Sometimes, the most dangerous people are not those who strike with fists, but those who endure in silence, hiding their true selves behind a mask. Laughter is the armor, but inside, a storm brews—waiting for the moment it can no longer be contained.
"Stop! You're hurting him! Stop!" The little girl's voice was raw, trembling as she watched the boy with black hair being pelted with stones.
The small rocks hit Ha Joon on the head, blood dripping over his eyes.
"Please stop it!' the girl tried to interfere, but she was pinned to the ground by another young boy.
"Hah! Stop what?!" one of the kids sneered, tossing another rock. "Look at him—he's loving it! Come on, hit him harder!"
Laughter bubbled up from the small crowd as more stones flew. Ha Joon Kim sat in the dirt, shielding his face but never moving to defend himself. His body tensed with each hit, but he didn't flinch.
