The Greatest Fighter of My Life
Rachel Kim arrived at the meeting place thirty minutes early.
Ten years in the industry, and this had never happened. She was usually the one who made the other party wait. A matchmaker showing up first and fretting herself sick was unprofessional.
But today, professionalism and everything else went out the window.
Something she had thought lost for months had called her of its own free will.
Rachel sat by the window in the hotel lounge, tapping her fingers on the table. Her coffee had already gone cold. Inside her head she was already running through dozens of scenarios.
Contract terms.
Weight class.
Debut stage.
Marketing angles.
And above all—that internet video.
The one where bare hands took down a hundred people, the one everyone had laughed off as CGI. If that was real. And if that monster was the man coming to meet her now.
...Stay calm.
Rachel took a sip of the cold coffee. Excitement was poison. In a negotiation, the first to show their hand lost. No matter how coveted the prize, she had to keep her expression under control.
Just then, a stir rose near the lounge entrance.
Rachel lifted her head.
A man was walking in.
The lounge ceiling suddenly looked unusually low. No—it wasn't the ceiling that was low; the man was that big. He had to duck his head slightly to clear the doorway, and his shoulders nearly filled the entire width of the frame. Passing staff, mid-delivery of drinks, flinched and looked up.
He looked even bigger than he had at the hospital.
Rachel's heart skipped a beat.
...He's here.
Beside him was a small young woman. Short black hair, compact build. Barely more than half his height, she hurried along with quick little steps to keep up.
Rachel stood from her seat and put on a professional smile.
"Mr. Han Daewong. Thank you for coming. How have you been?"
"……Yes. Fine, thanks to you."
"I was so glad to hear from you. Honestly, I was worried sick thinking I might never get to meet you again."
Rachel made small talk as she offered her hand for a shake.
"And this is……?"
"……Ah, I'm Kang Seo-yeon. I'm this guy's…… no, Mr. Han Daewong's companion."
The young woman answered primly. The way she almost called him "this guy" before hurriedly correcting herself was somehow cute.
"Nice to meet you. Please, have a seat. Both of you."
Rachel gestured to the chairs. As she did, she naturally shook hands with Han Daewong.
And the moment she clasped that hand, Rachel was certain once more.
It was a massive hand. Her entire hand disappeared inside it. Thick and hard—and above all, the calluses embedded across the back of the hand and the finger joints. These were a fighter's hands. And not those of an ordinary fighter.
Even while shaking hands, the man barely applied any force. Carefully. As if he knew that squeezing hard would crush the other person.
That carefulness was what made it even more chilling.
...Just as I thought.
Rachel kept her smile and swallowed a silent exclamation of awe.
The three of them sat. The man made the chair look small, and the young woman settled primly beside him.
"Order something to drink. The cake here is pretty good too."
When Rachel slid over the menu, the young woman's eyes sparkled. But when the man showed no particular interest, she shut her mouth primly again. The two of them were strangely in sync.
Rachel decided to get to the point. Dragging things out too long would be unprofessional.
"I'll be direct."
Rachel leaned forward slightly.
"I want to put you in the UFC, Mr. Han Daewong."
The man showed little reaction. But the young woman beside him rounded her eyes.
"I was certain from the moment I first saw you at the hospital. A physique like this comes around maybe once a decade. No—honestly—I've never seen anything like it. In my entire life."
Rachel paused briefly there.
"And…… that video that's been circulating for the past few days."
The man's shoulders shifted ever so slightly.
Rachel didn't miss it.
"The video of bare hands taking down a hundred people. Everyone said it was CGI. But I believe that's you, Mr. Han Daewong."
A brief silence settled over the lounge.
The man didn't deny it. The young woman awkwardly averted her gaze. That reaction alone gave Rachel her answer.
...So it was real.
A shiver ran down her spine. Whether it was excitement or fear, she couldn't tell. Probably both. In her entire career as a matchmaker, she had never encountered a prize like this.
Whew.
Rachel barely managed to quell her excitement and return to a cool head.
Calm down. No matter how good the product, it was meaningless if you couldn't get it on stage. And the UFC wasn't a stage just anyone could step onto.
"All right. Then let's talk practicalities."
Rachel took out her tablet.
"To stand in the UFC, there's a lot to go through. Identity verification, medical exams, doping tests, and a certain amount of fight record. There's a mountain of administrative hurdles. First, could I see some ID? Basic document checks come first."
