Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Chapter 1: I'll Teach You Self-Defense Techniques
"Ha... I'm screwed."
I'm screwed. There was no better way to describe my current situation. Just looking at the empty interior of the Hapkido dojang right in front of me made the words slip out.
Me, Joo Seong-hyeon. 27 years old. Hapkido instructor and Dojang Master. Membership count: Zero.
"Fuck."
I never thought it'd crash and burn like this. This Hapkido dojang was my dream. The memories of messing around with friends at a Taekwondo dojang back in elementary school were so vivid and fun. I wanted to create a place like that.
So I got into a sports university. Not to become an athlete, but to study as a trainer and instructor, earn my certifications, and graduate smoothly. Then, a bit later, I enlisted in the air force and was honorably discharged after full service. Right when I was about to start job hunting to open my own dojang...
"Our Seong-hyeon... from now on, do what you want... live happily... smiling... don't... cough... tie yourself down too much..."
"...Yeah. I will."
"Good..."
Grandfather passed away from old age. When I was little, with my parents always busy, Grandfather took great care of me. He loved me the most among his grandkids, and I adored him right back. Thanks to that, I couldn't hold it together that day. I cried my eyes out.
It was peaceful in the end; he closed his eyes with a warm smile. But his concern for me until the very last moment overwhelmed me with emotion, and I bawled like a baby.
A few days later, once I'd calmed down a bit, Father handed me a bankbook.
"What's this for?"
"You said you wanted to open a dojang. Grandfather left this money to help you out. Use it well."
"Huh? No way, how could I take this? What about Aunt and the others...?"
"You think Grandfather left nothing for me and your aunts? We've all gotten our shares, so don't worry and just take it."
"Still..."
"If you don't want it, Dad'll just buy a new car..."
"I'll take it, please."
"You little punk."
Luckily, our family got along great, relatives included. And honestly, though he downplayed it, I knew Dad had chipped in a bit more to Grandfather's gift. Thank you, Grandfather. I'll do my best.
Thanks to him, I saved a ton of time. I dove straight into market analysis with Dad. Meanwhile, I helped out at a college senior's Taekwondo dojang, deepening my skills as an instructor and master. Instead of a generic Taekwondo spot, I focused on Hapkido, which I'd always enjoyed more personally.
And so, after a year. I managed to open a decent Hapkido dojang in a neighborhood with fair foot traffic. When I first opened, I was brimming with hope, my heart full to bursting with excitement. We ran opening events and such, and soon neighborhood kids started signing up left and right.
These local dojangs often survive by taking in elementary school kids as a sort of after-school spot. That was my plan too, so I welcomed them with open arms. I even promised instructor spots to some college juniors job-hunting, thinking I was finally settling in...
"What a total failure."
It all fell apart in an instant. Not a single member left. I could nitpick all the reasons, but the biggest culprit was the Taekwondo dojang not far away. I knew about it when I chose this spot. But it was so successful it was practically at capacity, so I figured there was enough pie for both of us...
"That shameless dojang master prick..."
Right after I opened, the Taekwondo dojang master suddenly expanded. He'd probably been thinking about it for a while. Hesitant to pull the trigger without knowing how it'd go until he saw kids coming to my Hapkido place and decided to commit.
From that moment, I started withering away. No way to beat a Taekwondo dojang rooted here for over a decade. They had rock-solid connections with local parents, and for parents or kids, they only came to me because the other place was full. Once spots opened up, no reason to stay. One by one, the kids transferred over. Targeting kids meant no adult interest either.
Now, a year in. I'm left guarding this empty Hapkido dojang alone.
Yeah. That's how I went bust.
"......"
Night was falling. I sat blankly in the middle of the dojang, reminiscing about the past and facing the hopeless reality. There was nothing left to do. I'd hustled with promotions, even tried blog ads in desperation, but no dice. Inquiries came occasionally, but actual visitors? Rare. And even those who showed up would sigh at the empty space and leave.
No answers in sight.
"...Rent's a waste. Maybe time to call it quits."
I was exhausted. If the dojang tanked, it wouldn't ruin my life. Rent paid so far, some loans, but deposits would cover it. Sorry to my parents who believed in me... but it's time to let go.
"If it weren't for that dojang master prick... No. It's my own shortcomings. No point blaming others."
It stung deep, sorry to Grandfather too. But life's long; chalk it up as good experience. I achieved the dream of opening a dojang, even if just for two or three months. Teaching kids and watching them play was fun.
"Maybe grab a solo drink tonight... Clean up tomorrow."
Forcing positivity, I stood up. Threw a jacket over my dobok. Still early spring, chilly, but my one-room was right next door. I turned off the computer I'd left on for no reason, along with the dojang lights.
"......"
The dim interior felt so cold... and lonely. My heart was bitter. Couldn't shake the attachment, so I stared at the empty space a bit longer before turning away.
"...Cold."
Outside, the chill bit into my bones. They said this year was brutal; spring already, but no joke. Hit the convenience store then home as I stepped out.
"Huu... So cold..."
