Ji-yeon's mood is already sour, and the boy's audacity only adds fuel to the fire. She glares at him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, struggling to suppress the storm brewing inside her.
"Would you like to dance with me?" the boy asks, his tone casual, but the smirk on his face hints at something more than innocence.
Her heart burns with irritation, and though she wishes to tear his smug expression apart, she keeps her voice cold and firm. "No."
"But I've come especially for you," he presses, stepping closer, his smile growing wider and more infuriating.
Ji-yeon's eyes narrow, her anger bubbling to the surface. She feels as though he's mocking her, his demeanor dripping with flirtation. The sheer arrogance makes her blood boil.
"You leave right now," she hisses, her voice sharp as a blade, "or I swear, I'll break your face in front of everyone at this party."
The boy's smile falters for a brief moment, but he shrugs it off, chuckling softly. Ji-yeon doesn't wait for his reply. She turns on her heel and storms off, her heels clicking against the floor as she moves to a table where a group of girls is gathered, laughing and sipping their drinks.
She joins them without a word, grabbing a glass of alcohol from the table. The liquid burns her throat, but she doesn't care. One sip turns into two, then three, and soon she loses count.
Ji-yeon doesn't usually drink, and she certainly doesn't usually get this angry. In fact, she knows herself to cry when overwhelmed, but tonight, the tears refuse to come. Her chest aches as if her heart is sobbing silently, but no one can hear it—not even her.
She can't understand why she feels this way, why every sip of alcohol seems to stir emotions she doesn't recognize. Is it the boy's audacity? Is it something deeper? She doesn't know, and with each passing moment, her mind grows hazier. The bitterness in her heart remains, heavy and unrelenting, as the party continues to blur around her.
Suddenly, the lights in the hall dim, casting the room into a soft, shadowed glow. A single spotlight illuminates the stage, drawing everyone's attention to the center. There, the headmaster stands, his presence commanding yet oddly unfamiliar tonight.
A low murmur spreads through the crowd before it quiets, as if the air itself grows heavier. The headmaster clears his throat, his voice firm and resonant as it fills the hall.
"I welcome you all," he begins, a smile faintly visible on his face. "How are you all?"
"We're fine!" A handful of voices respond enthusiastically, mostly from the new students. Ji-yeon remains silent, her arms crossed, watching the scene unfold with disinterest.
The headmaster pauses, letting the room settle before continuing. "Every year, only fifty students are admitted to this prestigious school out of two hundred applicants. But this year…" He takes a dramatic pause, his gaze sweeping across the hall. "This year, we are admitting all of you."
A ripple of applause spreads through the hall,, but not everyone is clapping. Miss Choi, standing near the edge of the hall, stares at the headmaster in disbelief. Her eyes widen as his words sink in.
This isn't right. This breaks the rules, she thinks, her chest tightening. The school has always admitted only fifty students annually, carefully selected and nurtured over the course of five years. She had personally finalized the list for this year. And now, everything seems to be overturned in an instant.
"I am glad that all of you have supported my new decision," the headmaster continues, his voice growing warmer. "I assure you, I will personally take care of your children. This is my promise to you as the headmaster of this school."
Miss Choi clenches her fists, her frustration mounting. She remembers the headmaster as a kind-hearted man who would celebrate these occasions with warmth, offering guidance and love to the students. But tonight, his tone carries a sharp edge, a sense of authority that feels unsettling.
"I am your head," he declares, his voice rising slightly, "and you will accept my decisions as such. Treat me as your leader, and I will ensure the success of this institution."
Miss Choi feels a wave of disbelief wash over her. This isn't the man I know. This isn't the way he speaks. What has happened to him?
The hall falls into an uneasy silence, the applause fading like a distant echo. The students, who moments ago were cheerful, now exchange uncertain glances. Whispers start to ripple through the crowd.
"Why is he acting like this?" one student murmurs to another.
"He's never been like this before," another replies, their voice tinged with confusion.
The headmaster's words linger in the air, heavy and oppressive. For years, he had treated every student as his own child, nurturing them with kindness and fairness. Tonight, however, he seems distant, almost unrecognizable.
