Don't Disappoint Me
The private training center of a Las Vegas hotel.
It was a spacious facility stocked with the latest equipment, the walls lined with posters of legendary Las Vegas big matches from years past.
There, Geum Hyuk picked up a jump rope.
He knocked out five hundred skips at an easy rhythm, then flowed straight into three rounds of shadowboxing, checking his form in the mirror as he moved. Jab, straight, hook, uppercut. The combinations linked together like water.
Hwang Jinsu held up the mitts.
"Keep it light. Don't overdo it before the fight."
It was just a session to check timing and accuracy.
BANG! BABABABANG!
The sound of restrained power snapping into the mitts rang out crisp and clean. They wrapped it up in thirty minutes, and Hwang Jinsu tossed him a towel.
"Good. Condition looks solid."
"Body feels lighter than usual."
"Rest up today. Take it easy."
"Got it."
Geum Hyuk went back to his room, pulled up Volkoff's fight footage, and dove into analysis. He was so absorbed that before he knew it, the sun had started to dip. Outside the window, the neon signs of Las Vegas began flickering on one by one.
Being cooped up in the room was starting to get to him.
Only after the sun had fully set did Geum Hyuk leave his room. He figured he'd loosen up with some light roadwork. He tightened the laces on his running shoes and slipped out of the hotel.
The Las Vegas night streets. Neon painted the night sky. Music spilled from the casinos, mixed with the laughter of tourists.
Geum Hyuk started running at an easy pace — a slow jog along the Strip, keeping his heart rate down. His gold hair glittered under the neon, and passersby kept glancing his way.
As he passed a casino, a blonde in a dress, smoking a cigarette, looked him up and down.
"You alone? Wanna hang out?"
She waved and winked. Geum Hyuk just gave a slight nod and kept going.
At a club entrance, women waiting in line whispered among themselves. A redhead among them spotted him and gestured.
"What are you doing tonight? Have a drink with me."
Geum Hyuk didn't stop. As he passed the line, a woman asked with curious eyes.
"Are you a model?"
"Boxer."
He answered as he brushed past. A disappointed sigh followed behind him, but it didn't register.
Volkoff.
His mind was occupied with nothing but his opponent two days from now. Thirty-one wins, twenty-eight KOs. The Russian Tank. An iron-wall guard and devastating power.
As he ran, he ran fight simulations. A style very similar to the Ivan character from Fighter of Legend.
A frontal assault would be suicide. Accumulate damage to the body, then strike the moment the guard opens.
How far had he run, lost in the zone? He turned down an alley a little off the Strip, meaning to take a quieter route with less traffic. Unlike the glittering boulevard, the atmosphere here was dark and desolate.
Then —
"No...! Please...!"
A scream. Geum Hyuk's stride stopped.
Under the faint glow of a streetlamp deeper in the alley, a woman was backed against a wall — a young woman who looked East Asian. Surrounding her were ten men in total. Tattoos, ripped jeans, metal jewelry. Classic gangster look.
"C'mere, pretty. We just wanna have a little fun."
"Don't be scared~"
The men grinned as they closed in. The woman backed away, terror written across her face. There was nowhere left to retreat.
Geum Hyuk's eyes narrowed.
Can't just walk past that.
He stepped into the alley.
"Hey."
The men turned. A gold-haired, tanned East Asian with the eyes of a beast was walking toward them.
The one who looked like the leader sneered.
"The hell are you?"
"Get away from her."
"Or what?"
"You'll be going to the hospital."
The men burst out laughing.
"This guy's insane!"
"You're gonna take on ten of us by yourself?"
The leader pulled a knife from his pocket.
"Wrong choice, pal."
Geum Hyuk didn't flinch. If anything, he took a step forward, then settled into a boxing stance.
How close is the fight, and this happens.
Irritation surged. But he couldn't leave that woman.
Just as Geum Hyuk was about to move, a voice came from behind him.
Geum Hyuk turned. A man stood at the mouth of the alley — a massive silhouette, well over six-foot-three, with broad shoulders. The streetlamp didn't reach his face. But just standing there, at ease, the air itself seemed to grow heavy.
At that overwhelming presence, Geum Hyuk's instincts screamed.
What the hell......?
Warning bells went off like mad in his head. A fighter's instinct was telling him: this man was stronger than anyone he had met so far.
"Stay back."
The man said it as he passed Geum Hyuk, then stood in front of the gangsters.
The gangsters sneered.
"What, another one? Hero day today?"
The leader swung the knife.
In that instant, the man moved. His movement was like water flowing. The moment the blade cut through empty air, his hand wrapped around the leader's wrist and twisted.
Crack.
Before the scream could even leave the man's throat, an elbow grazed his temple. Just a graze — and the leader's body toppled sideways, the knife clattering to the ground.
The remaining nine stood there, stunned. But only for a moment. As if they'd rehearsed it, they all charged at once.
A fist flew. The man's torso tilted like a reed in the wind. The moment the punch cut through empty air, a knee drove into an abdomen. Then a kick came rushing in, and his palm snatched the ankle. He twisted, and the body spun through the air. A dull thud as a back hit the ground.
This time two came from both sides at once. The man took a step back, making the two collide with each other, then put two punches into the tangle. He moved as if dancing, dropping the gangsters in an instant.
A few went down, and the rest hesitated. Instinctive fear had locked their feet. But the man didn't stop. He slipped between them like water. Every time he moved, one more went down.
Screams and groans. The sound of bones breaking. Amid all that noise, only the man moved without making a sound.
The last one. The biggest of them swung a fist. The man tilted his head slightly to dodge and threw a punch.
