Top Beast Survival: Knocking Out the Pro
"This can't be right!"
Jang Seok-gi was protesting fiercely to the staff. It was a matter of pride as a former pro, and he seemed furious at the production team for pitting him against an amateur.
Crokoach, who had been doing commentary, came rushing over after hearing the commotion.
"Aigoo, Mr. Jang. We didn't plan this without any thought."
"So you're telling me to go punch it out with an amateur? If I win, I'll get flak for beating up a regular guy, and if I lose, I'll get trashed for getting beaten by one! And what if I get injured—what then?!"
Crokoach frantically waved his hands at Jang Seok-gi, who was huffing and puffing.
"Participant Lee Min-ho has some martial arts training! We're not just throwing people together willy-nilly!"
"He's trained in martial arts?"
Jang Seok-gi turned to look at me.
"Is that true, Min-ho?"
"I've learned the basics."
I nodded, and Jang Seok-gi hesitated for a moment. Crokoach jumped in with an eager explanation.
"And we're not planning a full UFC-style match anyway. There's the injury risk and fairness issues."
"If you knew that..."
"We prepared an octagon ring for the visuals, but we'll use boxing gloves—no kicks allowed."
To prevent serious injuries, they'd use boxing gloves instead of UFC open-fingered ones, limiting the fight to strikes and ground work. From a pro's perspective, it felt like pointless restrictions, but at least the production team had put some thought into it.
"Haa..."
Jang Seok-gi sighed in frustration. At this rate, he might forfeit out of professional pride. His hesitation was probably because he was worried about me. He couldn't half-ass it once the match started. Winning like that would just make things awkward for him.
In the end, I stepped forward.
"I'm fine with it."
"Huh? Even so..."
"If anything, this ruleset gives me a bit of an edge."
At that, not just Jang Seok-gi but even Crokoach, who had been persuading him, stared at me like I was crazy.
Why? Gonna cancel the show?
"The martial art I learned was boxing. With these rules, I've got confidence."
"Do you have any amateur fight experience?"
"Nah, but I did some sparring gigs overseas. People recognized my skills."
Another fake credential added to my life story. But it was a white lie to save the show from falling apart—the production team owed me big time. Even a pro with strong ethics like Jang Seok-gi might reconsider with this much.
He hesitated, then said to me,
"...You sure you're okay with this?"
"Of course. It's an honor to fight you, Mr. Jang."
"I can't go easy on you."
"That's what I'm hoping for."
His eyes burned with intensity as he looked at me.
Yeah, if we're doing this, let's do it right. Viewers wouldn't want a boring finale anyway.
Crokoach chattering away beside us was completely ignored now. We were just predator and prey. Who'd get hunted would be decided soon.
"The winner's already decided."
"Yeah. Good thing he dropped early? Better than getting pummeled."
Whispers like that floated around.
'Pummeled? Who said anything about getting pummeled? Hmph!'
Chaeni glared at the other participants chatting nearby. It felt like they were jinxing it. As the only person she'd gotten close to in this show, she hated hearing me as fodder for their gossip.
'Please don't get hurt...'
She clasped her hands anxiously, eyes glued to the wall-mounted monitor.
On screen, a shirtless Lee Min-ho and Jang Seok-gi were climbing into the ring. Visually, I looked favored—taller, with a solidly built frame. But the problem was my opponent: a former pro.
The match began.
The two, standing a bit apart, advanced boldly to the center. Jang Seok-gi threw a jab to test the waters.
Whoosh.
I dodged without even raising my guard—just a slight head tilt—then stepped in and landed a straight.
Thwack!
He'd let his guard down, assuming I wouldn't strike first, and took it clean on the cheekbone, staggering briefly.
Even in that golden opening, I held back on follow-ups. To him, it felt like a signal: 'Get serious.'
Crunch.
Gripping his gloves tight, flames ignited in Jang Seok-gi's eyes. He solidified his guard and charged back.
Pop—pop—
Gloves slamming into my guard exploded with air bursts. He unleashed a barrage, refusing to let my head peek out.
As he aimed a hook at my side to break my stance and open my guard—
I'd been watching through the gap in his arms and fired a jab at his exposed chin.
Thud—crack—
Taking another face shot, Jang Seok-gi frowned at me standing firm despite his hook to the body.
'That's no ordinary durability.'
He figured his only shot was waiting for me to drop my guard and expose a weakness. Grappling was off the table—my weight class was no joke, and even if tackled down, boxing gloves limited ground options.
Hoo— whoosh—whoosh.
He deliberately lowered his guard to bait my attacks while maintaining pressure.
I caught on quick.
I smirked, playing along by dropping my guard and diving into the exchange.
Smack—pop—
Flesh-meeting-glove thuds and air cracks rang out viciously. The rapid trading wore down Jang Seok-gi's stamina.
Spotting his punches slowing, I deliberately exposed my chin.
'Now!'
His hook flew toward my jaw—and my cross counter shattered his guard, landing true.
Mutual clean hits.
"......"
Every participant in the waiting room held their breath watching the match.
The grueling slugfest had birthed a decisive blow. No more chatter about predetermined winners or easy beatdowns.
I stepped back once or twice but quickly regained balance.
And Jang Seok-gi...
Thud.
He crumpled straight down—knocked out cold.
Lee Min-ho wins.
Woooaaah—
"Kyaaah!"
The waiting room erupted in cheers at the unforeseen outcome. Chaeni jumped up, screaming in delight.
'Oh no... he's too cool!'
Her eyes fixed only on me flashing a V-sign to the camera.
Ugh, putting on that dramatic act to win was exhausting.
I'd gone all-out on the theatrics for maximum drama, and now I was drained. Part of me wanted to end it quick out of spite for the production team's scheming, but I held back for Jang Seok-gi's pride. He wasn't at fault anyway, and I liked his manly demeanor.
From his side, the restricted rules were a handicap, but he'd put up a fierce fight—good enough to save face.
Instead, I devoured every bit of the production's hard work whole.
'Thanks for the meal~'
Right on cue, Jang Seok-gi approached after medical clearance.
"Congrats. I was arrogant."
"Nah. It was a rigged amateur bout with all those handicaps."
He shook his head.
"What I felt in the ring wasn't amateur. A win's a win."
"...Thanks."
"If you're ever interested in UFC, hit me up. I'll push for you."
We shook hands again and swapped contacts.
"Min-ho!"
Turning at the call, I saw Chaeni rushing over, face flushed.
Hm?
She threw herself into a hug.
"Congrats on the win! I was so shocked when they announced a fight for the finale..."
"Ah, thanks."
With eyes on us, I settled for patting her back instead of hugging back. Realizing she'd embraced me, she flushed deeper, jerking away in surprise.
Still shirtless, I had her gaze darting everywhere as she stammered.
"Uh... so, um! YouTube! When you start your channel, tell me first! I'll totally help!"
"Got it. I'll definitely call on you."
I savored her flustered state for a bit before speaking up. The constant formality felt awkward now.
We were close enough to drop it, right? She was my age anyway.
"Wanna switch to casual? Saw we're the same age last time."
"Y-yeah! Let's! Hehe..."
She beamed like dropping honorifics was the best thing ever. First impression was calculating, but you never know people.
"Time for ending shots and post-interviews! Gather up!"
With that, we wrapped the show and headed home.