Death (2)
In the empty training hall, Death was working out.
He was bench-pressing a weight so heavy that even the strongest trainers couldn't lift it, his swollen muscles bulging as if they might burst, groans of endured pain escaping his lips.
Death was training without using his internal energy.
If he used internal energy, he could lift that weight with a finger, but right now, he was relying solely on his pure physical strength.
The reason he was building such foundational stamina was that his primary martial art was bare-handed fist techniques. For fist fighters who used no weapons, the body itself was the weapon.
Before employing internal energy, the body had to be robust to unleash even stronger martial arts.
"Huuu."
Only after pushing his muscles to their absolute limit did he set the barbell down.
Lying there, he caught his breath for a moment.
Huff huff huff huff.
He was regulating his breathing without using any breathing techniques. As his breaths came ragged, thoughts of the Real Championship's matches naturally surfaced.
Back then, too, he had fought with everything he had. Screw the missions—he wanted to drop everything and rush there to compete right now.
He wanted to win that tournament.
'Kneel, you bastards! I'm the best!'
He longed to shout that from the center of the arena. The more general martial arts tournaments he won, the stronger his craving for the Real Championship grew.
All these achievements he was piling up now—they'd just mock them. He hated that beyond measure.
He had to enter those tournaments and win on the organization's orders, but he didn't want to.
That's when Actor burst into the training hall.
"Heaven is on our side."
He said with a joyful face.
"We were planning to use Dae-jeong-san-jang to eliminate the mastermind behind this, but it turns out Jang Cheon already has a grudge against them from the Gwang-sa-mun incident fourteen years ago.
That makes pulling in Dae-jeong-san-jang far easier."
Actor showed Death a photo of Jang Cheon. The strikingly young face didn't suit this mess at all. He looked like a pushover, not even worth a single punch.
"Just take this guy out, and it's over, right?"
Death asked, staring at Jang Cheon's photo.
"Not the end, but the beginning. Our ultimate goal is to seize Korean Murim for ourselves."
"Either way, we gotta eliminate this punk first, yeah?"
"Exactly."
"Where is he now?"
"We've got a lead."
"How?"
"I sent the photo to Lee Dong-hyeok at Guardian Camp, and he says he's seen him. I'm heading there myself to confirm."
Death nodded.
"Report back the second you have results."
"Yes, sir."
Actor arrived at Guardian Camp and met Lee Dong-hyeok in the reception room.
"Where'd you see him?"
"Take a look at this first."
Lee Dong-hyeok opened a laptop and played a video. It was surveillance footage featuring Jang Cheon.
It was from the time he'd visited here with Park Gwang-cheol before.
"Who's the guy with him?"
"Park Gwang-cheol."
"HT Group?"
"Yes, that's him."
Actor nodded at Lee Dong-hyeok's explanation. According to Big Cat's intel, Jang Cheon had come to Korea to protect HT Group Chairman Park In-hwan.
So it was no surprise he was hanging around Park Gwang-cheol.
"What did he demand?"
"He wanted to overhaul Park Enter's security system."
"Lies. He traced the drone's serial number and came sniffing around Guardian Camp."
"Damn it!"
Lee Dong-hyeok's face hardened. Actor wasn't a martial artist, but Lee Dong-hyeok was. The realization that someone had been surveilling him ignited his fury.
"For now, play dumb and meet their demands. We'll turn this situation to our advantage."
"Got it."
"Confirmed: it's definitely Jang Cheon."
Death nodded at Actor's report and asked,
"Where is he now?"
"Hanging with Park Gwang-cheol at Park Enter. Now that we've tracked him, all that's left is handing him over to Dae-jeong-san-jang."
"How?"
"Lee Dong-hyeok's been buttered up. We just need a natural way to feed him to them as bait."
"That'll take time."
"With the grudge against Jang Cheon, it won't take that long."
"Still, not within ten days?"
"No, ten days is impossible."
As Actor answered, a puzzled feeling crept in. Why mention ten days?
"Actor!"
"Yes."
Death glared at Actor coldly.
"You think I'll lose to him?"
"What are you talking about all of a sudden?"
"If not, why complicate things? I could just go kill him myself. Why drag in Dae-jeong-san-jang?"
"It's for contingencies. He's a martial genius who passed the BST at age eight. At twenty, he single-handedly wiped out Gwang-sa-mun.
That was fourteen years ago. No one knows how much stronger he's gotten."
Death's expression darkened.
"Just say it—you think I can't beat him."
"Misunderstanding. I just want to handle this safely."
"Your safety, you mean. You bastard, did you call me here as your bodyguard?"
"Absolutely not. We just don't know Jang Cheon's true level."
But no explanation got through.
"Ranked 29th, and you see me as a joke?"
"Death! You know that's not true. Why are you doing this?"
Then Death pulled out his phone and showed something.
Only a location and time: Australia, ten days from now.
Actor knew instinctively.
"Real Championship?"
"Right. Invitation to the Real Championship. You have three days to confirm participation upon receipt.
If you get invited and don't go, no guarantee you'll get another next year."
Actor stayed silent. Telling an excited man that organization business came first wasn't wise.
