Chapter 14
Chapter 14
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 14
Chapter Title: High School Girl VS Dance Team (3)
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Nan dewithout warning, An Seung-ho showed up.
The timing couldn't have been worse.
I didn't want him seeing me dressed like this.
The clubroom was my first stop.
I quickly threw on the team hoodie.
A knock followed, and An Seung-ho stepped in.
"Why'd you chase after me and make a fuss?"
"No, your tail..."
"My tail what."
"......"
An Seung-ho's mouth snapped shut.
He seemed to finally notice he was surrounded by the dance team girls.
"Why's that guy here?"
"Probably came to see Eun-ha."
The girls giggled.
They thought this was some lover's quarrel.
Not even close.
I knew exactly why An Seung-ho had come looking for me.
"What are you standing around for? Why'd you come?"
"...How'd you hold out in that clinch back then?"
Yeah. That's what he wanted to know.
He'd been completely overwhelmed by technique in sparring.
If you're even a little serious about fighting, you'd want to learn the moves that beat you.
But.
"You came all the way here just to ask that?"
There was no reason to spill it to this unlikable con artist.
"Killing two birds with one stone. Here, take this."
He handed over a plastic bag with some signed T-shirt.
"What's this?"
"Acceptance T-shirt. Meant to give it on audition day, but the rep forgot. Pass these to Yang A-ri and Park O-yu-na too."
The shirt was pretty.
Not workout material, though.
Perfect for pajamas.
"Tell the rep I said hi."
"Not gonna teach me the technique?"
"Why should I?"
"I came all this way."
"I never invited you."
"......"
His lips pouted out.
That it?
'What a lightweight.'
I mean, did he just expect me to hand over techniques like that?
Back in my day, if a gym turned you down for lessons, you'd show up the next day with coffee, clean the place spotless, whatever it took.
No grit like that.
As he turned to leave, Pyo Hye-in clenched her fist behind him in silent threat.
"Tch."
Not wanting a lecture, I decided to humor him a bit more.
"If I teach you the technique, what can you do for me?"
"I could teach you what my coach taught me."
"Nothing I wanna learn from you."
"...Then I'll do whatever you want."
I had no intention of getting chummy.
Nor did I enjoy bullying people.
But there was one thing.
Seemed like he could be useful right now.
"Come to our gym tonight. I'll show you how it works."
"And what do I have to do in return...?"
Over the past week, I'd prepped for the dance team's performance.
The more I learned the choreography, the more the sensations sank in.
Sensations etched into high school girl Go Eun-ha's body.
It was definitely working.
That was just a feeling, though.
Objectively, I couldn't tell.
That's where An Seung-ho came in handy.
"Nothing major."
He'd taken a hit from me once already.
"Just take one punch."
"?"
This would let me objectively compare my punching power.
The festival night wound down, and An Seung-ho headed to Deathworm Gym.
He got permission from the coach and joined practice.
A few fighters eyed him.
As an up-and-comer drawing attention, they probably wanted a spar too.
'Suddenly a training camp...'
No real pressure.
What actually made An Seung-ho tense was Go Eun-ha.
"You made it."
Go Eun-ha appeared in changed clothes.
Even in plain workout gear, she had this aura.
Maybe because of that stage costume he'd glimpsed earlier.
Go Eun-ha snapped her fingers right in front of his eyes.
"Where you looking? Focus."
"...I am focused."
Her attitude was as rude as ever.
Two years younger than me, even.
Not that a student should complain about manners.
"Try a clinch."
The real lesson began.
The gym's other fighters peeked over, listening in.
Proof her techniques were top-notch.
"What would you do here?"
"Anything goes. Neck clinch and knee strike, or underhook to ground."
"That's when you've got breathing room. You were already gutted back then."
In sparring, An Seung-ho's abs had taken heavy damage.
Go Eun-ha was assuming exactly that scenario.
"Heads up—this isn't some special technique. More like reading the opponent."
"Reading...?"
"Predicting what move they'll try and reacting."
"So you knew what I'd do?"
"Obviously."
"How?"
Go Eun-ha let out a faint sigh.
Signal of frustration.
Cold sweat trickled down An Seung-ho's back.
Did I miss something?
"It's obvious. You were losing the striking. Damage piling on your abs. Breathing heavy. Huffing like you're broadcasting 'I'm hurt' to the nation—how could I not know?"
"It wasn't that bad—"
"You wanted to go down because it hurt. Your go-to is leg trips and pushes. Timing so honest, you could live without laws."
"......"
Fight IQ aside.
Her reads were no joke.
Felt like getting schooled by the gym owner who'd seen it all.
"See? Just control the hips here, and defense gets way easier. Even if you leg in, I'm stable. Your posture crumbles. Now push."
Whoosh—
'Right, this sensation.'
Identical to sparring.
Like pushing at empty air.
"That's it. You know the techniques. I just read the board."
Exactly as she said.
He knew this defense too.
Just couldn't preempt like her.
"You can predict opponent moves mid-fight that accurately?"
"Because you were that cornered."
