Chapter 18
Spotlight (2)
“Brat?”
“God, this is hell. I’m asking to change rooms! How am I supposed to live next to some punk kid? He reeks of baby milk.”
What a pain in the ass.
Of all people, the one assigned as his roommate turned out to be half-insane.
“I’m getting my room changed right now!”
Watching the man yell and scream, No Hyeong-jin just shook his head.
“I’ll be asking for a change too.”
At that, the man froze for a moment—then smirked. Not out of apology or friendliness, but the way a predator smiles when it spots prey.
“Little punk, think you can talk back to me?”
“Shut your mouth, you psycho bastard.”
If the other side came out hostile, there was no need to act friendly. Sure, sometimes being civil could smooth things over—but from experience in his previous life, guys like this were hopeless.
“I’m not sharing a room with trash like you.”
“Good. I don’t want to live with a milk-smelling brat either.”
And that seemed to be the end of their snarling match—until…
“There are no rooms available.”
“What?”
“I said, there are no other rooms.”
“But…”
“According to the rules, once rooms are assigned, they can’t be changed.”
Ah, damn it!
No Hyeong-jin bit back a curse. Of all things, he’d gotten a lunatic for a roommate.
***
Why does my life keep getting messed up like this?
Hyeong-jin sighed on his way to class the next day. When he’d returned to the room that morning, he’d been speechless—flags. The entire place was plastered with flags: the Japanese rising sun flag, the Hinomaru. Even over his own desk.
He’d complained, but the guy ignored him completely.
“Yo, brat!”
The lunatic even followed him around, taunting him. They weren’t even in the same classes.
“F*** you, brat!”
His buddies yelled insults from their car as they drove off. Grinding his teeth, Hyeong-jin entered the lecture hall.
“Hi.”
That day, though, was different. Because of his young age, people usually kept some distance from him—but one female student approached.
“Hello.”
“I’m Hyorin. You’re that rumored genius, right?”
“Rumored genius?”
“Top of the entrance exam.”
Even though it was a cram academy, there was a tough entrance exam since so many people applied—and he’d ranked first.
“Haha.”
“But you sure drew the short straw.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Lee Jaemyung.”
“Lee Jaemyung?”
“Your roommate. You didn’t even know his name?”
Hyeong-jin shrugged. Of course he didn’t. He hadn’t even exchanged introductions with the guy.
“Well, it’s not like he’d tell you his name anyway.”
“So it’s Lee Jaemyung?”
“Yeah. We went to the same school. Total idiot, classic pro-Japanese nutcase. Dumb as rocks too.”
“Then why is he here?”
“He followed me. Annoying, but at least he’s so thickheaded that he joined a completely unrelated department, so we don’t compete. I still feel bad about it, though.”
“Ah, crap.”
A curse slipped from Hyeong-jin’s mouth. What kind of idiot like that comes to a prep academy meant for people studying for the bar exam? Just to chase a girl?
“What class would a moron like that even take?”
“The agriculture program.”
“What?”
“It’s for people who want to become farmers. You can basically buy your way in. Attendance isn’t even required. It’s always short on students anyway—it’s aimed at older folks planning to return to farming.”
“Jeez.”
It wasn’t a university—it was an academy. The law program was competitive and would kick out absentees, but a half-empty agriculture course wouldn’t. After all, it was all about the money.
I’ll just pass the exam in one go, if only to never see that jerk again.
He clenched his fists, trembling slightly.
***
“So that brat’s been making trouble?”
“Yeah. Getting all chummy with Hyorin.”
“That little punk. Maybe it’s time to teach him a lesson.”
Hyorin and Jaemyung had gone to the same high school. But it wasn’t a mutual thing—Jaemyung liked her, while she hated him. Too stupid, too thuggish. Back in school, he’d been a bully and a violent loser—human trash.
A studious girl like Hyorin could never like someone like that.
“That damn brat, trying to flirt with Hyorin?”
If Hyeong-jin had known, he’d have been speechless. Not only was Hyorin not interested in him romantically—she saw him as a kid brother at best. Their friendship came from one shared trait: they both disliked Jaemyung.
The fact that Jaemyung was angry about that was absurd.
“Let’s crush him.”
“Yeah. Once we do, he’ll crawl.”
Jaemyung still hadn’t grown out of his high school habits—scheming petty revenge.
“Pick a day. We’ll make him regret it.”
They ground their teeth together.
***
“Yaaawn.”
Hyeong-jin stretched and headed to his bed.
“Study, study, study. So damn boring.”
Life was all studying and no release, which was stressful—but he had a clear goal: passing the bar exam. For now, that focus kept him going.
It won’t be too hard anyway.
Sure, the bar exam was considered tough—for ordinary students. But for someone who’d already spent over ten years in the field in his previous life, it wasn’t much. He was just brushing up to avoid careless mistakes.
