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TEENAGERS... SO PRIMITIVE. The night air hung heavy as Kwon tossed the key Kreese had handed him minutes earlier. His expression was flat, unimpressed. "Sensei, I don't understand the meaning of this," he said, his voice edged with irritation.

Kreese caught the key midair, his smirk barely shifting. "You will," he replied cryptically, motioning for Kwon to crouch beside him behind a thick row of bushes overlooking the school parking lot.

Kwon's eyes narrowed as he followed Kreese's gaze. There it was—a glossy black sedan with deep gashes carved across its passenger side. Random, jagged letters scrawled in the paint, glowing faintly under the streetlight. 

"I was promised captaincy to carve stupid letters into the school's biggest asshole's car. This has what to do with karate?" He hissed, exasperated. "You want me to fight them again?" He crossed his arms, glaring at Kreese.

"Not yet." Kreese leaned forward, his eyes sharp and calculating. "Karate isn't just about fists, Kwon. It's about control, timing, and knowing how to dismantle your enemy piece by piece. Sometimes, you don't even need to lift a finger."

Kwon rolled his eyes, still unimpressed. "Yeah, well, I was promised headband, not... vandalism. What does this even-" He stopped abruptly, his eyes narrowing at the markings. "What do those letters even say?"

Kreese didn't answer. He didn't need to.

The moment Jae-chul and his crew marched out of the detention hall, their barely-contained aggression hit the parking lot like a thunderclap. Kreese, crouching behind the bushes, observed them like a predator in waiting. Kwon shifted beside him, impatience radiating off him in waves.

"Perfect timing," Kreese muttered, a sinister smile curling his lips.

"This better be worth my time," Kwon muttered, peering through the leaves. "What's the point of all this cloak-and-dagger crap? Let me just go—"

"Shut up," Kreese snapped, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through steel. "Watch."

Jae-chul reached his car first, his usual swagger replaced by something colder, more dangerous. His footsteps faltered when his eyes caught the message carved into the car door: Y/I (your initials) WAS HERE. The sharp edges of the letters gleamed under the faint lamplight. A snarl twisted his face, and he crouched to inspect the slashed tires, his fury building with every second.

"What the fuck is this?" Jae-chul barked.

"Yo, over here." One of his lackeys held up a snake-print scrunchie, dangling it like evidence in a courtroom. Jae-chul snatched it, his knuckles turning white around the fabric.

"Isn't this hers?" another muttered cautiously, his gaze darting nervously between Jae-chul and the car.

"That nerd... She's a dead woman!" Jae-chul growled, shoving the scrunchie into his pocket.

Kwon frowned. "This is about some girl? What, did she piss them off or something?"

Kreese silenced him with a glare. "Use your head, Kwon. What do you see?"

The boy shrugged. "A bunch of meatheads mad about their car. What's the big deal?"

Kreese's smirk was ice cold. "Exactly. That's all they are. Tools. They're too stupid to think beyond the obvious. They'll follow the trail I left like dogs chasing a bone."

"What trail? What are you—" Kwon's question died in his throat as the group huddled together, one of them showing something on his phone to Jae-chul. Whatever it was, it had an immediate effect. The group's muttering turned darker, their body language more aggressive.

"She's at the arcade," one of the boys said, his voice dripping with menace.

Jae-chul didn't waste time. "Let's go."

They abandoned the car, and took off on their feet, running in the opposite direction, leaving behind nothing but the tension they carried with them. Kwon stood, brushing off his gi. "So, do I chase them and fight them now, or what?"

Kreese's smirk deepened, his voice calm and sinister. "Not yet. This isn't about fighting, Kwon. Not yet."

"Then what's it about?" Kwon demanded, his irritation growing. "Why are we messing with these losers? What's the point?"

Kreese turned to face him fully, his eyes glinting with a cruel sort of amusement. "The point, Kwon, is control. When you're in control, you don't fight battles—they fight themselves. You don't dirty your hands unless it's absolutely necessary."

Kwon crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed. "So what now? You want me to go braid their hair and sing BTS song?"

The man chuckled darkly. "No. I want you to lead me to this... arcade of theirs."

Kwon hesitated, his instincts screaming at him that something was off. But Kreese's gaze bore into him, unyielding, and eventually, he sighed. "Fine. Follow me."

***

The arcade buzzed with life—lights flashing, bells ringing, laughter echoing from every corner. The young girl couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun. She leaned against the skee-ball machine, watching her friends argue over who had cheated during their air hockey game. Ri-na dramatically reenacted her "winning shot," which had somehow sent the puck flying into a stranger's drink. The group had laughed so hard they were nearly thrown out.

"Okay, but who taught Mary how to bowl?" y/n teased, nudging the blonde with a playful grin.

"I'm blaming the lane; it was crooked!" Mary shot back, her cheeks red from laughing too hard.

