No More Thug Life, I’m Playing Music

Episode 45: Group Training (2)

The smallest of the four buildings at Hanshin Resort, Building D.
On the second floor, overlooking the first-floor lobby, was a lounge café.

I was sitting across from Professor Han Gwangsook.

“Did I… perhaps upset you?”
Professor Han asked cautiously.

To be honest, I’d felt deeply uncomfortable at first.
No one likes being tricked, after all.

“I…”

In this situation, I had two options:
I could express my displeasure or graciously accept the situation.

My choice was clear.

“Not at all.”

Professor Han had invited me to the camp twice before, and I had turned her down both times.
In a way, she had more reason to feel offended than I did.
But instead of showing anger, she had taken a bold approach—masking her persistence as kindness.

As a result, the power dynamic had shifted to me.
Now, as the “victim,” I held the upper hand in this symbiotic relationship.

In a way, it worked out for the best.
I could take advantage of the situation now and ask for something in return later.

“Honestly, I felt bad for turning you down twice. I’m glad I could join, even if it’s like this. Thank you for giving me another chance.”

“Of course, of course….”
Professor Han reached out and held my hand.

“Bringing you here was purely for your benefit. I’m sure it’ll help you tremendously.”

As she spoke, I heard a faint scoff from a nearby table.

Seated there were Han Yeoreum and Kim Bom.
Han Yeoreum was engrossed in her ice cream, while Kim Bom was leaning slightly in my direction.

I glanced at them briefly, then turned my attention back to Professor Han.

“I’m always grateful for your guidance and care,” I said with a smile.

In truth, this camp was advantageous for me in many ways.
Not only were there high school students from across the country, but also several pianists aligned with Professor Han’s network.
It was an excellent opportunity for musical exchange and even private lessons from the professor herself.

And then there was the environment.

I turned my gaze toward the window beside the café.
Beneath the dark sky, the ocean swayed gently.
From anywhere in Hanshin Resort, the sea was visible.

The top-notch service and the spectacular view made the place thoroughly enjoyable.

Shifting my attention to the lobby below, I observed the scene.

The evening bustle filled the area, with people milling about after dinner.
Among them, I spotted Choo Minji, holding a camcorder.
Her grin stretched almost to her ears.

Choo Minji had mentioned how difficult it was to get into this music camp, which Professor Han hosted.
Applications poured in because it offered a chance to connect with Professor Han and a conducive environment for improving skills.

Her plan was simple: film highlights of the camp and upload them, hoping to draw significant attention from the music world.

But there was one problem.

Building D had been entirely booked by Professor Han for the week.
Everyone here, apart from a few teachers, was part of the camp—students who had beaten the odds to attend.

In the midst of these diligent and polished young musicians, however, was a group that stood out for all the wrong reasons.

They were loud and rowdy, with an unkempt appearance: the Poonggwang High School Orchestra members.

“Oh man, the food’s amazing!”
“Hahaha! This place is awesome!”

They were jumping around excitedly, making themselves conspicuous.

“Hem.”
Following my gaze, Professor Han cleared her throat.

“Hmm… I knew you participated in extracurricular activities, but I didn’t expect you to associate with kids like that. I trust there won’t be any problems?”

“None whatsoever,” I assured her.

After all, this behavior wouldn’t last beyond today.
Better to let them make a poor first impression than the reverse.

Although I was a bit worried about Eom Deokgu, I had asked Choo Minji to keep an eye on him.

“Good, Seojoon. Just so you know, your group’s names are only on the attendance list. Don’t worry about participating too rigorously. This camp’s schedule is demanding, and those kids likely won’t last.”

“Thank you for your consideration.”

“Now then, shall we go for a stroll…?”

At that moment, a man hurried up the stairs connecting the lobby to the café.
He was a graduate student and teaching assistant in the music department at Korea University, always seen accompanying Professor Han.

“Professor!”

The teaching assistant slowed his steps, adjusting his clothes as he approached.
He cast me a brief glance before speaking to the professor.