Miss Choi's mind races. This isn't just a change in policy. This feels like the start of something much darker. Her unease deepens as the students' whispers grow louder, a collective anxiety spreading through the hall like wildfire.
The headmaster's voice deepens, carrying a strange weight that silences the hall entirely. "We will teach you such things here that you will be surprised," he announces, his tone almost too eager. "We will make you masters of magic. Once trained, you will be able to do whatever you desire."
The hall grows eerily quiet. A sense of unease spreads among the students and staff. This isn't what anyone expected. This school has always been a place of discipline and academic excellence, known for teaching only the finest education. Yet now, the headmaster is speaking of something far beyond the realm of reason.
Miss Choi's heart pounds in her chest. What is he talking about? Black Magic? Her instincts scream that something is deeply wrong.
Suddenly, the headmaster chuckles—a low, unsettling laugh that echoes through the hall. Without another word, he turns and walks out, leaving behind a crowd steeped in confusion and whispers.
"Did he just say we'll learn black magic?" a student murmurs, wide-eyed.
"Not just that," another adds, their voice trembling. "Did you hear him say we'll be sent to war?"
"That can't be true," Ji-yeon mutters to herself, her gaze fixed on the empty stage. "This school isn't for things like that."
Miss Choi snaps out of her daze and rushes after the headmaster, her heels clicking against the floor. Her thoughts race as she follows him through the dim corridors. I need answers. This isn't how things are done. He can't just throw away our principles.
But as she turns a corner, the headmaster is nowhere to be seen. She stops, her breath quickening. The corridor is empty, as though he vanished into thin air.
"Where did he go so quickly?" she whispers, her unease growing. She hesitates for a moment, then turns back toward the hall.
When she reenters, the whispers among the students have grown louder, their voices filled with both excitement and fear.
"A black Magic classes. Can you imagine?" one student says, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"And war," another says grimly. "Why would they send us to war? This doesn't make sense."
"Can we all perform magic like a demon without any magical power?"
A child's voice echoes in the hall, filled with curiosity and wonder.
"Or will they enhance the magic powers we already have?"
Another child speaks up, deep in thought, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"Will we be able to do anything?"
This question comes from a third child, their tone wavering between excitement and uncertainty.
Some children speak with joy, their faces glowing with hope and excitement.
"If this is true, just imagine how powerful we will become!" a girl exclaims enthusiastically.
On the other hand, a few children seem lost in confusion, their voices tinged with a hint of fear.
"But how is this even possible? Is it real, or just a story?" a boy mutters quietly, doubt evident in his voice.
Every child in the hall is commenting on the same topic. Their whispers merge, creating a wave of questions and speculation that fills the air. Some are excited, some are curious, and others are frightened. One thing is certain—this moment has left an indelible mark on their minds, and everyone is eagerly waiting for answers.
Miss Choi steps forward, ready to calm the growing chaos, but before she can speak, her gaze darts around the hall. The headmaster's presence still lingers, heavy and oppressive, yet there's no trace of him. She swallows hard, the mystery deepening. What is happening here?
Her determination solidifies. Whatever is going on, she knows one thing for sure—this isn't the school she has dedicated her life to. And she will find out the truth, no matter where it leads her.
Miss Choi rushes down the corridor, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. Her heart races as she reaches the headmaster's office, her mind reeling at how he managed to arrive here in mere seconds.
Pushing the door open, she steps inside and finds him seated at his desk, perfectly composed, as if nothing unusual had happened. His expression is calm, almost amused, as he glances up at her.
"Miss Choi, are you here for something?" he asks, his voice smooth and unbothered.
Miss Choi's face remains stern as she takes a step closer, her eyes locked on him. "What did you just tell the students in the hall?" she demands, her tone sharp. "That you'll teach them black magic and evil powers now? What is the meaning of this?"
The headmaster leans back in his chair, his hands resting lightly on the armrests. He doesn't flinch or react to her anger. Instead, he watches her intently, his calm demeanor only adding to her frustration.