Their time together was filled with silly mishaps—a claw machine stealing their tokens, Eun-ji accidentally hitting an employee with a foam dart, and y/n managing to lose a Mario Kart race to a seven-year-old who trash-talked her the entire game in his 4th language. Every moment was chaos, but it was the kind of chaos she needed—a brief escape from the heaviness she often carried.

When the clock struck 8 PM, it was time to leave. As they exited the arcade, her friends crowded around her near the front.

"Are you sure you're walking?" Ri-na asked, her tone skeptical.

"Yeah, it's not far," y/n replied, adjusting her jacket. "I could use the air, honestly. Don't worry."

"You know it's dark, right?" Sae-mi pressed, her voice filled with concern.

Y/n smiled and waved them off. "It's 8 PM, not midnight. You guys worry too much."

"Text us when you get home," Mary said, reluctant to let her go.

"Will do!" The y/h/c-haired girl replied, already walking backward toward the road. She threw them a cheeky salute. 

As she began her trek home, her smile lingered. The night air was crisp, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt light—genuinely happy. She replayed the evening's events in her mind, chuckling to herself at their absurdity. For a moment, life felt... normal.

But normalcy was fleeting.

***

In the shadowed depths of an alley nearby, Kwon leaned against the wall, arms crossed as Kreese's calculating gaze followed the distant group of boys. They hadn't gone far, and Kreese's insistence on tailing them had begun to irritate Kwon.

"Why are we still doing this?" Kwon asked, his voice laced with frustration. "They're gone. Can't we just call it a night?"

"Patience, Kwon," Kreese replied cryptically, his tone as sharp as the blade hidden in his words.

Kwon squinted at him. "What's your deal, old man? This doesn't feel like training. You're playing some kind of game, aren't you?"

Kreese's smirk was cold, almost inhuman. "Life is a game, son. The trick is making sure you're the one setting the rules."

The group of boys veered down a side street, their voices carrying in the still night. Kreese straightened, his posture suddenly predatory.

"Follow them," he commanded.

Kwon hesitated. "What's the point? They're just pissed about their car. Let them handle it themselves."

"You think this is about a car?" Kreese asked, his voice low and dangerous. He stepped closer, his eyes glinting with malice. "This is about strategy. Control. You don't just fight wars, Kwon—you win them before the enemy even realizes they've lost."

Kwon sighed but began walking, trailing the group at a distance. The alley stretched into a quieter part of town, and the faint glow of streetlights cast long, eerie shadows. He couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was at play, but Kreese offered no explanation, only his cryptic guidance.

The older man's voice cut through the silence. "When you want something, Kwon, you take it. No one hands it to you. Not in this world."

Kwon glanced at him, uneasy. Kreese's words hung heavy in the air, laced with something dark and unspoken. But for now, he kept walking, unaware of the storm his sensei was orchestrating—and the chaos it would unleash...

The distant shouting started faintly, a ripple in the silence of the night, but quickly grew louder, more hostile. Kreese's smirk widened as he halted abruptly, throwing an arm out to stop Kwon from advancing further.

"Stay put," Kreese murmured, his voice like a low growl. "Watch."

Kwon followed his gaze, squinting into the dimly lit alley ahead. The shadows of Jae-chul and his gang moved erratically, their figures huddled around someone—a girl. Her voice cut through the chaos, sharp and defiant.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!"

The moment Kwon recognized her voice, his stomach dropped. His eyes snapped to Kreese, wide with shock and accusation.

"No. No way," the boy stammered, stepping back. "You!"

Kreese moved like a viper, locking an iron grip around Kwon's neck before he could take another step. "Not so quick, soldier," he hissed.

Kwon struggled against the hold, his heart racing as realization dawned. "What the hell is this? Why would you—why her? She's- she doesn't even..."

"Doesn't even what?" Kreese interrupted coldly, tightening his grip. "Matter? Belong? She's weak, isn't she? The perfect target."

"She's not even involved!" The raven spat, panic creeping into his voice. "You set her up—framed her! For what?"

John Kreese leaned in, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. "Fear, Kwon. Fear is the greatest teacher. It's primal, unyielding. It shows us who we really are... and who they are."

"That's insane!" He hissed, still trying to break free.

"Is it?" Kreese shot back, his tone eerily calm. "How do you think warriors are made? Comfort? Safety? No. They're forged in chaos, in fire. Fear reveals the strength—or the weakness—inside."

The commotion ahead grew louder, the boys shouting insults and accusations. y/n's voice rose again, fierce but cracking under the weight of it all.

"Back off! I didn't touch your car, you psychos!"

Kwon could see the tension building in the group, the way they loomed closer to her. His pulse thundered in his ears. "She's not a warrior," The boy snapped, his voice low but trembling. "She's just a--"

"A victim?" Kreese interrupted, his smirk returning. "Or a victor..? Let's find out."

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