Still… that bastard hasn’t come back lately.
He frowned, glancing at the other bed. His tormentor hadn’t been returning at night.
Well, it made sense. The guy had said he didn’t want to live with a “brat,” and now that he had other friends, he was probably sleeping elsewhere.
“A pro-Japanese idiot in this day and age, huh.”
He snorted. Sure, there were plenty of pro-Japanese sympathizers in Korea—half the politicians, rumor had it. But nobody openly displayed the rising sun flag anymore. You couldn’t even hold a job like that.
“What the hell is going on in his head?”
Curiosity got the better of him. He walked toward Jaemyung’s bed. What kind of thoughts drove someone to do something so insane?
He wouldn’t be coming back tonight, so reading his memories should be fine. And even if he did, he didn’t know about Hyeong-jin’s ability anyway.
“What’s going on in that twisted head of yours?”
It had started as simple fun—a bit of psychometry to relax after studying. But as the memories unfolded, Hyeong-jin’s expression hardened.
“This psycho bastard…”
What he read was a plan. A plan about himself.
“He’s seriously planning this crap?”
You could call it a cruel prank—but it was a deadly one. The plan was to kidnap him and dump him deep in the mountains.
If he got hurt badly—or worse, froze to death—well, that would just be “unfortunate.”
So that’s ‘implied intent,’ huh?
That meant he knew it could kill someone, but if it did—oh well. He didn’t care.
This lunatic.
Korean law was lenient on implied intent killings—the sentence rarely exceeded five years.
Even if his brain’s made of rocks…
Seeing Jaemyung treat a potential killing as “just a prank” made Hyeong-jin speechless.
“What do I do…”
Letting it happen was too dangerous—he could die of hypothermia out there.
“Run away?”
No, that wouldn’t help. A lunatic like him wouldn’t stop until Hyeong-jin quit or worse. He’d bullied classmates until they transferred—or committed suicide.
“Fight back?”
He’d lose. He was smaller, younger, and there were three of them.
“What a goddamn mess.”
He couldn’t even ask for help. How would that sound? ‘I read his memories from his bed.’ They’d think he was insane—or ship him off to a lab.
And the police? They wouldn’t protect him.
“Christ, this bastard’s driving me insane.”
He clutched his head. He had no one nearby to call for help, and running wouldn’t solve anything.
“Right, in Korea, I’d be the one punished.”
Korea was notoriously reluctant to recognize self-defense. If he resisted during a kidnapping, he’d be charged for “mutual assault.”
He’d have to wait until after being abandoned to report it.
“Fine, you damn lunatic. You’re asking for it. Never been to the army, huh? I’ll show you what a discharged sergeant of the Republic of Korea can do!”
Sure, that was from his past life—but he still remembered everything. More than enough to give them hell.
***
“There he goes.”
“Out for a run?”
Being in the countryside, there were lots of wooded areas around. Some people jogged through the forest for exercise. Hyeong-jin had started doing that recently, too—to build stamina.
And of course, Jaemyung’s gang noticed.
“No one around?”
“All clear.”
Few people ran there late at night—but the gang knew Hyeong-jin’s routine after studying.
“The van?”
“Borrowed it.”
Seeing his friend pull up in a big van, Jaemyung grinned.
“Brat, say your prayers.”
“Won’t this get us in trouble?”
One of them hesitated. The mountain was dangerous—dump someone there in light clothing, and they might freeze to death.
“If he dies, that’s his fate.”
“What if he calls the cops?”
“We’ll just say it was a prank. Not our first time.”
If Hyeong-jin died, it would just be “bad luck”—nothing to do with them.
“Check everything.”
“Checked.”
The three confirmed their clothes and gear, then slipped into the dark woods—waiting for him to round the corner.
“Huff… huff…”
As Hyeong-jin turned the corner, gasping for air, they lunged—throwing a cloth hood over his head.
“Who are you?!”
“Grab him! Load him up!”
They shoved him into the van and sped off toward a remote mountain.
“Floor it.”
In the back, Hyeong-jin was tied up like a piece of garbage, unable to move.
Damn it… that hurt… wasn’t in the memories though.
One of them had hit him with a bat—pain flared across his body.
He’d anticipated this timing, thanks to reading Jaemyung’s memories. In fact, he’d started jogging at night deliberately to bait them out.
Idiots really fell for it.
Just as expected, Jaemyung’s gang had sprung the trap—kidnapping him and racing toward the mountains.
“Hey, brat, you brought this on yourself!”
Jaemyung cackled from the front seat.
Hyeong-jin was speechless.
Do they not even know the basics of kidnapping?
Rule one: don’t talk—keep your voice hidden. Confiscate the victim’s phone and any weapons. These morons hadn’t done either.
Well then… if that’s how you want to play it…