CRACK.
The giant couldn't take even a single blow. He crumpled sideways.
Geum Hyuk blinked. In an instant, all ten gangsters were sprawled on the ground. Some couldn't even groan — completely unconscious. Meanwhile the man hadn't shed a single drop of sweat, and his breathing wasn't even labored.
......What the hell was that.
Goosebumps ran down Geum Hyuk's spine. As a pro boxer, as a combat fanatic with over thirty thousand hours in the game, he could say it with certainty.
That was beyond the realm of humans.
Not Seo Minjae. Not Volkoff. Not Baek Gangho. None of them were at that level. It was a different dimension.
The man turned, and his eyes met Geum Hyuk's. Even in the dark, a piercing gaze. A predator among predators.
"Take the woman and go."
The man said it shortly. Geum Hyuk snapped out of it and approached the woman.
"Are you okay?"
"Y-yes......"
She answered in a trembling voice. Fortunately she didn't seem injured.
"Can you walk?"
"I-I think so......"
Geum Hyuk led her out of the alley. Once they reached the main street, she kept bowing her head.
"Thank you so much...... I don't know how to repay you......"
"Don't worry about it. Get home safe."
The woman caught a taxi and left.
Geum Hyuk turned, and the man was coming out of the alley. The two of them faced each other. Under the neon lights of Las Vegas, his face was finally visible.
A sharply cut jawline and cheekbones that gleamed like honed blades. Expressionless eyes that held the depth only someone standing at the absolute peak could possess.
Geum Hyuk's eyes widened.
......Yu Seonghun?
A face he'd seen hundreds of times in Fighter of Legend. One of the game's major characters. The man who bore the title of Fist Emperor — one of the few characters in the official lore whose every stat gauge was maxed out.
Yu Seonghun turned away.
Leaving only those words, he receded into the darkness.
Don't disappoint me. A single line tossed over his shoulder without looking back.
Don't tell me he came to watch my fight?
Geum Hyuk stared for a long time at the place where he'd vanished. His heart was pounding.
Yu Seonghun's afterimage wouldn't leave his mind. A wall even farther away than Volkoff. A mountain he'd have to climb someday. An opponent he could never meet within the confines of boxing. But he was certain they would face each other again, on a different stage.
He organized his thoughts as he slowly made his way back to the hotel.
The moment he stepped into the lobby, Geum Hyuk's feet stopped.
Someone was sitting on the sofa. A woman with black hair cascading down to her waist, skin white as porcelain. A purity on a completely different level from the women who'd approached him on the Strip.
Ha Ije.
The moment she spotted him, she shot to her feet.
"Hyuk!"
"......Ije?"
Geum Hyuk asked blankly.
"What are you doing here?"
Ha Ije stood in front of him and crossed her arms. Her expression was complicated — half glad, half angry.
"......You're late. Where've you been?"
"Roadwork."
"Roadwork? At this hour?"
Ha Ije narrowed her eyes at him.
"You've got something on your face."
She wiped at his face with her hand. Something like dust came off — must've gotten it in the alley earlier. She took a step closer.
"Did something happen?"
"......"
Geum Hyuk didn't answer, and Ha Ije sighed.
"You don't have to tell me. But......"
She reached out and brushed the dust off his jacket.
"You can't get hurt. The fight's the day after tomorrow."
"......I know."
"If you know, why are you wandering around this late."
Her voice trembled.
"You made me worry."
Geum Hyuk looked at her. She hadn't even adjusted to the time difference, and she'd been waiting in the lobby.
"......When did you get here?"
"Not long ago."
"Why."
"What do you mean, why."
Ha Ije turned her head.
"I came to cheer for the champion."
Geum Hyuk smiled.
"And take this."
She pulled over a large duffel bag sitting beside her and held it out. Inside it was packed with multivitamins, muscle-relaxing gel, athletic tape, ice packs. At the bottom she'd even packed massage oil and an acupressure stick.
"......"
"What. Why are you looking at me like that."
It was heavy. She'd packed all this, one by one, and brought it all the way here. Something twinged in his chest.
"......Thanks."
Ha Ije averted her gaze.
"This much is nothing, anytime..."
An awkward silence settled. They walked together to the elevator. Geum Hyuk pressed the button.
"Where are you watching the fight from?"
"Coach Hwang got me a seat in the stands. VIP."
"I see."
The elevator arrived at the lobby. Geum Hyuk stepped in, and Ha Ije followed. He was about to press the thirtieth-floor button when her hand got there first, pressing the same one.
"......Same floor?"
"Yeah. Room 3012."
"I'm in 3015."
"......Coincidence."
There was no way it was a coincidence. Ha Ije couldn't have found this hotel and booked it on her own. Hwang Jinsu had clearly arranged it on purpose.
As the elevator rose, Geum Hyuk glanced sideways. Ha Ije was clutching her hands tightly.
Cute.
A grin slipped out.
"Ije."
"Hm?"
"Cheer for me."
Ha Ije lifted her head. Their eyes met.
"......Of course I will."
Geum Hyuk looked at her straight on. It wasn't the beast-like gaze from the ring. Something earnest.
He took a step closer as he said it. In the cramped elevator, less than a handspan remained between them.
"......!"
Ha Ije's face went red in an instant. The flush spread all the way to her ears.
Ding.
The elevator arrived. The doors opened and Ha Ije shot out like a bullet.
"I'm going first! Sleep well!"
She walked down the hallway almost at a run, without looking back.
Geum Hyuk leaned his shoulder against the elevator doorframe, watching her go — until the small back fumbling to open a door at the end of the hallway disappeared from view.