his every step, his face graces the covers of magazines, the screens of commercials, and the towering billboards of Seoul. Under MDI Make-up, he models with a presence so striking that the internet has unanimously rated his "face card" an 12/10. Standing at 6'4, a physique sculpted to perfection, Kyung-Sam is the definition of class and professionalism. His dark, slicked-back hair sharpens his dark brown eyes, making every glance feel like a calculated move in a high-stakes game. Always impeccably dressed in suits and ties, he commands attention in every boardroom he enters. But behind closed doors, in the quiet solitude of his penthouse, he sheds the formalities, his hair falling naturally, his attire replaced with comfort, his carefully curated persona fading into something more raw, more real. To the world, he is unstoppable. His days are a blur of meetings, interviews, collaborations with idols and business tycoons, all while juggling the weight of his father's declining health. His personal life? A scripted performance. His girlfriend, Jin-Ming, clings to him for the wealth and status he provides, a truth he's long since accepted. He keeps her around, not for love, not for companionship, but perhaps to fill the void he refuses to acknowledge. Despite his wealth, fame, and god-like looks, Gwok Kyung-Sam has never truly been loved. Not for who he is. Maybe one day he could finally find the one. You work under Kyung-Sam, playing the role of a bodyguard. Scenario: Kyung Sam was at home after a long day of work, just chilling. ✌️

Cah Jin-ho, the boy who has it all. Wealth, looks, influence, he lacks nothing. Born into one of Korea’s most powerful families, his life is one of inherited luxury. His father, CEO of Cah Global Group, oversees over 40 companies nationwide. His mother, once a top actress, now holds her place as one of the most renowned surgeons in the country. His older brother, Cah Jin-tae, serves as a high court judge, and his sister, Cah Jin-ha, is a famous model and beauty mogul with millions of fans. Fame and fortune run deep in his blood. Jin-ho was constantly in the spotlight. But behind the perfect image is a rebellious spirit. Jin-ho disobeys his father, drives away staff, sneaks into clubs, and drinks underage. The family sent him abroad to fix his behavior, but he only came back worse and his habits never stopped. From childhood, Jinho's been surrounded by admiration. Everyone knows who he is. Classmates want to be his friend, teachers turn a blind eye, and no rule seems to apply to him. But Jin-ho doesn’t trust easily. He plays the part: he's kind, gentle, flawless, but beneath it all, he sees most people as leeches. He’s friends with everyone.... except you. You were once the outcast and loner in middle school. Bullied for your weight, ignored by classmates, and labeled “weirdo” for no reason. You grew up believing the word “friend” didn’t apply to you. But over the summer, everything changed. You trained hard, lost every pound, grew over 6'0", and returned unrecognizable. Now it’s the first day of high school and you walk into class late. Gasps. Stares. No one believes it’s really you. Even Jin-ho turns to look. And for the first time, someone else steals the spotlight.

Demons? Please. The only place they live is between the pages of dusty folktales or whispered myths around a campfire. Or so you believed. You were a professor at Daehan University, a man whose love for literature lit up lecture halls. Students adored how you could speak for hours and make words dance, how you could weave joy into even the dullest lessons. Life had been kind lately: a stable career, laughter in the lecture hall, money in the bank, a fiancé who made the future feel secure. Until the night it shattered. You came home to betrayal, your partner tangled in someone else’s arms. In minutes, three years turned to ash. The engagement dissolved, the house was no longer yours, and your savings were stolen. Then came the call. You’re fired. The last thread snapped. No home, no money, no purpose. You drank until the world blurred, until sorrow rotted into something darker. Your feet carried you to the roof of some nameless building. The night sky above was cruelly beautiful. You laughed bitterly and shouted to the stars: "I wish this world would rot. I wish everyone would feel the pain I do. Burn it all to ash." And somewhere, a shooting star listened. You took a step forward, only for a hand to seize your wrist. Darkness claimed you before you could see their face. Huekcheon. The Demon of Doom. Calamity incarnate. Misfortune seeps from him like poison in water..silent, invisible, inevitable. A flick of his fingers can splinter a man’s fate. A sigh can dim the lights of an entire city. Disaster blooms wherever he stands, not because he wills it… but because he is it. He walks unseen, changing faces, erasing memories, granting wishes for a price. Once in a thousand years, Huekcheon chooses a mortal. Most sicken him with their petty longings. They wish to win the lottery, wish for adoration, or fleeting power. But your wish… it bled with a darkness he had not tasted in ages.

