"Yes, I said that,"
Miss Choi stands in the headmaster's office, her voice firm but calm as she addresses him., but you can't do this. We teach children skills to help them grow, not black magic."
The headmaster leans back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "Yes, but from this year onward, we will teach them magic with black power."
Miss Choi's eyes widened in disbelief. "This will not make them good human beings," she retorts, her voice trembling with frustration.
The principal smirks, his tone cold and dismissive. "Miss Choi, it doesn't matter. We don't need to be good humans. In fact, it's not even necessary to remain human. What matters is having power."
"That's wrong!" she snaps, her anger bubbling to the surface.
His expression hardens, and his words cut through the tension like a blade. "I will decide what is wrong and what is right. Not you."
Miss Choi feels her breath catch in her throat. The color drains from her face as his words settle over her like a suffocating weight. She opens her mouth to respond but finds herself unable to speak. There is nothing she can say, and even less that she can do.
Without another word, she turns and leaves the office, her steps heavy with dread. Her mind races as she heads back to the school hall. The condition of this school is going to worsen now, she thinks bitterly. She reaches the hall and closes the door behind her, leaning against it for support.
Inside the hall, the atmosphere has shifted. Some children are visibly excited, their faces lighting up at the idea of learning magic, even if it's dangerous. Others seem uneasy, whispering amongst themselves, their expressions clouded with fear and uncertainty. A few students appear indifferent, relieved at the prospect of being able to leave the school altogether.
The festive air of the party has dissolved, replaced by an unsettling tension. Miss Choi looks around, her heart heavy with despair. She realizes she has been so consumed by the events that she has momentarily forgotten her own daughter's condition. Her distress deepens, and she feels utterly helpless.
She stands in the corner of the hall, her thoughts spiraling. What is everyone thinking? Do they not see the danger ahead? The laughter and chatter of the students now seem hollow, a cruel contrast to the storm brewing within her.
The hopes of Miss Choi in the hall seem shattered, and a heavy silence hangs in her ears. Suddenly, the creak of the door opening breaks the stillness.
A voice echoes faintly through the hall before fading into silence. Miss Choi turns her head toward the door, her face etched with sadness. For a moment, she stares at the entrance, lost in thought. Then, her expression shifts. The sadness melts away, replaced by a faint smile.
He's here, she thinks, relief washing over her like a wave. Our angel of help. He'll fix everything.
Meanwhile, Ji-yeon, who had lost her composure after drinking too much, glances toward the door. Her amber eyes widen, fixated on the figure that steps inside. For the first time that evening, a genuine smile spreads across her lips, a rare and unexpected sight.
A young man enters, dressed impeccably in a black pantcoat. The sharp contrast of his fair skin against the dark fabric makes him appear even more striking. His hair is neatly styled, though a few strands fall across his forehead, adding a casual charm to his appearance.
He walks with a confident yet calm demeanor, holding a book in one hand. His gaze sweeps across the room, landing on Miss Choi. His lips curve into a warm smile as he approaches her.
"How are you?" he asks, his voice gentle yet reassuring.
Miss Choi is momentarily at a loss for words. All the worries and distress she had been carrying seemed to evaporate in his presence. She opens her mouth, but the only word that escapes her lips is his name.
"Kangha."
Her voice trembles slightly, a mix of astonishment and hope. It's as if the mere sight of him has rekindled a glimmer of optimism in her heart. Kangha's arrival feels like the promise of a new beginning, a light breaking through the darkness.
"What happened to you?" he asks cheerfully, his tone filled with lightheartedness. "You look so beautiful today. It seems like this party is for you!"
Miss Choi blinks, surprised by his words. A faint smile touches her lips as his playful tone momentarily eases the weight in her chest. "Is that so?" she says softly, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Kangha notices her brief smile but quickly shifts his focus, adjusting his coat as if hiding something.
Miss Choi raises an eyebrow, curious. "What are you hiding?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.
Kangha chuckles, patting his coat lightly. "Nothing that concerns you," he replies, his tone teasing.
Before Miss Choi can press further, Wu Jin steps into the conversation with a smiley grin.
"How did you end up here? You didn't want to come, did you?"Miss Choi asks in a sarcastic and questioning tone.
Kangha stands with an easy smile, his eyes glinting with mischief as he addresses Miss Choi. "Wu-Jin told me your daughter is here and that she'll be at the party tonight. So, I thought I'd come to see her," he says, his tone light and teasing.
Miss Choi narrows her eyes slightly, catching the humor in his words. For a moment, she wonders if there's any truth to what he says, but Kangha's playful smirk gives it away.
Wu Jin laughs, his tone light. "Ah, so you're here for her, not for the party. I should've known!" he jokes, shaking his head.
He chuckles softly, adding, "Don't take me too seriously. I'm just joking."
Miss Choi understands the humor in his words and allows herself to relax. The brief exchange brings a rare moment of peace. For a while, she forgets her troubles and lets the evening unfold, curious yet comforted by the company around her.
Despite herself, Miss Choi finds a small smile tugging at her lips. Kangha's lighthearted demeanor eases some of the tension she's been carrying. The way he teases without malice reminds her of simpler, happier times, and for now, she lets herself enjoy the banter.
The party continues around them, but this small interaction feels like a moment stolen from the noise, a brief reprieve from reality.
She laughs softly and says, "Ji Yeon, that's her name." She points toward a young girl standing across the room.
Ji Yeon, already watching them from a distance, suddenly wavers. Her face turns pale, and before anyone can react, she collapses to the ground.
"Ji Yeon!" Miss Choi cries out, panic flooding her voice as she rushes toward her daughter.
Kangha watches in shock. "What happened?" he asks, his tone sharp with concern.
"Maybe she's fainted," Wu Jin offers calmly, stepping closer.
"Who?" Kangha asks, his confusion evident.
"Her daughter," Wu Jin explains, gesturing toward the unconscious girl.
Without hesitation, Kangha and Wu Jin follow Miss Choi. Ji Yeon lies motionless on the ground, her face pale and lifeless. Miss Choi is kneeling beside her, trying desperately to lift her up, but her efforts seem futile.
"Kangha, pick her up and take her to the room," Miss Choi says, her voice trembling but firm.
Kangha hesitates, startled by the sudden responsibility. "Me? Are you sure?" he asks, his concern evident.
"Yes, you! Hurry up!" Miss Choi snaps, her fear overriding any patience.
Kangha did not come there to meet her.. He had come to get an answer to his question from Miss Choi. But now it is his duty to help. And he has no other solution. In the dim, invisible light of the hall, Realizing there's no time to waste, Kangha bends down, carefully lifting Ji Yeon into his arms. "She's so light," he mutters to himself, worry etched across his face.
"Follow me," Miss Choi instructs, leading the way toward the ji-yeon room. Wu Jin trails behind, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity.
As they move through the crowd, whispers ripple around them, but Kangha focuses solely on Ji Yeon, hoping she'll wake up soon. The weight of her frailty feels heavier than it should, and he can't shake the unease growing in his.
As he steps out of the hall and into the dimly lit corridor, Kangha pauses for a moment. His gaze falls on the girl he's carrying in his arms. For a brief second, he's caught off guard, his eyes fixated on her pale, unconscious face. The soft glow of the corridor light casts a faint shadow over her features, highlighting the vulnerability in her stillness. Her breath comes in shallow, uneven waves, and her frail form rests heavily against him.
Kangha's heart pounds in his chest, a mix of concern and confusion surging through him. He had been focused on his mission, but now, as he holds her, the reality of the situation hits him. Who is she? Why is she in this state? His grip tightens instinctively, but he doesn't know if it's to protect her or to reassure himself…..