Golden Cat
Golden Cat.
"We're here."
The place Seo-yeon stopped was in front of a shabby commercial building. No sign. The first floor was a shuttered karaoke joint; the second, a billiards hall long since closed. From any angle, it was just a dead building.
"…Here?"
"Yeah."
Seo-yeon slipped into the alley beside it.
Narrow. I had to twist my shoulders just to squeeze through. At the end of the alley stood a single rusted iron door. Seo-yeon knocked three times.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A moment later the door opened. The man who came out was covered in tattoos. He saw Seo-yeon and nodded—then looked up at me.
"…"
He looked up for a long time.
"…What the hell is this."
"I brought him."
"…A new guy?"
"Yeah. My friend."
Seo-yeon answered lightly. The tattooed man's eyes swept the width of my shoulders—shoulders broader than the alley itself.
"…He's big."
That was all he said before stepping aside. Beyond the iron door, stairs led down into the basement.
One floor.
Two.
Three.
The farther we went, the louder the noise rose to meet us. Murmurs. Cheers. Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. The sound of something being hit.
…
The smell changed. This wasn't the air of the surface.
Sweat. Blood. Cigarettes. Alcohol. Concrete. All of it tangled together.
It was close to the wild scent I'd known in the mountains as a bear—and nothing like it. The mountain smell had been nature. This smell was human. A wilderness made by people.
The stairs ended. A door opened.
…
Wide. Far wider than I'd expected. I never would have guessed a space like this existed underground. The ceiling was low, but the room stretched out sideways in every direction.
And in the middle of it sat a ring.
Not an octagon—just a square. No ropes. Barely more than lines taped on the floor. People ringed it in a dense circle.
A hundred?
No—more than that.
They were shouting, drinking, waving money. At one side of the ring a man with a microphone was yelling.
"Blue corner!! Third knockdown!! Can he hold on!!"
In the ring two men were fighting, blood streaming, and just then one of them smashed the other across the face.
CRACK!!
Blood sprayed.
"It's overrr!! Red corner TKO!! Tonight's beast is RED!!"
The crowd roared, and bundles of cash went flying into the air.
…So this kind of place was sitting under the city.
Under the city where, in my past life, I'd worked overtime and ridden the subway home. Under the city where I'd order fried chicken, put on a UFC stream, and think, Damn, that has to hurt.
This world had been here the whole time.
Not fists on a screen—real fists trading blows. No referee. Rules so thin they barely counted. Hit the floor and it was over.
…What kind of place is this supposed to be.
But the strange part was this: I wasn't scared. I wasn't disgusted either.
If anything—it felt oddly familiar.
The tension I'd felt in the mountains as a bear whenever I crossed another animal. Survive and you fight. Fight and blood comes. Blood smells, and another animal comes for it.
This was that.
A mountain made of concrete. A place where beasts wearing human shapes lived.
…Maybe this is the kind of place that fits me.
A bitter smile pulled at my mouth. A bear becomes a man—and ends up crawling right back into the wild?
"What are you doing? Come on."
Seo-yeon walked ahead. Familiar steps. She slipped through the crowd like it was nothing, her whole body saying this place wasn't strange to her at all.
I followed.
People parted as I walked—because of my size. Same reaction as at the shelter.
But the eyes here were different. Shelter people had been afraid.
These people were pricing me.
How long would that thing last if he got in the ring.
What kind of odds would a bet on that frame pay out.
Eyes like that.
They didn't see a person. They saw product.
…
So this was that kind of place. Maybe Seo-yeon had survived somewhere like this.
Probably… since she was little.
I was still turning that over when—
"Seo-yeon!"
Someone called her name. From the staff-only stretch beside the ring, a man waved and came over. Mid-thirties, maybe.
First impression.
…Weird guy.
Leather jacket, two buttons of his shirt undone, hair slicked back except for one strand that had fallen loose. His walk was unhurried—except it wasn't unhurried so much as performing unhurried.
The muscle in his shoulders. The thickness of his wrists. The natural length of his stride.
This man was someone who could handle himself too.
"Oh~ so you really came after all~"
He reached to ruffle Seo-yeon's hair. She slapped his hand away clean.
"Don't touch me."
"Heh heh, still got the fastest little hands, don'tcha~"
Easy. The air between them was easy. You could tell they'd known each other a long time.
Then his gaze landed on me. And stopped.
His eyes changed.
Close to the way Rachel had looked at me—but a different grain. Rachel's eyes had been a businessman's. This man's eyes were a fighter's.
He looked at my shoulders. My neck. My arms. My hands.
Then my eyes.
Three seconds, start to finish.
Right after that, the corner of his mouth pulled up in a long, slow smile.
"…Hey~ Seo-yeon."
"What."
"Who's this friend of yours?"
Seo-yeon pointed at me.
"Han Daewong. My friend."
"A friend? You brought a friend?"
The man laughed. His eyes didn't. They were still reading me.
"Daewong-ssi~ good to meet ya~"
He stuck out his hand. I shook it. My hand swallowed his.
Squeeeeze.
His eyes narrowed to slits. Under the handshake he was measuring my grip strength—I felt the slight push of force in his fingers.
Testing me.
I let go of as much power as I could. I couldn't have his hand breaking.
"…Hands are huge, ain't they~"
"…I'm just naturally like this."
He released my hand and looked at Seo-yeon.
"Hey~ where'd you pick this monster up from."
"Don't call him a monster. He's gentle."
"Gentle's just the outside."
He looked at me again.
"Inside's a different story, I bet."
"…"
Accurate. Inside, I was still a bear.
"Oh, right. Introductions."
