Dogsung High smelled different now.
Not like bleach or chalk dust, not the iron tang of blood either — though that was there too, faint beneath the surface. It smelled like silence. Like something had been torn out of the walls and no one dared patch the hole.
Third-year Jeon Gitae sat on the stairwell, hands gripping a half-empty juice box like it was a lifeline. The floor creaked when footsteps passed — footsteps that moved fast, avoiding eye contact, hugging walls. Whispers trailed after every shadow.
"Doohwan… that bastard got folded like paper."
"Was it true? His arm... the bone came out?"
"That guy Eli… is he even human?"
None of them said it loud, not in the open. Eli Nam's name had become a curse — or a prayer.
"Where is he now?"
"Don't know."
"That's worse."
Someone dropped a tray in the cafeteria below. Half the hallway flinched.
Gitae sucked hard on the juice straw. He's not just some brawler. He broke Doohwan like it was nothing. The Pit Dogs got put down overnight.
And then came the part no one could explain:
Eli didn't stay. No speeches. No demands. No banners raised. Just… silence.
He beat the devil and walked off.
— [Faculty Room, 3rd Floor]
Vice Principal Kwon hadn't smoked in eight years. Now he'd burned through an entire pack in two days.
"This is unsustainable," he muttered, tapping ashes into an old coffee cup. His tie was loosened, his jacket draped over a broken chair leg.
Around him, the teachers sat in a circle, all haggard. PE Coach Min had a black eye. Literature teacher Jang wouldn't stop shaking her foot. Even old man Seo, the hardliner, was dead quiet.
"We were supposed to reform the Pit Dogs," Kwon growled. "Monitor them. But this… this is a riot waiting to happen."
Coach Min cleared his throat. "The Pit Dogs weren't angels, but they had structure. Now? The kids are in shock. They're scared. They're hungry for power."
"Scared of who?" Jang whispered.
Everyone looked at each other.
Kwon didn't answer. He pulled out his phone instead, opened a locked folder.
A number glowed on the screen. A last resort.
Outside help.
— [Scar Chain Dormitory, Rooftop]
"Three days ago, he was a nobody," Jaeyoon Seo said, arms resting over the railings, eyes on the cracked schoolyard below.
"Three days ago, Doohwan still had two working arms," replied his second-in-command, Hyeseok, as he lit a cigarette.
Jaeyoon didn't laugh.
"He broke the food chain," he said.
Jaeyoon's build was deceptively lean — like a high-tension cable. His nickname, Steel Eye, wasn't for nothing. That gaze had spotted potential recruits, threats, and traitors before they even opened their mouths.
"He doesn't want the Pit Dogs' throne. He just walked away."
"Then what does he want?" Hyeseok asked.
Jaeyoon didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his coat and pulled out a dog tag — metal, rusted at the edge. It had a single word engraved: GLORY.
"I think," Jaeyoon said finally, "he's not looking at the school at all. He's looking past it."
Hyeseok frowned. "You mean the streets?"
"Beyond them too."
The wind picked up. From below, students looked like ants.
"Let's see what happens when a wolf walks into the forest," Jaeyoon said.
— [Bathroom, East Wing, 2nd Floor]
Rowon wiped the blood from his mouth, slow and methodical.
His right eye was swelling shut. His knuckles were scraped. But his pride — that was the real thing that got fractured.
He hadn't been in the fight, but it didn't matter. The Pit Dogs lost. And as their official leader, the stench of failure clung to him now.
"He did this on purpose," he muttered to himself, fists tightening.
Someone had sprayed graffiti across the Pit Dogs' lockers:
"PIT? BURIED."
He kicked the wall, hard enough to dent the plaster. The pain didn't register.
"What's your move, boss?" someone behind him asked. Youngjin, one of the last loyal mutts.
"My move?"
Rowon turned, face dark.
"We hunt him."
Even Youngjin looked uncertain. "Eli's different. He's not like us."
"Then we stop being us."
Rowon spat blood into the sink. "If we don't strike now, we're just dogs waiting for the butcher."
— [Unknown Location, Camera Feed]
A silent figure watched security footage of Dogsung High on five screens. One showed Eli's fight. Another showed students scattering like bugs. A third looped the moment Doohwan's arm broke — over and over.
A hand reached forward, pausing the screen on Eli's face.
Cold. Unreadable. Not rage. Not joy.
Just… control.
"He's ready," said a voice in the shadows.
"Too early," replied another. "He's still caged."
"Not for long."
The first voice chuckled. "Then let's see if he survives when the chain snaps."
The screens went dark.
— [Final Scene: Rooftop, 5th Floor]
Yoon Jaehoon hadn't meant to see him.
He just wanted air — wanted quiet. But when he opened the stairwell door, he froze.
There was Eli Nam, standing alone at the edge of the rooftop, coat fluttering behind him like wings. His back was to the door, arms folded.
Not moving.
Not speaking.
Just watching.
Jaehoon didn't even breathe. The air around Eli felt… wrong. Like pressure in your ears before a storm. Like the stillness right before a riot.
Then — finally — Eli spoke.
One word. Quiet. Cold.
"Scar Chain."
Jaehoon blinked.
"You're… going after them?"
Eli turned.
His eyes, in that moment, weren't human.
"I'm not going after anyone," he said. "They're already coming."
Then he stepped past Jaehoon like mist.
The door clicked shut behind him.
And just like that — the legend moved again.