On school anniversary day, zombies erupted inside a Seoul high school. Everyone ran upstairs. I was the only one who ran downstairs.
Three years ago, I was one win away from qualifying for an Asian youth martial arts tournament. After some things happened, I came to Korea to attend high school. Out of the several hundred students at school today, I was the first to escape through the gates. It wasn’t because I couldn’t fight. Someone who almost became a champion knows better than anyone: if you don’t run when it’s time to run, you’re an idiot.
Later, the people in the safe zone gave me a nickname: “The Seoul Runner.”
Whatever. As long as I’m alive, that’s good enough.
