The Visit
Over the course of that month, Seong-min had not simply sat on his hands.
Yoo Han-soo. Whenever he could spare the time, he had conducted his own investigation into the man who had betrayed the company where the class president's father had been CEO — the ringleader who had poached every skilled technician and defected to a rival firm. Not everything came to light, but he managed to piece together the rough outline.
Yun Jong-gyu — a senior executive who had long served as one of Yoo Han-soo's core officers — had crossed over to the competition as vice president, receiving exceptionally generous treatment. And when he left, he had taken every key employee with him.
Yun Jong-gyu had managed critical operations at Yoo Han-soo's company, including the client accounts. He had been more capable than expected, and good at his job. That was why Yoo Han-soo had trusted him and entrusted him with important work.
But at the decisive moment, he abandoned Yoo Han-soo. He even moved the clients against him, engineering a promissory-note crisis. Yoo Han-soo had tried to stop the bleeding by turning to loan sharks, shouldering the debt himself — but in the end the company went bankrupt. And he lost his life.
Yun Jong-gyu, who had walked into a rival firm as vice president under lavish terms and taken the core talent with him, was clearly the ringleader. Seong-min wanted to move against him immediately — but he didn't. Finding Yoo Han-soo's daughter, the class president, wherever she was now, mattered more. And he was still hardening his own preparations.
A month was not a short stretch of time. It was more than enough to get ready.
Seong-min reviewed his own stats once more. The Physicality stat needed no discussion, and the others were much the same. He had a solid grasp of them all. What mattered most in the present situation was Martial Power.
Martial Power brought physical transformation. It evolved the body as a whole. He had felt that properly the day he rescued Min-hyeok.
He had never considered himself a poor fighter. After the promise he made to the class president, he had stopped living like a pushover. He refused to take abuse lying down. When kids mocked him for being an orphan and tried to pick on him, he did exactly as she had told him — he stood his ground. Experience piled up, and his skill grew naturally with it.
But that had been nothing compared to what came next. When he raised Martial Power to sixty, the movement and combat ability he displayed far surpassed anything he had known. The confirmation came when he learned that the sparring partner he had faced at a mixed martial arts gym was an active fighter ranked fifth in the country. At that level, he had more than enough skill to save Min-hyeok. And he had. Dealing with the thugs who had locked Min-hyeok up had barely cost him any effort. The change Martial Power sixty delivered was that profound.
And now his Martial Power exceeded two hundred. The gap between sixty and two hundred was enormous. Even so, he had not stopped there. In the time between, he had poured everything into raising it further.
Today was no different. He worked gombang jobs hard, banked the experience, leveled up — then stopped by the gym to train. That earned more experience, which led to more level-ups. He invested every Stat Point into Martial Power. He knew this was the time for it.
Over that month he had dug deeper into how the class president's father, Yoo Han-soo, had died. He had steadily earned money through gombang work. And through training at the gym, he had leveled up further still.
Name: Lee Seong-min
Age: 24
Education: Hancheon High School Graduate
Level: 852
Points: 0
Appearance: 185
Vigor: 174
Martial Power: 302
Physicality: 200
The result: Level 852. And Martial Power had finally broken three hundred.
How much stronger he had become, he still could not fully feel. But the figure in the mirror was enough to draw admiration from anyone who looked. Muscle definition had grown strikingly sharp; his broad shoulders and artistically sculpted proportions formed a body of superbly balanced muscle. Not the bulky mass of a bodybuilder — but a physique any observer would compare to a Greek statue, every muscle seated in perfect ratio.
How much force could this body generate? Even at Martial Power sixty, he had casually dominated a sparring partner ranked fifth nationally in MMA. Now his Martial Power exceeded three hundred.
Seong-min sat waiting in a café and took a sip of iced americano through the straw. The bitter coffee taste came through clean.
How many minutes had he waited? A chime sounded as the front door opened, and a man in a jumper stepped inside. He scanned the room, then walked over with both hands shoved in his pockets and sat down.
"How did it go?" Seong-min asked.
The man pulled a hand from his jumper pocket. In it was an envelope.
"Take a look."
Seong-min opened the envelope, drew out the papers, and examined the results. His expression hardened as he read.
"I found her. She's in a pitiful state. After the family collapsed, she was sold off through loan sharks about three years ago. I tracked down exactly where she is now — it just took some time."
"Thank you for your work."
Seong-min produced an envelope of his own and set it on the table. The man tucked it away without checking the amount.
"Anything else you need done?"
"Nothing."
"If you need help again, get in touch."
He took a sip of the iced americano in front of him, stood, and left the café.
Seong-min looked at the papers again. Written there was everything that had befallen the daughter left alone after her family fell and her father was gone — including her current location.
Three years…
If she had been sold three years ago, that lined up with the time she had come to visit Haeng-bok. She had cried so bitterly there. Now he understood. In that moment, Haeng-bok had been the only place where the class president could find even a scrap of comfort.
Seong-min folded the papers and slipped them back into his coat. He took one more sip of coffee through the straw, then rose from his seat.
It was time to move.
"Business has been dead lately…"
A massive man who looked well over a hundred and ninety centimeters stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it with a lighter.
