In the days that followed, I found small ways to test Taesung. I began leaving subtle hints—small slips in my words, minor actions that were meant to see if he was truly watching. In class, I would fix my gaze on him for a second too long, a silent challenge in the middle of a noisy lecture. I smiled at him ever so slightly, knowing he would see the glint in my eyes.
One afternoon, as the final bell rang, I lingered near the empty library. I purposely dropped a book in the hallway, watching as the sound echoed. I walked slowly away, my steps measured, while I stole glances at the shadows. I knew Taesung was there, blending with the dark corners. His calm, almost careless air did not give away the slightest hint of his thoughts.
Later, in a quiet courtyard, I staged a small confrontation. I bumped into a friend and let my anger show—just a spark, a brief flash of harsh words. Taesung was nearby, his face unreadable. I could tell he noticed every detail. I even dared to whisper rumors about the school and the murders, watching how he reacted. He only raised an eyebrow and then moved on as if the talk was just background noise.
Every move I made, I felt like I was testing him. I left questions in my wake, hints that said I was aware of the dark truth hidden in plain sight. But each time, Taesung played along with a measured smile and careful nod. His responses were always calm, never revealing how much he already knew.
As the days turned into a game of silent signals and careful moves, the tension between us grew. We moved like two predators in a quiet forest, each step calculated, each glance heavy with unspoken challenges. I pushed boundaries, eager to see if he would crack a smile, a flicker of surprise. Yet, he stayed cool and collected.
In our quiet battles, I began to relish the danger. Taesung's steady presence was both a threat and a lure—a mirror reflecting my own dark intentions. I knew that every small test was a step further into a game where the stakes were as high as life and death. And in the silence of our unspoken war, I could feel the line between hunter and hunted blur, leaving only the raw thrill of the chase.