At those words, the man hesitated.
She could see him exchanging looks with the young woman. There seemed to be some difficult circumstances.
...What is it.
Rachel's instincts sharpened.
Ten years in this business. A fighter who hesitated at the mention of documents almost always had something—a criminal record, an unclean identity, or a history with drugs.
Surely not. Not a flaw in this diamond.
Then the young woman beside him spoke up.
"Ah, about that…… it's a bit complicated."
She chose her words carefully.
"This guy, uh…… you know about the Monster Bear incident? That bear that showed up."
"……I do. How could I not."
It was an incident that had rocked the entire world. A Kodiak bear weighing over a ton, a sealed-off mountain, a UFC fighter injured. The reason Rachel had come to Korea wasn't entirely unrelated to that incident.
"He's a survivor of that incident."
"……A survivor?"
"Yes. He was found at a smuggling organization's facility, having lost his memory from the shock. His identity was unknown too. So right now…… the government is in the process of creating an identity for him."
Rachel's eyebrows rose.
"Creating…… an identity?"
"Yes. Since he's a person of unknown identity, the administrative procedures for official registration take quite a while. Fingerprint checks, cross-referencing with missing persons, reviews…… it can take months."
The young woman shrugged.
"In the meantime, he still needs money to eat and live, right? So…… temporarily, he did some, uh, part-time work kind of thing."
Part-time work.
Rachel felt a strange sense of dissonance at that word. The video of bare hands launching a hundred people and the word "part-time work" just didn't match. But looking at the young woman's expression, it seemed like a signal not to dig further.
Rachel didn't press.
In this business, sometimes ignorance was bliss. Especially with a prize this expensive.
Instead, she rapidly ran the calculations in her head.
Unknown identity, amnesiac survivor. Government currently creating an identity. Takes a few months.
At first glance it was a headache. But Rachel found the corners of her mouth lifting instead.
...This is actually clean, isn't it.
A forged identity would be a problem. It would blow up someday. But a real identity created directly by the government? Cleaner than a forgery, with nothing to criticize. And the title of "Monster Bear Incident Survivor"—
As marketing, it was a gold mine.
The man who survived a bear steps into the octagon.
Headlines were already forming in Rachel's mind. Fighters with a story sold for a high price. And this man already had a story attached—the incident the whole world had watched.
"……When do they say it'll come through? That identity."
Rachel asked.
The young woman looked at the man. For the first time, the man opened his mouth.
"……Not long now. They contacted me two days ago. Said it's almost done."
A low, heavy voice.
Rachel cheered inwardly. Perfect timing.
"Good."
Rachel closed her tablet.
"So the identity issue will be resolved soon? Then that's fine. I'll handle everything else."
"……Everything else?"
The young woman asked.
"Fight record, medicals, doping, licenses. Every procedure needed to step into the octagon. That's my job. There's a reason matchmakers exist."
Rachel spoke confidently. In truth, the biggest mountain had been the identity. If that was resolved legally, the rest she could pave with her connections and experience.
There was just one catch.
The medicals.
How that abnormal physique would come out on detailed exams. Muscle density, bone density, grip strength… If the results far exceeded human norms, he could be suspected of doping.
...Well, there are ways around that too.
Rachel filed that away in a corner of her mind. Innate talent. Mutant-level body. Plenty of ways to package it. If it came down to it, through a doctor she knew.
Anyway, for a prize of this caliber, that much effort was worth it.
"Mr. Han Daewong."
Rachel looked the man straight in the eye.
"I'll ask you honestly. Do you…… want to step into the octagon?"
The man was silent for a moment.
Then he slowly nodded.
"……Yes."
A short answer. But that single word carried a strange weight. Not simple desire, but something long held.
Rachel looked into those eyes.
Gentle eyes. But somewhere deep inside, something beast-like lurked. That same sense of dissonance she'd felt at the hospital. Something else wearing a human skin.
But to Rachel now, even that dissonance was attractive.
...This one's going to cause a stir.
Rachel was certain.
The moment that man stepped into the octagon, the fighting world would be turned upside down. And as the matchmaker who discovered him, her name would go down in history.
Rachel extended her hand.
"Welcome, Mr. Han Daewong. ……No."
The corners of her mouth rose beyond a business smile into something genuine.
"Looking forward to working with you. The greatest fighter of my life."