But in the end, he should have said something.
"I'll handle Jang Cheon and be back."
Before Actor could stop him, Death leaped out the window and flew off.
"No!"
But Death's figure had already vanished, bounding across rooftops.
"Damn it!"
This was a disaster. His burning desire for the Real Championship had ignited the moment he saw that invitation.
Unaware of his state, Actor had reported on Jang Cheon. Jang Cheon was the spark thrown on that fuel.
Yeah, if he could just kill him.
If Death took him out, things would simplify. With the threat gone, they could send Death to the tournament.
But if Death lost? Even died?
Death was one of the organization's key assets. His death would mean Actor shouldered the blame—he'd requested Death personally.
No way to help now. Even calling HQ, it'd take days for a stronger expert to arrive.
"Damn! You idiot!"
He realized his confidence in handling Death had been a huge miscalculation.
With things this way, all he could do was pray Death killed Jang Cheon and returned.
Jang Cheon was at Park Enter.
Today, Park Gwang-cheol was set to meet Guardian Camp's Lee Dong-hyeok at the company.
"What do we do? Sign the contract?"
"Play it coy—string 'em along."
"Got it."
That's when Hwa-ran entered Park Gwang-cheol's office.
"Oh? Mr. Jang."
"Ms. Hwa-ran, doing well?"
"Same as always. Broadcasting, events. Living as the slave of a wicked CEO."
Her face looked brighter than before, thanks to getting along better with Park Gwang-cheol lately.
"Oh, right—we gotta throw Yeon a BST pass celebration party. You'll come, yeah?"
"Of course."
"I'll let you know when we set a time. Let's all meet up again."
"Sounds good."
"Carry on talking."
Hwa-ran sat on the sofa and turned on the TV. She was monitoring a show she'd appeared in.
News came on before the program.
Footage showed Night signing documents at the agreement ceremony.
Seeing him after so long stirred Jang Cheon's heart. They were in the same Korea, yet hadn't met—a regrettable reality.
Park Gwang-cheol, oblivious to Jang Cheon and Night's bond,
"Damn! Big Show's at it again with the media play."
Hwa-ran whispered to Jang Cheon,
"They see Big Show as rivals. We're not even on their radar."
Park Gwang-cheol chimed in,
"I can hear you, babe. Go learn telepathy or whatever from that expert over there."
"Then one day wouldn't cover all your faults."
Big Show Entertainment was Korea's top agency with countless stars. Park Gwang-cheol dreamed of growing Park Enter to match.
"Those rich bastards even roped in SGC."
But that was something Park Gwang-cheol didn't know. Or rather, he didn't grasp Night's style.
For SGC's Korea debut, Night sought maximum buzz. In other words, he'd chosen Big Show to promote SGC.
It proved a brilliant move. Entertainment agencies generated incomparable hype to regular firms.
Snagging industry leader Big Show rocketed them to the spotlight.
Night planned to solidly establish SGC in Korea.
Right, Night?
Just then, Night on screen nodded to Big Show's CEO.
His bright smile and nod looked like agreement with Jang Cheon's thoughts.
"Jealous? Want me to assign you agents too?"
Park Gwang-cheol asked, and Hwa-ran laughed,
"Need rabid fans for bodyguards. We're the ones chasing fans here."
At her self-deprecating joke, Park Gwang-cheol said seriously,
"Contract with them later, you're first on my list. Number one."
Hwa-ran's eyes widened.
"Really? Me first?"
"Obviously."
"It Girls first, though."
It Girls were Park Enter's top idol singers.
"They're young—they'll be fine. Can run in emergencies."
Hwa-ran looked touched.
She turned to Jang Cheon,
"Thanks."
Park Gwang-cheol bellowed,
"I'm the one assigning them—why thank him?"
Hwa-ran ignored him and said to Jang Cheon,
"Living large lately, thanks to you."
"No problem."
Park Gwang-cheol yelled,
"You two! Me! It's my money paying for it!"
Then his phone rang. After the call, the playfulness vanished from his face.
"Lee Dong-hyeok's on his way."
"Okay."
Park Gwang-cheol said, face flushed,
"Feels like I'm the lead in a thriller flick."
Hwa-ran laughed,
"Thanks to you, I'm the heroine?"
Jang Cheon glanced at them, pretended not to hear, stood, and called Phone.
"Lee Dong-hyeok's heading here. Check his place."
"Yes, Boss."
"Be careful."
"Don't worry."
Hanging up, Jang Cheon said to Park Gwang-cheol,
"Any stars you can call over? Famous idols would be best."
Park Gwang-cheol called his secretary.
"Where are It Girls right now? Oh? They can come to the office then. Got it. Tell 'em to head straight here."
Hanging up, Jang Cheon asked,
"Not curious why I want them called?"
Park Gwang-cheol crossed his legs, lowered his voice dramatically,
"A key supporting character's request—you must have your reasons."
His haughty acting cracked Hwa-ran up, sending her tumbling back.
Jang Cheon chuckled and walked to the window.
Of course. From now on, every little move demanded precise thought. In a life-or-death story, survivors become the leads.