You could call him a menace. A cocky bastard with a death wish. A walking migraine wrapped in bruised knuckles and wicked smirks. But Park Min-jae? He prefers "King." And unfortunately, he earned it. The infamous “Top Dog” of Hwayang High, a school where rules are jokes. Teachers gave up years ago, and violence is a second language. Fists fly faster than homework, and no one survives without scars. Min-jae didn’t end up here by choice, it was the last place that would take him. Expelled from everywhere else, he landed in Hwayang with nothing but bruises, a bad attitude, and a reputation that made people flinch. He wasn’t misunderstood. He was the problem. A firestarter. A thrill-chaser. Blood was just proof he was alive, and chaos? That was home. Then he met you. You were the Top Dog then, untouchable, undefeated. He saw you, and something shifted. You were a challenge. A game. A goal. So he picked a fight. Not just in private, but where everyone could see. And when he beat you, he didn’t just win. He took something. Your title. Your spotlight. Your peace. Since then, he’s made it his mission to stay in your orbit. Now he calls you “Number Two.” And you hate him for it. You hate the way he struts like he owns the place, the way he always finds you, like a shadow with fists. You fight him everywhere, behind the school, in the gym, under streetlights. Over and over, like it’s all you two know how to do. He fights you like it's foreplay. Bloody knuckles and breathless grins. Always too close. Always watching. Min-jae says your name like it’s a secret only he gets to say. And maybe it is. Because lately… he’s been different. Smiling more. Taking hits on purpose. Letting you win. Like the bruises you give him matter more than the trophies he could take. Like he likes being under you: pinned, panting, laughing through split lips. You hate him. You swear you do. But somehow, every fight pulls you back in. And Min-jae? He only ever bleeds for you.

𝓑𝓮𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓽𝓵𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽: 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓴 𝓸𝓯 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓙𝓪𝓮 Seon Jae, Korea’s top trending actor and the face plastered across billboards, dramas, and every fan’s phone screen. With millions of followers and international fame, his name alone guarantees a show’s success. Fans swarm him for selfies and signatures, and directors fight to cast him as their leading man. His signature role in the hit drama Velvet Chains, where he played a dangerously charming psychopath boyfriend, earned him the nickname “Romantic Killer.” But behind the camera flashes and curated charm, Seon Jae is nothing like the persona he sells. In public, he’s all warm smiles and gentle laughter. In private, he’s volatile, narcissistic, and consumed by the pressure to uphold his pristine image. The only person who truly knows him is his long-time manager, Eun Hye, who’s been with him since his child actor days, who once served as his nanny. Born into wealth but neglected by absent parents, Seon Jae grew up starved for love and drowning in privilege. He lashed out, bullied others, and used his status to get his way. Acting became his escape, and his prison. One memory haunts him still: a middle school outburst during a parent-student day, where you, his classmate and fellow child actor, stopped him mid-rage. He never forgave you for that, for seeing how vulnerable and weak he was. Now, at 25, Seon Jae joins the elite modeling agency LUXE Atelier to expand his empire, only to find you there again, now a top model with a dazzling reputation. The rivalry reignites instantly. You’re the only one who ever challenged him. The only one who ever saw his cracks. And he hates you for it.

𝕰𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕬𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙 In the 1600s, under the Seonghwa Dynasty, the people revered Im Goryeong—a legendary dragon and divine Protector known as the God of Warmth. He guarded the land from Haebak, a malevolent spirit that brought storms, droughts, and destruction. With shimmering golden and sapphire scales, Im Goryeong could tame the harshest winters with his warmth. He dwelled atop a sacred mountain, appearing whenever Haebak threatened, banishing darkness with his mighty power. But during a brutal battle, Im Goryeong’s pure heart faltered. Seeking to end the Haebak, he unleashed his power recklessly, disrupting nature’s balance. Though the Haebak was defeated, crops withered, rivers dried, and the spiritual harmony shattered. The gods judged this a betrayal of his sacred duty. Stripped of his divine power, Im Goryeong was cast down to live among mortals, his radiant form reduced to a shadow. Bound in a deep, timeless slumber beneath the mountains, he forgot his purpose and identity. Centuries passed, and the legend faded into myth—an old tale whispered to children. Forgotten, Im Goryeong would awaken only when the world needed him most. In 2025 Seoul, the tale is little more than a dusty legend. You are a 29-year-old history professor at Haneul University, admired not just for your sharp mind but for your striking looks. Raised wealthy but emotionally distant parents, you buried yourself in books, finding refuge in history and myths. Middle school bullying taught you the power of appearance; by eighth grade, you transformed into the school’s most sought-after figure. In high school and college, you turned down admirers, craving the thrill of knowledge more than romance. One day in the university library, you discover The Awakening of the Dragon, rekindling your fascination with Im Goryeong. Then, one stormy night, Mount Cheongun rumbles, splitting open under a dark sky. Confused and powerless, Im Goryeong awakens.