Seo-yeon pointed at the man.
"This is Park Do-hyun, oppa. Mid-level manager around here."
Park Do-hyun waved.
"Manager's a stretch—more like the odd-jobs guy, really. Set up the cards, handle the fighters, clean up the ones who start trouble now and then. Heh heh."
He played it modest, but in a place like this that role didn't belong to a lightweight.
"But Seo-yeon—did you tell the boss you were comin'?"
Seo-yeon's face tightened for a fraction of a second. I didn't miss it.
"…That's not something you need to worry about, oppa."
"Aigoo~ goin' rogue again. You keep that up and you're gonna get an earful."
"I'll handle getting scolded myself."
Park Do-hyun clicked his tongue but didn't push further. It was the reaction of someone who knew how to handle Seo-yeon—the kind of distance only long acquaintance could manage.
…These two.
Not just people who'd known each other a long time. This was someone who'd been beside her for all the years she'd survived this world.
Park Do-hyun tried to sling an arm over her shoulder. Seo-yeon slipped out of reach and jabbed her elbow into his ribs.
"Too close."
"Ow~ you really got no affection, you know that."
"It's not no affection. It's called personal space."
Park Do-hyun rubbed his stomach and grinned. The face said it hurt; the eyes were laughing.
"…You two seem like you've known each other a long time."
When I said it, Park Do-hyun flicked a glance at Seo-yeon. She turned her head without a word.
Just a flicker of a moment.
Park Do-hyun's expression shifted. The easy smile from a second ago vanished, and something heavy cut across his face. It was gone almost as soon as it came—back to the usual mask—but…
"Ihihihihihihihi…"
Park Do-hyun laughed. Not the same laugh as before. Same sound, different temperature. A laugh buying time. A laugh still choosing what to say.
"…Well. We've known each other a while, yeah."
A short answer. I didn't press.
Something I'd learned as a bear: reading a mood by its scent. I wasn't a bear anymore, but faces carried something close enough. Between these two, there was a story they weren't bringing out.
Then the speakers cracked to life.
── NEXT MATCH. WOMEN'S DIVISION MAIN EVENT
The crowd began to stir. The cheering swelled.
"Oh, here we go!"
"Golden Cat!!"
"She winning again tonight!!"
…Golden Cat?
I had no idea who that was, but the popularity was no joke. Half the room was chanting the name.
Golden Cat…
Without thinking, I glanced sideways.
Bright amber eyes. Short black hair.
…That nickname would suit Seo-yeon perfectly.
A light thought. Whoever it was, golden eyes and catlike movement—I figured the name would fit her just fine if someone stuck it on her.
…But wait.
The crowd's eyes weren't pointed at the ring. They were pointed this way.
…Huh?
I looked at Seo-yeon again. The ease from a moment ago was gone; her face had locked up in an instant.
She flicked a glance at me, then glared at Park Do-hyun—and the look on her face said she hadn't wanted me to find out.
…No way.
"Park Do-hyun."
"…"
"I didn't say I had a match today."
Park Do-hyun scratched his head. The easy looseness from earlier was gone; for the first time he actually looked flustered.
"Th-that's… the boss suddenly told me to put you in, so what was I supposed to…"
"I told you I was bringing someone. I said today was just for watching."
"I-I know that, okay? But the boss won't listen. If the Golden Cat sits out, the crowd halves."
Seo-yeon clenched her teeth. Her fists closed, callused fingers going white. Come to think of it… at the hospital, Seo-yeon had said something to me.
That there was a world where nicknames came before names. So this was that world—and Golden Cat was Seo-yeon's nickname?
"…Hah."
Seo-yeon let out one breath and pulled off her hoodie. What appeared under the baggy clothes was a hard body—small and lean, muscle pulled tight with no spare flesh. Thin veins stood out along her forearms.
…This little kid?
Seo-yeon looked at me one more time and gave a crooked smile. Underneath it sat a resignation that said nothing I can do about it.
"…Just watch."
With that, she walked toward the ring.
And in that moment, her walk changed.
That step on the balls of her feet. The walk I'd seen in the hospital corridor. The back I'd watched leave the convenience store.
What I hadn't recognized then was this: it had always been a fighter's walk, headed for the ring.
── GOLDEN CAT!!
The second Seo-yeon stepped into the ring, the crowd exploded. Cheers, whistles, feet stamping the floor. Under the basement lights her amber eyes flashed gold.
From the opposite corner her opponent climbed in—a woman a full head taller than Seo-yeon. The weight gap was obvious. The crowd murmured.
"That's Shin Ha-yul. Face is insane again tonight."
"Both of them could eat off their looks—why are they fighting down here."
"If anyone's gonna snap the Golden Cat's twelve-win streak, it's Ha-yul."
"But Seo-yeon vanished for a while and then just shows up."
"Maybe her condition's off. Ha-yul could take it tonight."
Then I caught the betting odds floating around us. Shin Ha-yul's side was the lower number. Meaning this little kid was strong enough to erase a gap that size.
Park Do-hyun came and stood beside me.
"…Surprised?"
"…Yes."
"Looks small and weak, right. But that kid holds the women's win-streak record."
"Win streak?"
"Twelve straight. Most in women's division history."
"…Twelve?"
"Yeah. That little one, see…"
Park Do-hyun's eyes went serious.
"…was born in this place. Grew up in this place."
"…"
"So this whole world is basically all she's got."
I looked at Seo-yeon in the ring. The kid who'd borrowed five hundred won at the vending machine. The kid who'd bought me a triangle kimbap and called it paying off a debt. The kid who'd given me my name.
…had lived her life in a place like this.