Somehow anticlimactic.
Expected a secret technique.
This seemed more like a trick.
A prodigy’s parlor trick.
"Figure out the rest yourself. I can explain, but can't input it for you."
True enough.
Nothing to say to that.
"Thanks for teaching me."
"Grateful? Then headgear up."
Swish swish—
Go Eun-ha rolled her shoulders, loosening up.
"...You really doing this?"
"Duh. Chicken out, it's two."
"Who said chicken? Just asking. Ahem."
Lesson was short.
Payment would be shorter.
"Move exactly like back then. No punching—just solid guard. But body moves like throwing a one-two. Got it?"
Nod.
Go Eun-ha wanted punch power measured.
Compare to sparring, see how much stronger.
'What am I, a punch machine?'
Humiliating offer.
But knowledge was on the line.
Fine, one hit.
'Not aiming for the chin anyway.'
Unlike sparring, headgear on.
Guard up tight.
Her fist would hit the guard.
Even a cold fish like her wouldn't go for the jaw.
"Ready?"
"Yeah. Ready."
Absurd ritual.
But whatever.
Won't hurt much.
No big impact.
Common sense.
Punch power doesn't jump in days.
Through solid guard and headgear? Knocking him down?
'Zero.'
Approaching zero.
"Here goes."
Go Eun-ha signaled.
One-two.
He moved on timing.
Hands stayed put, as promised.
Pop—!
Counter flew like a guided missile.
Her killer glare pierced his pupil.
ZZZzt—
'Huh?'
World's sound cut out.
Everything shook like a noisy TV.
Then vision flipped.
Familiar gym vanished.
Blinding lights. Wire cage octagon. Crowd silhouettes.
An Seung-ho's clothes turned fight gear.
And before him.
Go Eun-ha, hair braided tight.
Her backhand counter incoming.
Slow arc, like swimming in honey.
'Dodge.'
Brain's desperate order.
Body too sluggish.
Can't dodge.
Can't block.
This punch's end: one calculated fate.
'Lights out.'
KABOOOOOM—!!
Fist smashed jaw dead-on.
Jawbone shattered, brain rattled.
Power cut, An Seung-ho flopped like a marionette with strings cut.
-WAAAAAAAAAAH!!
Crowd roar crashed like a tidal wave.
KO replayed endlessly.
That perfect, artistic punch.
Artistic pinnacle.
.
.
.
.
"Hey, con man. How was the punch?"
Go Eun-ha's voice rang,
"......?"
Back to reality.
"Why zone out suddenly?"
Chicken skin prickled.
An Seung-ho hadn't fallen.
All a split-second hallucination.
Snapping to, he ungloved and pressed the spot.
It throbbed where the counter hit.
"Way stronger."
Go Eun-ha's punch had powered up.
If he'd eaten this in sparring.
"If this hit my chin, I'd be dead."
Spar would end there.
"Effort wasn't wasted."
Go Eun-ha muttered, satisfied.
That was her review.
"Business done. Get lost."
An Seung-ho didn't budge.
Couldn't lift his feet.
He stared at Go Eun-ha a moment, then asked.
"You gonna be an idol?"
"What bullshit is that?"
"No, saw you nailing the dance today..."
"That's fight training too."
"What does idol dancing have to do with MMA?"
"Trade secret."
"......"
What a weirdo.
Anyway, An Seung-ho was relieved.
Such talent not fighting? Criminal.
An Seung-ho asked.
"High School Fighting King prelims in about three months, right?"
"Yeah."
"If you're free till then, swing by our gym. Plenty of spar partners for you."
Go Eun-ha shook her head firmly.
"Might cause trouble if I go."
"Trouble? Worried my gym folks'll avenge me? They're all chill."
"Meaning I'll cause trouble. I'm a brutal sparrer."
Endless bravado.
But backed by skill—not empty talk.
"What then, amateur bout?"
"You'll find out soon."
"Find out what?"
"Just know it when it happens. Now scram. Ten seconds or I beat you."
'Her mouth's as rude as ever.'
"10. 9. 8......"
Scramble.
An Seung-ho grabbed his bag and bolted at light speed.
Gye Geum-ok. 19.
Nine months ago, defected with parents.
Elite athletic background led to MMA training.
Now active as a female fighter in the small org Fight Club.
"Geum-ok, Fight Club lined up a bout. Can you do it? Kinda tight on time..."
"Time an issue?"
4-0, all wins.
Total fight time: 2 minutes 35 seconds.
Four KOs in under three minutes.
"They're handing out free money. Gotta fight."
She crushes opponents.
They pay.
Zero risk for her.
"Good call. Opponent's a good matchup too."
"Who?"
"Go Eun-ha. From that High School Fighting King audition. Amateur boxer, no record. Easy win for you."
Gye Geum-ok smiled brightly.
"Oh, I saw that! Those skinny limbs—like tackling her'd launch her past Seoul!"
Both fighters underestimated each other.
Match set up fast.
(Go Eun-ha School Sports Festival Dance Performance Scene)