“There’s a fight downstairs.”

“What? A fight?”

Others in the café stood as well, looking down at the lobby.

But it appeared no different than before.
Even without earplugs, only classical music filled the air. There was no sign of any commotion.

“Where?”

“Well….”

The teaching assistant raised his arm, about to point in a direction.

Crash!
A loud shattering sound erupted as a rock came flying through the lobby’s rear window, scattering shards of glass everywhere.

It was only then that the commotion outside reached my ears—three men shouting, their voices filled with profanities.

Among them, I recognized one voice.
Lazy, cocky, and unmistakably familiar: Eom Deokgu.

****

30 minutes earlier.

In a secluded area outside the lobby’s rear exit, Eom Deokgu pulled his phone from his pocket and powered it on.

Dozens of missed call notifications filled the screen.
He checked only the last two.

The first was from his mother:

“Deokgu, your father has an important event coming up. Please, I’m begging you—be careful. Let’s go back to Vienna together once you graduate high school. Call me when you see this.”

The next was from his father:

“If you’re going to be like this, just die, you little bastard. Who do you even take after?”

“Damn it….”
Deokgu gritted his teeth and turned his phone off again, shoving it back into his pocket.

He rummaged through his belongings for a lighter but soon realized he didn’t have one.

“Great. Just great.”

Scanning his surroundings, he noticed two male students exiting the lobby.

Their swaggering steps and smug expressions told him everything he needed to know.
As expected, the moment they turned the corner, they pulled out cigarettes and lit up.

Deokgu approached them, intending to borrow a light.

“Hey, you guys.”

The two students turned to him.
At first, their gazes swept over him suspiciously, but their expressions soon softened into something more accommodating.

“What do you want?”

“Got a light?”

“Oh, sure.”

They handed him a lighter, and Deokgu walked a short distance away to use it.

Click, click.
“This thing barely works….”

As he tried to light his cigarette, the students’ conversation drifted into his ears.

“What’s with those losers?”

“Who?”

“Poonggwang? That group of thugs hanging around here.”

At this, Deokgu scoffed silently. He had no loyalty to his school’s orchestra or its reputation, so he ignored the remark.

“Don’t you know? There’s a rumor.”

“What rumor?”

“Man, you’re always cooped up in the practice room. How do you expect to survive in the music world if you don’t keep up with the gossip?”

“Shut up and tell me already.”

“Jung Seojoon. Baekjung.”

Huh?

The name caught Deokgu’s attention. He listened more closely.

“Oh, you mean that pretty boy? Isn’t he a classical music YouTuber or something?”

“YouTuber? Clearly, you’ve never seen him play piano.”

“Why would I? Piano’s not even my instrument.”

“Exactly. Anyway, there’s a rumor he’s Han Professor’s… something.”

“Something?”

Deokgu glanced sideways at them, catching one of the boys holding up his pinky finger—a gesture implying a romantic relationship.

“No way! Wait, was that why they were sitting together in the café earlier?”

“Probably.”

“Crazy… so, what about the rumor that he’s dating Han Yeoreum?”

“That’s all nonsense. Think about it—why would someone like Han Yeoreum, a world-class talent, date some high schooler?”

“High schooler or not, Baekjung is kind of famous.”

“Not anymore. He doesn’t even have any recent international competition wins. Oh, you haven’t heard the other rumor, have you?”

“What now?”

“They say he spent some time in a mental hospital.”

“No way… seriously?”

“Man, if I had a face like his, I’d charm a professor and cruise through life, too….”

Their laughter was abruptly cut off when they realized Eom Deokgu had moved right next to them.

“…Can I help you?”

“Couldn’t hear you properly.”

“What?”

The students exchanged incredulous looks, but Deokgu spoke calmly as usual.

“I mean, you guys sound like squeaking rats. Is your voice that pathetic because your junk is the size of a rat’s, too?”

“…What the hell did you just say?”

The louder of the two students, his pride wounded, immediately lashed out.
Though initially intimidated by Deokgu’s rough appearance, he was a big deal at his own school and wouldn’t back down so easily.

