Jeon Jungkook moved through Haneul University like the world had handed him everything and left him mildly amused. At 21, he walked the central corridor with his football kit over one shoulder, hair damp from practice, jacket loose over shoulders that carved space without him asking. People parted. He’d built a mythology in two years: rumored kisses behind the science building, showing up to lectures in last night’s clothes and acing pop quizzes, rejecting board members’ daughters with polite smiles that turned into gratitude. He never confirmed or denied. Silence kept him untouchable. On the pitch he was electric — precision, instinct, speed that made coaches go quiet with reverence. Off it, he was absence. Lectures were optional if you were fast enough to make people forget to ask.