"It's the crackdown period. Once that passes, the customers will pick up again," said the man standing beside him with a smile.
"How's Black Rose?"
"Same as always."
"Keep a close eye on that bitch. She's the ace of this place."
"Obviously. Even the new girls who came in recently don't come close to her."
The big man nodded. He managed this whole district — not a water dealer, but a pimp running women, plain and simple. He was also a member of the organization, stationed here as the man in charge.
"So when are you gonna let me have a go? Every time I see her, it drives me crazy…"
"Listen, kid. Even water has an up and a down. Sure, the sweet juice is mostly gone — but compared to the worn-out bitches around here, she's still decent. You have any idea how hard it was for me to pull her over here? The harder it was, the better we package her and make money off her."
"So once the last of that juice is sucked dry, you'll let me taste her? Not before you take the first crack yourself?"
"You little son of a bitch —"
The big man flared his eyes, and the other man flinched.
"Just wait. I'll give you a shot soon enough."
Of course, he would take care of business himself first.
Just then a woman in her early fifties approached.
"Excuse me…"
"What? Not taking customers?"
Looking uncomfortable, the woman glanced around before speaking.
"It's about a customer…"
"What about him? Just take the money."
"Well — he wants Black Rose."
"Black Rose?"
A glint entered the big man's eyes.
"How the hell does he know Black Rose is here?"
"That's what I asked. He said she was really good last time…"
The big man understood. So this was one of the VIPs Black Rose had entertained before. She had been sent here once the sweet juice ran dry — and one of them hadn't forgotten her, and had come looking again.
"How much did he offer?"
"Five sheets."
"Five sheets?"
The big man was startled.
"Five hundred thousand?" the man beside him asked — and the big man's face twisted the moment the words left his mouth.
"You fucking idiot — use the brain in your skull! Five sheets means five mil, you shit-for-brains moron!"
"You don't have to curse at me —"
"What was that?!"
He flared his eyes again, and the man shrank back.
"He really said five mil?"
"I already took two mil from him."
She held out an envelope. Inside was a thick stack of fifty-thousand-won notes. The big man tucked it away and nodded.
"Send her in. If he's a VIP, we treat him right."
"Wash her up and send her through?"
He waved a hand as if to say do it. The woman withdrew, and the big man checked the envelope again.
"See that? Even with the juice gone, there's still money to squeeze out of her."
"Damn right. Heh heh heh…!"
He had wanted the first go himself, which was a shame — but five mil in one shot was worth letting it pass. Three mil of it would end up in his own pocket anyway.
"Just wait here… I'll send her right in."
The man nodded and sat down on the bare floor. There was no bed — just bare boards. No furniture, no television. Only a worn-looking pillow and blanket laid out.
Is Black Rose really the class president?
The man was none other than Seong-min. According to the information, Black Rose was definitely her. But confirmation came first.
How long did he wait? A knock, then the door opened, and the woman came in smiling.
"Black Rose will be here any second, so how about settling up…?"
"I'll confirm first. You could be scamming me."
"Scamming? It's really Black Rose."
"I'll know when I see her."
"Fine. Confirm, then pay the rest."
A short while later, word came that the girl had arrived, and the woman smiled.
"She's here~"
She stepped out and returned with a young woman in tow.
"You said you've seen her before, so this should be right?"
Seong-min stood up from the floor. He stared at the woman who had entered. After a long look, he nodded and held out another envelope.
"Well then, you two have a nice time~"
Beaming, the woman snatched the envelope and left the room.
Just the two of them remained.
The woman called Black Rose stood rooted in place.
"Should I… take my clothes off?"
A blank face. Not a flicker of emotion. That was not all — her focus was dull and ashen, as if she had let go of her mind. Of herself.
"Do you… know who I am?"
She blinked and looked at Seong-min.
"Aren't you… a customer?"
She answered. Seong-min had raised his Appearance stat until anyone would call him handsome. Even the orphanage teachers and the director would not have recognized him easily without being told. Third grade of elementary school — that was the face she would remember. He was fully grown now; of course she might not know him.
But Seong-min was different. He had never forgotten. Not once.
The woman before him. Long hair. Expressionless face. Ashen eyes that would not hold a sharp focus, as if she had abandoned living. She was beautiful — breathtakingly so, true to the nickname Black Rose. But there was no life in her face or voice. Looking at her felt like looking at a pretty doll.
The presence and atmosphere were nothing like the class president he held in his memory. And yet — somewhere in that face, the bold, spirited girl from childhood still remained.
"Should I undress you…?"
When he only kept staring, she seemed to find it strange and asked again.
Then the closed door slammed open. Men filled the doorway.
"You think you can walk in here and pull a scam?!"
Seong-min looked at the big man who stood well over a hundred and ninety centimeters.
"The amount's short, you fucking customer —"
Thwap, thwap! The big man slapped the envelope against his palm, radiating intimidation.
"This envelope was supposed to have three mil left. Why the hell is there only one —"
CRACK!
A brutal sound rang out. The other men who had been posturing behind him could only blink at what had just happened.
"Ghhrrrk…"
The big man, hit square in the face, collapsed to the floor with his features caved in — trembling violently, pouring blood, shaking as if seized by malaria.