“You wanna die, you—” Cough!

Deokgu grabbed the boy by the throat and leaned in close.

“See, I have this mental illness. I get this uncontrollable urge to lash out whenever I hear someone running their mouth like you just did. So, please understand.”

Deokgu wasn’t angry because of what they said about Jung Seojoon.

Their behavior itself was the problem.

“Let… me… go… ugh….”
“Nope,” Eom Deokgu replied flatly.

“Let him go!”
The other male student yelled, gripping a small reed-making knife with trembling hands. His eyes were wide with fear, his arm shaking.

“What’s this?”
Deokgu sneered, raising an eyebrow.
“You even carry a knife? Impressive.”

It wasn’t just a knife but a reed-making tool, essential for oboe students. Of course, Deokgu didn’t know that.

“Shut your mouth!”
The boy with the knife snapped, his anger flaring at Deokgu’s mockery.

Though he looked ready to charge, he stayed frozen in place, his fear outweighing his bravado.

“Hey, he told you to shut up,” Deokgu said, turning his attention back to the boy he was gripping by the neck.

Then, without waiting for a reply, he spat out the unlit cigarette he’d been holding and shoved the boy aside.

“I’ll consider the apology accepted. I’m a generous guy like that.”

“Y-You’re insane….”

As Deokgu turned and began walking toward the rear exit, the boy he’d thrown to the ground suddenly jumped to his feet, his face flushed with rage.

“You bastard!”
He picked up a landscaping stone lying nearby and hurled it with all his might.

****

“Eom Deokgu!”

My shout made Deokgu glance back.
On the ground below him were two boys, writhing in pain, clutching their stomachs and groaning.

“Took you long enough,” Deokgu said casually.
“You son of a—”

Ignoring him, I quickly knelt to check on the fallen students.
Thankfully, their injuries weren’t severe.

By then, Professor Han and several other teachers had rushed out from the lobby to the scene.
The teachers began helping the injured boys up.

“So, am I going home now?”
Deokgu smirked, raising one corner of his mouth, his face radiating a “not-my-problem” attitude.

“…Why are you so twisted?”

“Twisted? Whatever, man.”

I turned away from the defiant Deokgu, feeling the weight of countless stares on me.

Professor Han, the other teachers, and the gathered students from across the country—all their eyes were on me.
Most of their gazes were anything but kind.

For a brief moment, old memories came flooding back—those same judgmental stares I had often endured in the past.

While others might find such situations unbearable, for me, it was familiar.
And I knew exactly how to handle it.

Sigh.
Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and spoke calmly.

“Line up.”

“Line up!”

The Poonggwang High School orchestra members, who had been loitering around the lobby, scrambled to assemble in front of me.
The rowdy boys, who had been acting out just moments ago, stood in a straight line, hands behind their backs, heads bowed.

The murmuring in the lobby quieted, leaving only the soft strains of classical music playing in the background.

“Pack up. We’re leaving.”

“…….”

“Answer me.”

“Yes, sir!”

Without further protest, the boys filed back into the building to gather their belongings.

As the hushed whispers in the lobby began to rise again, I approached Professor Han.

“I’m terribly sorry, Professor.”
I bowed deeply, almost to the point of exaggeration.

“It seems this is not a place for us to be. Before we leave, I will resolve this incident promptly.”

“Seojoon…”

“I have no excuse.”

Straightening up, I glanced at one corner of the crowd.
Among them, Choo Minji caught my eye.

She winked at me and even formed an “okay” sign with her thumb and forefinger.

I gave her a subtle nod before turning back to Professor Han.

“But before that, I need to confirm something. I want to know if this incident was entirely my brother’s fault.”

With a gesture, I summoned Choo Minji, who hurried over and handed me her camcorder.

From the displayed screen, it seemed she had captured the moments leading up to the confrontation.

Click.
I pressed play, and the sound of one of the boys’ voices emerged from the recording:

“Man, if I had a face like his, I’d charm a professor and live the high life….”