"Ah, Ow. Hold On. That Actually Hit Bone. Wait, You Said You'd Go Easy—"
"Ah, ow. Hold on. That actually hit bone. Wait, you said you'd go easy—"
Bam.
Kim Jin-seo's fist slammed into Gu Jun-hyeok's jaw. He crumpled to the mat like a ragdoll. He hadn't lost consciousness, but his legs were trembling uncontrollably—he was completely drained.
And just like that, the sparring match ended with Kim Jin-seo's victory. A clean win through strikes alone, no submissions needed.
"Ah, damn. Nearly bit my tongue. You know that's attempted murder, right?"
"You said you weren't gonna wear a mouthguard."
"Huh? Did I?"
Gu Jun-hyeok had ditched the mouthguard to provoke her. No headgear either. Which meant every hit hurt that much more.
Lying spread-eagled in the center of the ring, he let out a hollow chuckle.
"Man, this is driving me nuts. My skills just aren't improving."
"They have. Better than before."
Kim Jin-seo unwrapped the hand tape from her fists, saying it casually. Gu Jun-hyeok stared up at her with dazed eyes.
"How much longer till I can beat you? Feels like an eternity."
"Three years."
"Oh? Not bad."
"Kidding. Fifteen years."
"Fifteen? That's... No way. Even that's not enough?"
Gu Jun-hyeok scratched the back of his neck and shot to his feet. His jaw had taken dozens of direct hits, leaving his head spinning and his legs wobbling. Sweat plastered his hair to his forehead.
The gym trainer, who'd been watching from afar with arms crossed, strolled over.
"You okay, Jun-hyeok? I told you to just wear the headgear, man. Stubborn as hell."
"Yeah, should've listened. His jaw was shaking like crazy."
"Of course it was after those hits. Jin-seo, ease up a bit in sparring. You're gonna kill the guy."
Kim Jin-seo, wiping away the scant sweat with a towel, nodded silently. The trainer looked at her approvingly. Gu Jun-hyeok was one of the top guys in the gym, yet she'd toyed with him and won. The trainer was grateful this prodigy had signed up at his place.
"Jin-seo. There's a tournament coming up. Wanna enter?"
"What kind?"
"Just your standard tourney. You place, it'll go on your record."
Her eyes flashed at "record."
"Yeah, I'll do it."
"Cool. I'll sign you up."
The trainer pulled a pen from his pocket and jotted something in his notebook. He tapped it idly for a bit, then raised an eyebrow as if remembering something.
"Oh, right. Jin-seo, if you're entering, quit that habit. The sm—"
"Ah, Coach."
"...Anyway. Just take care of your health."
Kim Jin-seo cut him off urgently. The trainer nodded like he got it and let it slide.
"What? You smoke too, Kim Jin-seo?"
Gu Jun-hyeok asked, eyes wide. His voice was so loud the whole gym turned to stare at her.
She shot him a chilling glare.
"I don't."
"Then what was that? Coach said to quit something."
"Dunno."
She kept glaring, her face blank and tone flat, but somehow she looked pissed.
"Fine, whatever. No need to murder me with your eyes."
"One more spar?"
Kim Jin-seo smiled. Terrified by it, Gu Jun-hyeok backed away slowly.
"Uh... Oh! Family emergency. Gotta go. Next time for sparring~"
He bolted from the gym. Kim Jin-seo resumed her workout immediately—jump rope, shadowboxing, heavy bag, mitts. Some members requested spars, but none lasted a round before passing out. No one could match her.
After nearly four hours, she showered and left.
The gym was a 50-minute walk home. Most would bus it, but she ran the whole way. Partly for endurance, mostly to clear her head.
"Huh."
Then she spotted a familiar back. Even in the dark, his silhouette stood out. Come to think of it, he always seemed to stand with his back to her in the shadows. Back then, and now.
"Do Seon... woo."
