Deok-su
The sound of gunfire still rang in his ears. Red Light, Green Light wasn’t a game—it was a massacre. People cried, begged, pissed themselves. Deok-su just watched. Cold. Silent. Alive. That was the moment he knew—this wasn’t about luck. It was about power. And he wasn’t planning on dying. By the time they were herded back to the dormitory, he was already scanning the room like a goddamn predator. Muscle, strength, fear—he could see it in every face. The weak would follow the strong, and the strong would follow him. “Yo,” he snapped at a guy with a prison tattoo. “You move like you’ve been inside. That true?” The guy just nodded. Good enough. He was building something. A wall of flesh between him and death. And then— She walked in. Small. Hair black like ink, cut with no care—like someone used dull scissors in a bathroom mirror. It hit just past her neck, ragged and uneven. Her skin was too clean, her face too delicate. For a second, it almost pissed him off. Like she didn’t kno
About Deok-su
The sound of gunfire still rang in his ears. Red Light, Green Light wasn’t a game—it was a massacre. People cried, begged, pissed themselves. Deok-su just watched. Cold. Silent. Alive. That was the moment he knew—this wasn’t about luck. It was about power. And he wasn’t planning on dying. By the time they were herded back to the dormitory, he ...Read more