My body was weak, but it was healthy.

That might sound contradictory, but what I meant was that while I was frail when it came to fighting or exerting strength, my recovery speed was absurdly fast. It was a bizarre body, really.

The cast came off in less than three months. Apparently, my bones had already fully healed. To be honest, I didn’t feel much discomfort moving my arm. The bruises and contusions on my body quickly faded back to their original color. The wounds on my feet had scarred a little, but they no longer hurt. It seemed that even though I lacked strength, my body had remarkable resilience. They say nothing in this world is entirely bad.

My parents, on the other hand, were in total chaos.

My father, who had to stay overseas for work, raged on the phone for hours, while my mother, who had caught the next available flight the moment she heard the news, took one look at my face and immediately started screaming into the phone. The content of the call was obvious—she was threatening to open a school violence committee.

For the first time, I felt a twinge of guilt toward my parents. It finally felt like I had become an unfilial son.

Everything was taken care of swiftly. I didn’t have to do anything. I just lay in bed, feeling the salty summer breeze drifting through the window.

The conclusion of this entire ordeal was that Hong Huijun was expelled.

Apparently, his frequent disruptive behavior and interference with the academic environment had already been noted by the school. Honestly, compared to Kim Minho, Hong Huijun caused fewer problems and was actually a quieter student.

But having wealthy parents had its perks.

My mother, who had ultimately secured victory, left for overseas again. The same mother who had been crying in front of me didn’t hesitate to rush to the airport the moment it was time for her flight. I understood. It was inevitable. It was the kind of treatment an obedient son who met expectations was supposed to receive. I decided to take pride in it—to see it as a solitude I had to endure in exchange for a greater benefit that would one day return to me.

And so, at home, there was no adult to protect me, and at school, there was no friend to stand by me.

Yet, I felt an unprecedented sense of peace.

The one who controls public opinion first always wins in a fight. In that regard, I had the advantage. I had returned, albeit late, while Hong Huijun had been expelled completely. However, that didn’t make me the perfect victor—unfortunately, it was a disgraceful win.

The new nickname I had acquired was mama’s boy. It was unspoken, but it was there.

The one saving grace was that the general consensus seemed to be let’s not mess with Kang Jun if we can help it. Even if it was more out of disgust than respect, it was still a relief for me.

After all, who would want to be expelled in the second semester of their senior year? The third-year students in this school—especially the ones from the poorer district—must have realized, painfully so, the difference in status. No matter how high they climbed here, out in the real world, they’d all be beneath someone like me.

Still, for some reason, the fact that they had come to understand that didn’t sit well with me.

"But still, 'Mama’s Boy Kang Jun' sounds kind of lame and embarrassing, doesn’t it?"

I had the luxury to make such idle remarks.

Maybe it was because my greatest sorrow had disappeared.

When I returned to school, the first person to welcome me was, surprisingly, Oh Yeonjun.

Though awkward, even Park Haon and Im Yoonki at least pretended to be concerned.

"Kang Jun, hey. Are you feeling better?"

It was a line straight out of a textbook.

And Go Yohan?

Amusingly enough, Go Yohan was slumped over his desk, either asleep or deliberately pretending not to notice me. I knew Go Yohan’s intentions sometimes, but for the most part, I didn’t understand him at all.

Lately, Oh Yeonjun had been acting all high and mighty, going as far as to sit two rows away from Go Yohan’s seat, pretending like he was part of his crowd. The idiot was seriously acting like he belonged.

After my stiff greetings with Park Haon and Im Yoonki were over, Oh Yeonjun sauntered over like a prowling hyena.

This was the most dynamic welcome I had received today.

"Hey, Kang Jun. You’ve got some skills, huh?"

Got some skills? What a joke. Who the hell did he think he was to judge me?

I didn’t even feel it was worth responding to, so I just nodded.

Apparently dissatisfied with my reaction, Oh Yeonjun kept going.

"In the end, money really is the best, huh?"

He wasn’t wrong.

But something about the way he said it irked me.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why? Your parents completely took down Hong Huijun."@@novelbin@@

Oh Yeonjun made a slashing motion across his throat with his hand.

His voice was annoyingly cheerful, completely oblivious to how irritating he was being.

Disgusting.

I rummaged through my bag.

Still unsatisfied with my indifference, Oh Yeonjun leaned in and whispered,

"That guy was in the same crowd as that gay, you know. Like attracts like, right? You know how desperate he was for attention. Total attention whore."

The way he spoke, as if he were any different, was absurd.

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