CHAPTER 56: CHAPTER 56 - GHOST OF THE SCHOOL

The briefing didn’t drag on.

Choi finished the slides with the same calm pace he always kept.

Names, locations, missing pieces, the parts that didn’t fit.

Then came the real part — the work.

He didn’t announce anything to the room.

He walked to each person and gave their assignment by hand.

Short. Quiet. Private.

Almost like he was passing them keys instead of tasks.

Min-seo came back only long enough to grab the access card Choi held out.

She didn’t greet anyone. She didn’t sit.

She checked the card, nodded once, and walked right back toward the morgue door.

Yoon Ha-rin read her slip with a small grin, flicked it once, and tucked it inside her jacket.

"All right," she said, mostly to herself.

Kim Tae-sung read his note in three seconds and slid it into his hoodie pocket without breaking typing rhythm.

For him the briefing might as well have ended the moment his task hit his hand.

Lee Dong-wook scratched the side of his neck, the alcohol still clinging to him, but his eyes sharpened when he saw what was written.

"...Got it," he muttered, suddenly sober enough.

Seo Jun-ho didn’t show anything.

He opened his envelope, read the contents carefully, folded it once, and pocketed it.

Not a word.

No one asked what the others got. They didn’t need to.

Ghost-6 wasn’t really a sit-together team. Everyone had their own thing. No overlaps.

They were built to move separately.

Choi watched them for a moment before stepping away from the table.

They just walked out like normal people.

Just four people walking into the city like regular morning commuters.

[Hyun Woo’s High School]

The next morning, Hyun Woo walked through the school gates the same way he always did — one hand in his pocket, backpack hanging off his shoulder.

But the moment he stepped inside, he noticed it. The whole place felt different.

The halls were quiet. Normal quiet, not the scary kind.

No seniors shouting, no groups blocking the path, no boots slamming against lockers.

Just students walking to class, talking about normal things — homework, food, pointless drama.

He passed the lockers and glanced around.

People weren’t looking over their shoulders anymore. No one kept their heads down.

Some were even smiling, an expression he’d forgotten this school could have.

He overheard a few students near the water fountain. "School feels... cleaner," one girl said quietly.

Her friend nodded. "Yeah. Ever since those guys disappeared."

A boy leaned in. "They say it’s the Judge."

Hyun Woo kept walking. He didn’t react.

Two juniors near the lockers were organizing their books, calm like it was the most natural thing.

"I came early today," one said. "Didn’t feel scared at the gate."

"My mom cried last night," the other replied. "She said she’s relieved I’m safe now."

Hyun Woo walked past them and headed for his classroom.

Everywhere he looked in the classroom, the tension that used to choke the classroom was gone.

The old gang corners were empty.

The kids who used to act tough were back to sitting quietly with textbooks open.

Without their leaders, they looked more like confused students than delinquents.

Classrooms that once felt dangerous now looked normal — messy desks, open windows, light coming in.

Teachers weren’t tired or nervous.

Students weren’t pretending to study to avoid attention.

Someone in the back whispered, "I hope the Judge gets rid of every bully."

Another answered, "He already saved this school..."

Hyun Woo sat at his desk and let the voices fade around him.

He didn’t smile. But he felt something settle in his chest — not pride, not joy... just a quiet stillness he hadn’t felt in years.

For once, he could breathe without feeling all that old stuff sitting on his back.

Even though the whole school felt different now...

none of them knew who made it happen.

They talked about the Judge like he was a rumor carried by the wind.

A girl near the front of the class whispered,

"Whoever he is... he saved us."

Another boy said under his breath,

"He’s scary though. What if he shows up here again?"

Someone else added quietly,

"My brother says the Judge is a devil. Says only monsters kill people like that."

And right after that, another voice answered,

"Devil or not... the school is safe now."

Hyun Woo didn’t lift his head.

He just listened.

Every word cut in a different way.

Hero. Monster. Devil. Saviour.

They used every title... except the one that mattered.

None of them said his name.

None of them ever would.

They didn’t know the boy sitting a few desks away, head down, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands, was the reason they could laugh again.

He wasn’t the face they imagined.

He wasn’t the shadow in their rumors.

He wasn’t the legend they whispered about in fear or admiration.

He was just Hyun Woo.

Quiet. Tired. Forgettable.

But he knew the truth.

He removed the ones who poisoned the halls.

He made the gangs disappear.

He gave them this peace — the peace they were too scared to dream about.

And none of it would ever be linked to him.

There wouldn’t be any thanks for him, no credit waiting anywhere, no recognition in anyone’s eyes.

Everything they said about the Judge would always belong to the mask, not him.

All the changes in the school, all the safety returning to the halls, every relieved breath students took — none of it would ever carry his name.

Only whispers that reached him by accident, only praise meant for a ghost, only fear belonging to a mask he wore at night.

And he knew that. He accepted it. Because this peace didn’t need a face.

Some people loved the Judge, others hated him. Some were terrified, some were quietly grateful.

Everyone had their own version of him in their head — monster, hero, vigilante, devil.

But whatever they believed, whatever they whispered about him in corners or online, one thing stayed true: they were safe now. And for Hyun Woo, that was enough.

For a second, sitting in class with the sun on his desk, Hyun Woo felt the weight didn’t vanish, but it felt like something he could hold for now.

A quiet thought crossed his mind, one he didn’t dare say out loud: If this is what comes out of it... maybe what I’m doing isn’t pointless.