No More Thug Life, I’m Playing Music

Episode 008. On the Way to School (2)

In life, there are times when you find yourself walking through a long, dark tunnel—a tunnel so devoid of light that it feels like you’ll never see the sun again.

Baek Junsoo felt trapped in such a tunnel.
No matter how much he walked, the exit remained unseen.
The entrance he had once come through was long gone.

Caught in darkness after endless time spent enduring, Baek Junsoo came to a conclusion.
If he couldn’t leave the tunnel alive,
then perhaps he could leave it by dying.

“I’ll go too…”

As his tunnel descended into complete darkness, light seeped in from somewhere.
Not from an entrance or an exit, but from the ceiling.

Someone had broken through the top of the tunnel.

A hand reached in, grabbing hold of him and pulling him out.

“Baek Junsoo! You little bastard! What the hell are you doing!”

Jung Seojoon dragged Baek Junsoo out of the bathtub filled with black water.
As Junsoo drifted in and out of consciousness, Seojoon breathed life back into him.

“Open your eyes! I said, open them!”

…..

“Yes, sir. Don’t worry. I’ll continue with the plan.”

Choi Pilwook ended the call.
Clicking his tongue in irritation, he spat on the ground, cursing the unknown bastard who had thrown a wrench into his plans.

“What? A celebrity? Ha… Don’t tell me that punk is screwing around now and refusing to comply?”

Seething with anger, he stepped out of the bathroom.
The hallway was in chaos.
Students were running in the same direction, urgency on their faces.

Grabbing a passing boy by the scruff of his neck, Pilwook growled, “Hey.”

“C-Choi Pilwook!”

“What’s going on?”

“W-Well…”

After hearing the situation, Pilwook was left stunned.
It was that transfer student again.

He’d ignored the kid, thinking he wasn’t worth his time, but now this?
This wasn’t just an annoyance—it felt like a challenge to his authority.

He couldn’t let it slide any longer.

“Move!”

Pilwook stomped up the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing.
Students blocking the path to the rooftop stepped aside, heads bowed as they made way for their “king.”

Breathing heavily, Pilwook reached the top of the stairs and stepped through the wide-open door to the rooftop.

“Jung Seojoon! You little son of a—”

His voice caught in his throat as he froze at the sight before him.

What… what is this?

The rooftop was packed with students.

At the center of the crowd, Pilwook’s own crew was kneeling in a circle, heads bowed and pressed together.

Sixteen of them, completely covered in paint from head to toe.
Mixed with the blood oozing from their injuries, they looked like drenched rats pulled from a filthy gutter.

“Pi… Pilwook… Please save us…”
“Let us go… We didn’t mean it… Baek Junsoo, you told us to do it, didn’t you…”

A few of them sobbed as they begged for their lives.

At the same time, all the eyes on the rooftop shifted to Choi Pilwook.

“…”

A chill ran down Pilwook’s spine.

The students’ gazes carried a strange sense of anticipation.
It was as if they were hoping he’d end up like the others.

“Why the hell are you all staring at me like that?”

Pilwook raised his voice, trying to mask his unease.

“Don’t you dare look at me! You want to die?”

The spectators avoided his eyes, their gazes drifting elsewhere.
All of them turned to one place.

Standing behind the kneeling students was Jung Seojoon.

The anticipation in their eyes grew stronger, but this time, it was different.

Unlike the fear they showed Pilwook, their stares at Seojoon held something else entirely.

Grit.
Pilwook clenched his teeth.

“Jung Seojoon…”

He locked eyes with Seojoon’s calm, indifferent gaze.

The brief moment of eye contact ended when Seojoon spoke first.

“It’s your turn now.”

“What? My turn? You think I’m just some weak punk to mess with?”

Despite his aggressive words, Pilwook felt a creeping tension.

The reason was Seojoon’s appearance.

His clothes were stained with blood, and the bandages wrapped around his hands were soaked through.
But the most unnerving part was his expression.

No emotion.

It was as if he was looking at a stray dog, utterly unbothered by the situation.

“You… what the hell are you?”

Pilwook muttered to himself, not expecting an answer, but Seojoon replied anyway.

“Laxative.”

“What?”

“A laxative to flush out waste like you.”

“You son of a—!”

Enraged by the deadpan insult, Pilwook snapped.

He clenched his fists and charged at Seojoon.

“Move! Move!”

