Sudden Namsan Fortress Battle Challenge
"Fuck my life, seriously..."
Han Dae-jin was thrown off by the unexpected attack during prime time evening hours. Whether Yoon Ha-rin had reacted to his lap time video or not, she'd uploaded her record from last winter on the Avante 3 Sport: 1:52.222. It was worlds apart from Han Dae-jin's time—straight-up GT200 race car level. Even accounting for winter conditions, it was a time no semi-pro could touch without serious skill.
The Avante 3 Sport record immediately blew up in the circuit chats and Club Assa group messenger room.
Han Dae-jin was at a loss amid the flood of reactions. That's when Kim Ji-hyun's call came in.
"I'm off work, so get your ass to the classroom."
It was 11 p.m., but Han Dae-jin grabbed his laptop and the SD card from the action cam and headed straight to Kim Ji-hyun's classroom.
Upon arriving, Han Dae-jin blinked in surprise at Kim Ji-hyun in a suit—the kind she never wore for track days. Her hair was a mess, her face worn out, but she greeted him warmly, snatched his laptop, and dove right into the in-car footage analysis.
"Why the fuck are you so slow? You're losing like 10 kph to Yoon Ha-rin at every goddamn corner, you know that?"
Han Dae-jin was caught off guard by how straightforward she was being.
"Huh? It already feels pretty fast to me..."
"That's 'cause you're still a noob, you dumbass."
"So what do I do?"
"First, ride shotgun with some real maniacs so you grasp your car's true limits. Second, memorize that G-force feel from riding with them, then push to that edge knowing you won't flip."
Han Dae-jin's face darkened at her words. Soon, Kim Ji-hyun pulled up Yoon Ha-rin's in-car footage and broke down her line choices corner by corner. She talked herself hoarse explaining how Yoon Ha-rin aggressively leveraged the LSD to shove the nose in, set the motion, and carve through.
"So she does have an LSD..." Han Dae-jin finally muttered, checking the specs in her YouTube description.
"Exactly. You're not ready for her yet." Kim Ji-hyun lit a cigarette as she said it.
The two stepped out of the classroom and wandered to a nearby McDonald's. They each ordered a burger and iced Americano.
"You finally off work now?" Han Dae-jin asked.
"This is my life." Kim Ji-hyun swept back her hair and chomped into her Big Mac.
"You do law 'cause you love it?"
"Nah. My family's been judges since the Japanese colonial era. My brother went into real estate and biotech, so as the eldest daughter, I inherited the family business. Fun fact: I passed the bar on the first try. Unlike some nine-timers who couldn't hack it to president."
Han Dae-jin snorted a laugh.
"What do you think you'd have done without the lawyer gig?"
"Dunno. Probably something like Dakar Rally or WRC."
Han Dae-jin nodded—that tracked.
They finished their burgers and headed back to the classroom. As they walked, Kim Ji-hyun paused, then grabbed his hand and hooked her arm through his. Han Dae-jin froze for a second but soon leaned in, stroking her cheek.
"You'll smear my makeup, you fucker."
"You'd look good bare-faced too."
"All-nighters, chain-smoking... at least I don't drink. And I get some treatments?" She cracked a small smile.
Back in the classroom, Kim Ji-hyun asked what he was up to tomorrow.
"It's Friday today."
Oh right—Saturday was basically here.
"Let's take your Avante N with the inch-down. Never driven an 18-inch one."
Han Dae-jin followed her to the underground parking. Before climbing in, Kim Ji-hyun eyed the N Festival official 18-inch wheels and 245/40/18 SUR8Z tires he'd swapped on.
"Nice swap."
"Official spec, pretty much."
"Some idiots run Ramadan knockoffs or weird Chinese shit."
She slid into the driver's seat. Han Dae-jin buckled in passenger-side and she spotted the FIA-certified fire extinguisher he'd mounted.
"Thorough little shit." She smirked, fired it up.
Right after startup, she told him to nav to Namsan Fortress parking lot. He punched it into Android Auto, she slammed to N-mode, and accelerated hard enough for the tires to scream.
At the first light, she killed stability control and prepped to rip.
"You kill traction control back then?"
"Yeah, but it was scary as hell."
"Not bad for a scaredy-cat. Wanna floor it?"
Light turned, full throttle. She blasted onto the Dongbu Expressway, threading cars razor-thin. Han Dae-jin, of course, filmed it all.
Before Namsan, she pulled into a gas station and topped it off with premium—Han Dae-jin thanked her profusely amid the click of her heels.
"Huh?"
"Gimme your shoes, fucker. You got some in the car."
He handed over his driving shoes. She chucked her heels in the back and slipped them on.
"You don't have fucking athlete's foot, right?"
"Clean as hell."
"Good."
She hopped back in. At Namsan's entrance, she attacked from the jump. Blasted the uphill straight, then dove deep into the right-hander, kissing the yellow curb. S-bends: crossed lanes, grazed the inner wall like it was a ditch. Next right: braked late with a savage heel-toe that made Han Dae-jin flinch, then turned in sharp. Left hairpin smooth as butter, then whipped right past a pole with inches to spare on the mirror. Cleared the continuous hairpins, danced lanes through the final S, reverse-ran the speed cam easy, then powered up the right uphill with barely a lift.
Through the tunnel to the rotary lot. Kim Ji-hyun stretched as she got out; Han Dae-jin was still sweating bullets.
"Hey, why's Jin Na-hee vice-boss but barely active? She brings in members sometimes."
Han Dae-jin mentioned her racing girl and round girl gigs.
"Right, and weekdays at her folks' chicken joint. Wait—look at that."
She pointed: Jin Na-hee's purple-wrapped Morning Z35 sedan pulling into the lot.
Jin Na-hee spotted them while parking, pulled up, and hopped out with a grin.
"You ignore meet calls but show up here? So busy."
"C'mon, I'm triple-jobbing: parents' chicken shop, racing girl, round girl."
"Noona, you here to run the mountain too?" Han Dae-jin asked.
"Yeah, squeezed in some time. Perfect—you at the meet tonight?"
"Nah, giving this fucker original sin lessons."
Jin Na-hee burst out laughing.
"Wait, what? You two are that close?"
"Fuck, taking it literal again. I'd pimp him out but my age and conscience say no."
"Hilarious. Taking a breather before another run?"
"Yeah, gotta teach him downhill later."
"Cool. Word's spreading about Dae-jin's skills among the car crowd lately." Han Dae-jin winced a bit.
As they chatted, a pack of tuned Stingers and G70s rolled up and parked nearby, heading their way.
"You guys the Club Assa admins?" The apparent leader asked.
"Yeah. Han Dae-jin here."
He bowed politely.
"Since you're here, straight to business. You call yourselves the fastest club, so no hesitation on a challenge, right?"
A out-of-nowhere battle declaration—Han Dae-jin was totally blindsided.