In front of the building next door, a homeless old man huddled, shivering in the cold. Fifties or sixties maybe. Filthy, pitiful enough to tug at the heartstrings just looking. Pity surged, but I looked away. My own nose is numb... what can I do? Better not get involved. Sad is sad, but I'm no saint pulling out my wallet for every sob story.
Kept glancing, but forced myself to ignore it. Headed to the store, loaded up on booze and snacks. Normally it'd be a beer or two and chips, but somehow I filled the basket fuller than I could handle alone.
"32,000 won."
Soju, beer, sides... Dojang in ruins, and here I am splurging. Paid anyway. Instead of heading home, I went back to the dojang. More precisely, to the old homeless man shivering in front of the building next door.
"Heu... Huh?"
As I approached, he squinted, like what the hell, never expecting help.
"You'll freeze sleeping here. Follow me."
I opened the dojang door.
Gulp, gulp...!
"Kaa...!"
"You sure it's okay to crash here? What if I steal something?"
"Steal whatever if there's anything worth taking. Place is bust anyway—nothing left."
"Wasn't gonna... You're giving me a dobok and booze too. Thanks, but folks shouldn't trust strangers."
"Trust? ...Gulp... Who said anything about trust? Told you, nothing to steal."
I'd brought the homeless old man into the dojang. Gave him a new dobok since it was cold, and we sat in the middle laying out drinks. No big thoughts. Just what it was. Nothing to steal anyway, so let the guy crash comfortably for the night. Not some noble urge—whim, really. Looked too pitiful, and it wasn't hard to help.
And then.
"Place looks clean; you must've kept up with cleaning... Why'd it fail?"
"That shady Taekwondo dojang master over there suddenly expanded. Making bank, can't he share a slice...? Ugh, too frustrating. Have another drink."
"Sounds good."
Pour.
Trading drinks, venting my guts—it eased my chest a bit. Stranger, gone soon anyway; easy to talk freely. Couldn't bare my soul like this to friends or family; too embarrassing. Everyone knew the dojang was struggling. Their careful concern around me just made me feel worse, hurt my pride. Lately, I'd been avoiding them. So chatting with the old man soothed me some.
Plus, his speech oddly matched Grandfather's when he was spry... somehow more...
"But hey."
"Gulp... What now?"
"Gotta stick to just kids? Don't wanna do adults?"
"Well... Gulp... Whew. Wanted to when young... but honestly, doesn't matter now."
"Oh yeah?"
"Kids are cute and all... but when they don't listen, nothing's tougher. Shattered some illusions. Still cute, though."
"Adults okay then?"
"Adult, kid—whoever signs up, I bow and welcome 'em."
"Heh... Female members better? Rub 'em the right way while teaching... right?"
"This guy..."
His flushed, sly grin drew a hollow laugh from me. Sure, as a guy, pretty girl signing up? Thoughts cross the mind. But in this day and age, one slip and rumors fly—closed for good, or worse, sex crime charges tanking life.
"Pretty girl? Sure. But one's like hitting the lotto."
Guy talk over drinks? I could play along.
"Right, right. Pretty girls make teaching worthwhile. Skip Hapkido, teach something else... Got a girlfriend?"
"......"
"Nope. Don't tell me you're solo forever?"
"...Wanna keep drinking?"
"Sheesh... tsk tsk. Wasting life without a girl? Built like a bear too."
His genuine pity almost brought tears. Who wouldn't want a cute girlfriend? Partly 'cause I'm awkward with girls, but truth is, no one around worth dating. Well... not none pretty or decent, but... fuck it.
"Have a drink."
"Yeah. One for you too, Seong-hyeon. Lemme pour."
"...? Thanks."
Did I tell him my name? Whatever. After that, we kept drinking and talked at length. Pointless chit-chat, whatever came to mind. Got tipsy fast. Not a pro drinker, but as an athlete type, I'd held back—long time since mixing soju and beer.
"Ugh..."
Thud.
I ended up sprawled on the dojang floor. Too buzzed to recall the rest. As my eyes grew heavy. Last thing I saw: the homeless old man, smiling kindly.
"......Live enjoying it... smiling."
Right before collapsing. The blessing-like words echoed in my ear, familiar somehow.
"......"
Next day. Waking in the dojang, a strange sensation enveloped my body. Same old dojang, but felt like part of me now.
"Old man's... gone?"
Floor spotless. Did he clean before leaving? Like no one but me yesterday. Checked around for theft—tools, doboks, all there. Except the one I gave him. But something felt off.
"No hangover..."
No hangover, body felt great. And somehow.
"......What the?"
Back office seemed to glow. Nagged at me. Wandered in blankly; the member management computer was the source. Mesmerized, I powered it on. And. Boot-up auto-launched the program—with a new tab and popup I'd never seen.
"What is this?"
[Dojang Master Joo Seong-hyeon's Fun and Happy Dojang Raising! Starting now!]
"To develop your dojang, you need members first, right?"
(!) [Invite one 'female' as a Trial Member]
Reward: ???
Just like. A quest popping in a game.