His own gang, caught between the two, scrambled out of the way, throwing themselves to the ground to avoid getting caught in the clash.

“Die!”

Choi Pilwook pulled his shoulder back, throwing his weight into a punch.

The momentum of his massive frame, combined with the force of his charge, made the attack devastating.

Spectators flinched at the sheer speed and power behind the swing. It didn’t seem humanly possible.
Everyone believed Jung Seojoon’s face would be obliterated in an instant.

Thwack!
A loud impact rang out.

The rooftop fell into silence.

The onlookers froze, their mouths agape as they stared at the scene unfolding before them, unable to process what had just happened.

“…Ugh…”

The groan came from Choi Pilwook.

His head tilted back, his trembling hand reached toward his face before he collapsed backward with a loud thud.

It had all happened in the blink of an eye.

While most of the spectators hadn’t caught the exact sequence of events, they clearly saw the outcome:
Jung Seojoon had countered with a perfectly timed uppercut, striking Pilwook’s chin from below.

“Sh-Shit…”

Lying on the ground, Pilwook cursed, grinding his teeth as he struggled to his feet.

Regaining his composure, he replayed the moment in his mind.

Before the punch landed, Seojoon had turned his head to dodge Pilwook’s fist and immediately ducked to deliver the uppercut.

It was boxing.

Pilwook adjusted his stance, realizing something reassuring—while Seojoon’s speed was extraordinary, the power behind his punches wasn’t overwhelming.

I can win this…

Pilwook shifted his strategy, deciding to play to his strengths.
If he could take the fight to the ground, there was no way he’d lose.

With his mind made up, he charged forward, arms raised like a bear preparing to maul its prey.

“Ahh!”

The spectators, seeing Pilwook’s size and brute force, doubted Seojoon could counter this time.

But they didn’t know the depth of experience embedded in Seojoon’s movements.

With a swift step, Seojoon easily sidestepped the charge and, without pause, delivered rapid punches to Pilwook’s exposed ribs.

Not just once—multiple times in quick succession.

Thwack! Thwack!

Seojoon moved like a slippery eel, avoiding Pilwook’s advances while landing hit after hit.
He struck with the precision of a drummer, each blow landing in rhythm.

“Argh!”

Pilwook groaned in pain.

Though he tried to endure, his body eventually betrayed him. His legs gave out, and he dropped to one knee.

At that moment, Seojoon stopped his assault and took a step back to catch his breath.

“You… what the hell are you…”

Pilwook’s voice was hoarse, his words labored.

The punches hadn’t been especially powerful, but each one had struck a vital spot.

And not a single one of Pilwook’s own attacks had connected, making it feel like he was fighting a phantom.

Despair crept over him.

If fighting was a skill, then Seojoon was a prodigy—a genius whose talent felt insurmountable.

He’s insane…
Incredible…

The spectators gawked at Seojoon, mouths agape.

Given the stark difference in size between the two, Seojoon’s skill stood out even more.

Some students, feeling like they were witnessing the climax of an action movie, captured the scene on their phones.

“Let’s end this,” Seojoon said coldly.

“Wait, hold on… I-I don’t even know why you’re doing this. Let’s talk, alright? I’ll give you whatever you want…”

Pilwook extended a hand, his expression desperate as he admitted defeat.

“There’s no need to escalate things further… Next year, I’m starting work at JS Group. You’ve heard of the infamous Juseongpa, right? If you want, I can introduce you… Just stop this…”

“Hah…”

Seojoon let out a bitter laugh. Hearing his old organization’s name from Pilwook’s mouth was absurd.

He had sacrificed his youth to bring them legitimacy, and now scum like Pilwook were aligning themselves with the name.

Disgust welled up inside him, and the long-suppressed anger over betrayal and death exploded.

“You… just die.”

Seojoon propelled himself forward, channeling all his strength into a kick aimed at Pilwook’s face.

Crunch!

Pilwook collapsed, unconscious before he could even scream.

Seojoon climbed onto his fallen body, raining punches down in a fit of unrestrained fury.

Thud! Thud!

From the back of the crowd, shouts from teachers rang out.

“Hey! Why aren’t you kids moving?!”
“Are you all insane?!”

But the students blocked their path, arms crossed and unmoving.

The ones who had turned a blind eye to Pilwook’s tyranny now refused to let the teachers intervene.

Moments later, someone broke through the barricade, climbing over the students’ shoulders and backs.

