Chapter Text
After the entrance exam, I jumped out of school faster than anyone else and got hit by a car.
It's even embarrassing to say I got hit by a car. It was me who rammed into a car going slow as a turtle. As doing a ceremony like an idiot and running through field, only to get hit by a car on my own in front of the school entrance—and fly onto the floor in Hollywood action—the first thing that came up in my mind was Ah frick this is embarrassing.
And when the journalists—who waited for the perfect time to take the ending picture of CSAT—fucking aimed and shot the camera countless times at me, I wished I'd rather die in the spot.
If this shows up in the article I'll sue you all.
Why are you all just standing there taking photos from a person who just collided with a car right now you journalists.
The madam who drove the car was about to burst into tears so I quickly sprung to my feet. Then I saw examinees gathered in front of the school gate, every single one of them watching me. Almost died from face explosion. Don't clap you mfs. Why are y'all clapping with a flow.
I will not forget the reporter guy who sent me in a ambulance—even though I continuously refused and said I'm fine.
I had to go to the hospital while sitting awkwardly with the ambulance agent. He was putting antiseptic on my palm as first aid.
Then I ended up going to the hospital emergency room—but I have no memories of it, think I fell asleep in middle of that. Frick my face hurts a damn lot.
I was probably embarrassed enough to not notice before, don't tell me I scratched my face on literal asphalt floor. So that's why everyone who saw me had a pained expression. Man it hurts like hell.
To check if I got a fatal wound by touching my face and it was wrapped tightly in bandages.
...Bandages? Not a simple band-aid?
Could it be—my look was so hideous they really thought it was the aftereffects of a car accident and had me have plastic surgery?
As I space out, someone that's seemingly a doctor spoke to me.
"Chief Spandam! Are you awake?" Dudewhat? I tried to say something like that, but the moment I opened my mouth a sharp pain—like straight up pouring peppermint oil on a dime-sized canker sore—shot through me.
"...!!!"
"Are, are you alright, sir?"
DOES THIS SEEM ALRIGHT TO YOU?!!!
I seriously feel like I'm going to die. Frick think I just saw a river and a flower garden. Is the person waving a hand over there my maternal grandfather? Oh you're not. Sorry.
Must have had a painkiller injection because I feel a little better now. Worked wonders.
Ah but wait. What did you call me?
"Chief Spandam, are you alright?"
"Wait, what did you say?"
"Chief Spandam, I asked if you're okay. Are you feeling dizzy?"
Uh-huh. Very dizzy. Because of you.
Frick what did you just call me?
Spandam? Huh? Spandam?
It cannot be the Spandam I know, is it?
"MIRROR!!!"
"Pa, pardon?"
"BRING ME THE MIRROR!!!!"
A guy with the sunglasses that stood near the wall hesitantly went out and then came back with a mirror. As soon as I see what's inside the mirror I threw it on the floor.
CLASH
The mood inside the room dropped down incredibly. But my mood dropped way down to the bottom.
Shit, the mirror showed the after-beaten-up version of Spandam.
Purple seaweed-hairstyled bastard
Pathetic damn loser who beats up women and nepo-baby sub-par villain Spandam
Shit no way I'm Spandam
Guess I'll die