She started to call out but stopped. According to Gu Jun-hyeok, Do Seon-woo lived in a villa. But this wasn't a villa. Staying out late at a friend's? Relative's? Speculation swirled, but nothing certain. Asking directly felt awkward—might make him think she was stalking him.
"..."
By then, he'd walked off. Too late to catch up. She turned and ran another route.
Fifteen minutes later, her chest burned, breath ragged. She used to run 30 minutes straight no problem, but lately her stamina had tanked. Cardio was definitely down.
Clink.
Bent over catching her breath, her cigarette pack fell from her inner pocket. She hesitated, then pocketed it and kept running.
No matter how far she ran, the nagging thoughts wouldn't shake loose. Her breath grew labored, heart stuttering, but she didn't stop. It was pure self-punishment. Even she didn't know what demon she was trying to outrun.
*
Slap.
Someone smacked my cheek. My senses snapped back. I tried to bolt up, but pain throbbed everywhere—I collapsed back with a weak groan.
A burly giant loomed, staring blankly at me.
"You're awake, you lunatic."
His blunt curse irked me, but what could I do? I just lay there.
Testing my voice, it came out fine—dry mouth now moist somehow.
The giant sighed heavily.
"Hey, you. What the hell were you thinking rushing in there?"
I didn't answer, scanning the room instead. Hospital bed. No clue which one. Time lost. IV in my right arm. And my chest felt empty.
"Ah, uh. Where...?"
The mementos I'd grabbed, Baal's jaw, the trumpet—gone. Pockets empty. My heart lurched like a broken clock.
"Looking for this?"
The giant pulled them from his pocket. Dizziness hit; breath shortened.
He examined them casually.
"You didn't go in there just to grab these—"
Snatch!
I yanked them back into my chest. Heart pounding wildly.
"Did you open it?"
The holy items were one thing, but the mementos couldn't fall into anyone else's hands.
He chuckled incredulously.
"Nah, didn't peek. What's your deal?"
"..."
"Don't wanna talk? Fine. Never met a nut like you before."
The "before" bugged me, but I let it go. Good he hadn't opened the box.
Phone dead—cracked screen. No time check.
"What time is it?"
The giant, halfway standing, checked his watch awkwardly.
"Just past 11. Got plans?"
11 p.m. Left Jeong In-ah's around 9—two hours out cold. Fast recovery for charging into a fire barehanded.
I eased my aching body up. Pain everywhere, but walkable. Villa burned, so crash at the chapel tonight.
As I stepped forward, he blocked me.
"Whoa, hold up, psycho. Where you going like that? Cancel any plans. Treatment's not done."
"I'm fine."
"Don't push it. You can walk, sure, bu... yeah, you can."
Pluck. I yanked the IV and strode out. Slower than usual, but manageable. Better than twisted joints from Preservation or puking blood half a day from Granbwa.
"Hey! Not stopping you, but take this."
His booming voice hit my back. He lumbered over, business card in hand.
"If anything feels off, don't tough it out—hit the hospital."
"Got it."
"Don't ignore it, or you'll croak. Pain hits, call here. I'll cover costs."
I took the card. "Seoul East Knight Commander Han Dae-ho." Simple: white paper, black text, paladin logo, no frills.
"What's with the box?"
Memorizing the number, Han Dae-ho asked.
"Me... mementos."
Nearly said "mother's," but stopped. Safe? Suspicion?
"Me? Me what."
"My mother's mementos."
Acting hesitant. Father's actually, but for my cover, mother's fit better. Miserable lying even about this.
"Ah... yeah. Go. Call if it hurts."
His eyes softened with pity, then he looked away awkwardly. I bowed and left.
Dark alley, sparse lamps. Knees buckled randomly, but I powered through.
Rip.
I tore Han Dae-ho's card and tossed it.
[Why rip it after he went through the trouble?]
Legba sounded puzzled.
"Not gonna call anyway."
[You never know. Might need it someday. Like he said, could end up back in hospital.]
"Memorized the number just in case, but this'll heal with rest."
[Reckless, but fair.]
I grinned. And walked the empty alley.
(To be continued next time)