It was Choo Minji.

“Hey! Jung Seojoon! Are you out of your mind?!”

She ran toward him, throwing her arms around him from behind and dragging them both to the ground.

Finally, Jung Seojoon got off Choi Pilwook’s unconscious body.

Choo Minji, lying on the ground with Seojoon’s face cradled in her arms, shouted at the surrounding students.

“That guy could’ve died!”

She whipped her head toward the onlookers, her voice cutting through the stunned silence.

“And you! What are you doing just standing there, filming this?!”

Her eyes locked with Kim Bom’s, who was among the crowd.

“Being a bystander is just as bad, you crazy bitch!”

…..

A change in appearance doesn’t alter the essence of a person.

It’s true.

I’m beyond saving.

I thought I’d grown up, thought I’d become an adult, but in the end, I’m not much different from the person I was at eighteen.

I used my fists again.

Even though I’d resolved to live differently, I found myself making the same mistakes.

But I don’t regret it.

I treated an animal like an animal.
I gave trash the treatment it deserved.

And if there’s one difference between the violence I used in the past and now, it’s this:
This time, I didn’t act for myself.

I acted for my family.

And there’s one more thing.

Unlike the old me, I now have people who apologize on my behalf.

“I’m so sorry… truly sorry.”
“This is all my fault… I sincerely apologize.”

My parents, Jung Sangho and Kang Jungsook, stood before the school violence committee, bowing their heads over and over in apology.

“Please, that’s enough,” I said, but they didn’t stop.

They kept apologizing to the committee members: the principal, several teachers, the injured students wrapped in bandages, their parents, and their lawyers.

They pleaded with them to reconsider my expulsion, to give a “promising young man” another chance.

As for me, I stood rigid, my head held high, saying nothing.

I’d done nothing wrong.

“I just cleaned up the trash,” I said firmly.

This statement drew an eruption of anger.

People yelled, calling me a thug, saying I belonged in jail.
They pointed fingers and hurled insults, just as they had in the past.

But this time, there was one crucial difference:

Though I may have lost my former power, I still had my experience.
I hadn’t climbed the ranks in my old life with my fists alone.

“Hmm.”

Ignoring the shouts, I spoke calmly.

“Begin.”

At my cue, a video began playing on the conference room screen.

It showed Choi Pilwook and his gang—the so-called “victims” in this room.

The footage documented their actions over time.

“Die, you little bastard!”
“From today, you’re my Pikachu! Thunderbolt attack!”
“Say it—‘yes, sir!’ Louder!”
“I told you to bring me 100,000 won. Do I look like a joke to you? Take your pants off.”
“Hey! Bring me everyone who ate lunch with this punk today!”

It was bullying so heinous it couldn’t be brushed off as a joke.

Violence.
Humiliation.
Every vile act they’d committed was displayed unfiltered in the video.

The footage came from various sources:
Videos secretly filmed by Park Jigeun, a former member of their gang.
Clips collected by bystanders who had been too afraid to act but not too afraid to record.
And surveillance cameras—mechanical eyes placed all over the school.

“…”
“Hah…”

The people who had been so vocal moments ago fell silent.

The parents of the injured students stared at the screen in shock, horrified by the unedited display of their children’s behavior.

When the video ended, the silence was broken by the sound of the conference room door opening.

Several people entered:

An elderly man with a commanding presence.
Lawyers in sharp suits, their badges gleaming.

The principal and teachers, who had been indifferent before, jumped to their feet.

“C-chairman!”

The elderly man at the front was the chairman of the Poonggwang Foundation.

And behind him, just visible through the door, was a middle-aged woman: Professor Han from Korea University’s piano department.

She was also the wife of the head of one of the most prestigious law firms in the country.

That’s right.

I hadn’t just relied on my fists.

“From this moment, we will begin the school violence committee hearing regarding Choi Pilwook and the other eleven involved.”

At the chairman’s words, I stepped down from the defendant’s seat.

I walked over to my new parents, Jung Sangho and Kang Jungsook.

“Let’s go.”

“Seojoon…”
“You…”

A thug who only knows how to throw punches will starve.

You need cunning, strategy, and connections to survive. That’s how I’d lived my life before.

“Professor Han is waiting for us.”

“Why is she…?”

My methods can be applied to any situation.

“I agreed to become her student again in exchange for her help with this matter.”