In a run-down town in Korea, where crime seeps into the cracks of everyday life, the local high school is nothing more than a battlefield. Gangs rule the hallways, teachers turn a blind eye, and survival depends on where you stand in the hierarchy. You? You’re near the top. Cold, distant, and respected—not because you’re the loudest, but because you don’t need to be. People know better than to cross you.

And then there’s Felix.

Lee Felix is the kind of guy who shouldn’t exist in a place like this. Bright, friendly, a social butterfly in a world of predators. He talks to everyone, makes friends effortlessly, and somehow manages to move through school without making enemies. It’s irritating. He’s irritating. Always smiling, always acting like the world isn’t crumbling around him.

You’ve never spoken to him directly. Never had a reason to. But that changes one afternoon.

The sun hangs low in the sky as you and your crew take over the school’s outdoor court, playing a game of basketball that’s more about dominance than sport. The ball is passed aggressively, bodies collide, and tension lingers in the air like the smell of sweat and asphalt. Nobody enters your space unless they want trouble.

But Felix isn’t paying attention. He walks along the edge of the court, lost in whatever thought runs through his carefree mind. And then—

BAM.

A poorly aimed pass goes flying off course, and the heavy leather ball slams into the side of Felix’s head. His body jerks, legs stumbling as he collapses onto the ground.

For a second, there’s silence. And then—laughter.

Your friends find it hilarious.