Kim-Do's refusal to Kang Seong had repercussions he had not anticipated. By declaring himself "unpredictable," he had unwittingly freed others from their expected roles.
The first person to break the mold was Choi Yu-Ra. She confronted him after school, not with his usual loyalty, but with long-contained frustration.
"Boss, I don't understand anymore," she confessed, her fists clenched by her side. "You hit Dae-Ho, but you protect a neutral. You refuse Kang Seong's offers. You act without logic. The men whisper. They say you're getting weak. Or crazy."
Kim-Do looked at her, a young woman whose loyalty had been a pillar. He saw confusion and fear in his eyes. The fear of following a leader who no longer had a clear course.
"And you, Yu-Ra, what do you think?" he asked, astonishing even himself by his question. Former Kim-Do would never have asked his lieutenant for his opinion.
She was destabilized. "I... I think you've changed. And I don't know if that change is a strength or a weakness."
"Maybe it's both," he replied, with genuine weariness. "Maybe strength and weakness aren't that different."
This enigmatic response did not satisfy her, but she seemed to appease her anger. She left, leaving Kim-Do with the feeling that her strongest pillar was beginning to crack.
The second crack came from Lee Min-Ji. Against all odds, she no longer avoided him. She came to him as he sat alone on a bench, looking at the other students.
"You refused Kang Seong," she said, sitting next to him. It wasn't a question.
"The price of information is too high," he replied.
"That's what an upright person would say," she observed. "But I saw you break Dae-Ho's arm. Integrity and brutal violence do not mix well. So who are you really, Kim-Do?"
He turned his head to look at her. The setting sun hung coppery reflections in her hair. She was not there as a judge, but as an investigator, more determined than ever.
"What if I don't know myself?" he whispered.
This time, it was she who was surprised. She expected a lie, a justification, not an admission of ignorance.
"Everybody knows who he is," she retorted, but with less conviction.
"Really?" he asked, holding his gaze. "Do you know who you are?" You are the daughter of the Council, the one who believes in order. But is it really you, or is it just a role that you were given and accepted?"
Min-Ji opened his mouth, then closed it. No one had ever asked him that question. She, who analyzed everyone, had never turned her analytical gaze to herself.
"I..." She hesitated. "I am the one who wants things to be right."
"Me too," said Kim-Do. And, strangely, at that moment, it wasn't a lie. He wanted to survive, and justice, whatever it was, seemed like a safer path than chaos.
She stared at him for a long time, looking for deception. She found only a weariness and confusion that echoed hers.
"I don't trust you anymore, Kim-Do," she finally said, standing up. "But I don't fear you anymore either. You're... a paradox. And paradoxes are dangerous, because you can't predict their actions."
She left, leaving behind a new, more complex and fragile dynamic.
As night fell, the third and most disturbing crack appeared. Kim-Do was on his way home when a shadow broke out of a portal. It wasn't Joon. It was the boy, the "unknown profile" who had attacked him.
"You refused Kang Seong," said the boy, repeating the phrase that seemed to be on everyone's lips. "Why?"
"I don't like to be manipulated," Kim-Do replied, instinctively preparing for combat.
But the boy shook his head. "That's not an answer. It's a reaction. Joon is wrong about you. You're not just a new perspective. You're an anomaly."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you're not following the script," said the boy, and a glimmer of excitement shone through his eyes. "The other replacements, they're trying to adapt, to become a better version of the original, or a worse one. You, you... drift. You create your own stream."
"The other replacements?" Kim-Do repeated, seized. "Where are they? Who are they?"
The boy smiled, a smile that was not human. "All around you. Some fail. Some succeed so well that they forget who they were. Others... become something else. Like you, perhaps."
Before Kim-Do could know any more, the boy took a step back, melting into the shadows.
"Be careful, anomaly. The system doesn't like data that is resistant to classification. The next time he pushes you into a corner, he may not give you the choice to refuse."
Kim-Do was left alone in the deserted street, with a heavy heart. The cracks were not just around him; they were inside him. His borrowed identity cracked, and what emerged underneath was neither the real Kim-Do, nor the boy he had been, but something new, unknown and frightening.
He looked up at the night sky, without a moon.
"Who am I?" he whispered silently.
For the first time, the issue was not a complaint, but a challenge.