A man leaned casually against the counter, his sleeves rolled up, revealing powerful forearms that betrayed a life of intense training. His eyes were sharp, yet there was a mischievous glint in them, like a man who enjoyed playing games with his words.
He chuckled as he looked Jin up and down. “Welcome. You look like a high school student. Not exactly our usual clientele.”
Jin said nothing, keeping his face neutral, though his fists were clenched tight at his sides.
The man’s smile widened as if he noticed. “Haha, alright then. Let me introduce you to our gym,” he said, gesturing to the space around them. “We offer masterclass services. Be it physical education, stress management, or diet plans—we’ve got it all. And we don’t just promise results; we guarantee 100% satisfaction.”
He turned his back to Jin, pretending to shuffle papers at the counter, though his tone remained light. “We charge 100,000 won every month. But it’s worth it, trust me. Not expensive at all for what you get. Oh, and for you…” He glanced over his shoulder with a sly grin. “How about I throw in a private class? Sounds good, doesn’t it?”
Jin narrowed his eyes slightly, his mind racing. (I did my research before coming here. At first, it looked like I came to the wrong place. But now I’m sure… he’s the former champion, Park Gun-Hee.)
The man—Park Gun-Hee—turned fully toward Jin, resting his chin on his hand as if deep in thought. “So, tell me, kid. What’s your reason for coming here? Is it diet? You look pretty slim. So that’s probably not it, huh?”
Jin straightened his posture. “I want to learn how to fight.”
Park Gun-Hee’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Oh? Do you want to take on tournaments or something?”
Jin blinked, thrown off by the casual tone. “What…?”
Park grinned wider, like he was enjoying a private joke.
Jin didn’t hesitate. “Teach me how to fight so I can beat anyone who messes with me.”
For a moment, Park’s grin vanished. The air seemed to grow heavier. His gaze hardened, piercing Jin like a spear. “You know,” he said, his tone flat and devoid of humor, “we don’t encourage people to fight outside of the gym here. If the only reason you came is to beat people up, then I can’t accept you.”
Jin’s heart sank, but before he could respond, the grin returned, and Park waved his hand dismissively. “Just work out a little. You’ll beat anyone, trust me.”
He stood, stretching dramatically as if the serious moment had never happened, his playful demeanor back in full force. “Alright, kid-
Jin didn’t budge. “100,000 won per hour.”
The gym fell silent.
Park stopped mid-stretch, his playful expression wiped clean. He stared at Jin, his face unreadable.
(First UFC champion in Korea. Park Gun-Hee…) Jin’s thoughts raced. (He could’ve lived a great life off his fame alone. But his family was targeted by an opponent—his mother ended up in the hospital. She died there. He found out it was the opponent’s doing and beat the guy into a comatose state. That ended his career. A tragic hero…)
Jin clenched his fists. (He turned third-rate fighters into champions. If there’s anyone who can make me stronger, it’s him. I’ll risk it). "I’ll pay upfront, even if I quit halfway, you won't lose anything" jin said out loud
Park Gun-Hee turned away, walking toward a door at the back of the gym. He stopped at the threshold, his shoulders tense, his back straight. Slowly, he looked over his shoulder, his face a mixture of restrained anger and quiet determination.
“If you can endure eight minutes against me,” he said, his voice cold and commanding, “I’ll acknowledge your determination and accept your offer.”
The challenge hung in the air, heavy and undeniable.
Jin’s heart pounded in his chest, but his expression remained steady. (Eight minutes?) He looked at Park Gun-Hee’s broad back, the scars visible even through his shirt.
“I’ll do it,” Jin said firmly.
Park’s lips curled into a faint grin as he stepped through the door. “Good. Follow me, kid. Let’s see if you’ve got what it takes.”
That night, Jin stumbled home, his body battered and bruised, his face unrecognizable. His younger sister gasped when she saw him.
“Who did this to you? Was it those guys again?” she asked, her voice trembling with anger. “Don’t worry, Jin. If you can’t fight them, I will!”
Jin forced a weak smile. “Don’t worry about it.''
"The match couldn’t even be called a fight. Jin was beaten mercilessly.''
The dimly lit sparring room had an eerie silence to it, broken only by the faint sound of their breathing. Jin stood on one end of the mat, fists raised, his stance shaky but determined. Across from him, Park Gun-Hee loomed like a mountain—solid, immovable, and daunting. His playful grin from earlier was long gone, replaced by a stoic, almost predatory gaze.
"Eight minutes," Park said coldly, cracking his neck as he rolled his shoulders. "Let’s see if you’re worth the trouble."
Jin clenched his fists tighter, his nails digging into his palms.( I have to endure. I can’t back down now.)
Without warning, Park dashed forward, closing the distance in an instant. His first blow—a sharp jab to Jin’s liver—landed with precision. Jin’s body folded instinctively as pain shot through him like lightning.
“Guh—!” Jin gasped, his knees buckling.
Park didn’t relent. A left hook smashed into Jin’s cheek, sending him stumbling to the side. Blood sprayed from his mouth, splattering the mat.
Jin staggered but stood, his legs trembling beneath him. He wiped his bloodied lip with the back of his hand and raised his fists again. His eyes burned with a fire that refused to die.
Park frowned.(He’s not scared. He’s not even hesitating. This kid’s used to pain—too used to it, just what kind of life has he been living in.)
Park launched another barrage—an uppercut to the ribs, a straight jab to the face, and a low kick to Jin’s thigh. Each strike landed with brutal efficiency. Jin’s body was thrown around like a rag doll, but no matter how many times he hit the floor, he got back up.
Park’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing again. “You’re insane,” he muttered. “Or maybe you’re just stupid.”
Another flurry of blows came Jin’s way. At first, they all landed cleanly, crushing hooks to his ribs, sharp elbows to his jaw but slowly, Jin began to move differently. He wasn’t fast or skilled, but he was learning.
He dodged a jab to the face, slipping just out of range. Park’s fist barely grazed his cheek.
“Oh?” Park said, raising an eyebrow.
Jin’s breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he dodged another strike.( I can see it. His rhythm. His movement.) He stepped back to avoid a sweeping kick, his instincts sharpening.
But it didn’t matter. Park adjusted faster.
The moment Jin ducked under a punch, Park’s knee shot up and connected with his stomach. Jin’s vision blurred as the air was driven from his lungs. He collapsed to the floor, clutching his abdomen.
“Stay down kid,” Park said, his voice calm yet firm.
Jin coughed violently, blood splattering onto the mat. Slowly, shakily, he pushed himself up on trembling arms. His vision was red and his head spun, but he stood once more, wobbling like a drunkard.
"Not...done yet," Jin slurred, his lips curling into another bloody grin.
Park clicked his tongue, his patience wearing thin.
The next blow was devastating a spinning backfist that sent Jin crashing to the ground. He hit the mat with a sickening thud, his body motionless for a moment.
Park turned away, muttering to himself. “You did well kid, but it's only been 5 minutes.”
But then came the sound of shuffling.
Park glanced over his shoulder, and there Jin was—on his feet again, his stance broken but still present. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth, staining his shirt.
“You’re kidding me,” Park said, his voice laced with disbelief. “What’s wrong with you? Are you really this desperate to get beaten to a pulp? What kind of life makes someone accept this much pain like it’s nothing?”
Jin’s body swayed as he stared at Park. His vision was blurry, and every breath felt like inhaling fire. But his voice came out steady.
“3 minutes more to go.”
Park’s eyes widened. For the first time, his stoic demeanor cracked. He stared at Jin, seeing something in the boy that unsettled him. Something raw. Something unbreakable.
This kid… he’s something else
Jin lunged forward, throwing a sloppy punch. Park dodged it easily and retaliated with a straight to Jin’s jaw. The force sent Jin spinning, but he caught himself, barely keeping his balance.
The fight continued for what felt like an eternity, though it had only been minutes. Jin’s movements grew sharper, more deliberate. But Park’s skill and experience were overwhelming
With a roundhouse kick to Jin’s side Jin collapsed once more. This time, he didn’t move.
Park stood over him, his breathing calm. “Eight minutes,” he said, glancing at the clock on the wall. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You made it kid.”
Jin groaned, his face pressed against the mat. “Does… that mean… you’ll train me?”
Park crouched down, staring at Jin’s battered face. “You’re insane, kid,” he said with a grin.”
Jin’s bloody lips twitched into a faint smile before he blacked out. ''my name is jin tae hyun"
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