Path to the World's Strongest
The world's strongest man. I shoved open the door to the police station right in front of me with all my strength and stormed inside. Bam!
"Wh-what's going on?"
"Huff... huff..."
The startled cop jumped up from his desk and hurried over to me. I held out my palm in a "wait a sec" gesture, glanced back through the door to see if that guy was still chasing me, and pulled my phone from my pocket. Then I called Dad and told him everything that had just happened.
Dad's voice trembled as he listened. "You...!? You're not hurt anywhere, are you!?"
"Nah. I gave him a smackdown."
"Good job. Stay put in the station—I'll be right there."
"Yeah."
I caught my breath for a moment, then slammed the knife—still sharp as hell—onto the desk.
"I almost got knifed by some psycho just now. This is the blade the guy was wielding, and he had an eye tattoo on the left side of his jaw."
"An eye...?"
"I'm younger than I look, so let's talk once my guardian—my dad—gets here."
Dad pulled up in the car in no time. It wasn't far from home anyway. With him by my side, I explained the whole thing to the cops. Then, thanks to all the drawing practice with Harin, I sketched a composite portrait for them.
That's when some American dude in uniform showed up out of nowhere. A U.S. Army colonel, complete with a Korean secretary in tow.
"Hello."
"You're Leon!? Holy shit, how'd you get so damn big!"
He was shorter than me and pulled me into a bear hug in surprise. He was Dad's old army buddy.
"Your kid should join the military, huh?"
"Hahaha. Obviously. This is Tom, my friend from back in the day."
Uncle made a call from the station too. Before long, the incident morphed into an assault on the son of a U.S. colonel stationed in Korea, and the investigation kicked into high gear. That's when I finally felt safe. I was confident I could run if I saw the guy again, but Mom or my siblings? No way.
The next day, word came that they'd caught the perp. And the uncle I'd met yesterday showed up at our house. Mom knew him too and greeted him with a smile. She and Dad headed into Dad's study with him. I hung back a bit, then pressed my ear to the firmly shut door. The soundproofing was annoyingly good, so I had to strain to catch the faint voices.
"The guy who attacked Beomho yesterday was kinda unusual."
"Unusual?"
"I'll dig more, but from what Beomho saw, that eye-tattoo dude seems tied to a security firm called 'Hwa Jeong.' It's a specialist outfit under the Korean PNT Group."
"......"
"No surveillance cams, no evidence he threatened Beomho—it's probably gonna end as just illegal weapon possession. If the other side's a corporation, getting emotional could put Beomho or your whole family in more danger..."
Uncle trailed off. But Dad wasn't the type to just sit there and take that.
"My son nearly got killed, and that's all...?"
Dad went quiet at Uncle's follow-up. "This ain't America. You don't have your family clan here anymore—you even naturalized. Stir up trouble now, and it'll be a headache."
"......"
"Still... they won't touch your family. I told 'em Beomho's like my own son, and I'll handle the questioning myself."
Dad and Mom stayed silent.
"No clue what they were after yesterday, but it doesn't seem like some outfit out for personal revenge. Either way, have Beomho stick to the car for a while."
"......"
"Daniel. Best to drop this one."
"Just drop it...?"
"Get your head straight. If you hated it that much, you shouldn't have left the service. You gave it all up that day, right? Everyone cleared the path for you... and you wasted it on bullshit."
Revenge? I could handle that personally anytime. I wasn't one to beg for help anyway. It wouldn't derail my plans, but if the chance came, I'd at least see the guy's face.
The parents' talk dragged on, and Harin tried sneaking up to eavesdrop too, so I dragged her to the living room to play. Hayun didn't cry even without Mom and Dad in sight. Dad stormed out, pissed—Mom was eyeing him warily. A kid nearly dies, and there's nothing you can do about it. Unlike our paternal relatives, Dad was just a regular citizen, not military.
I tried soothing him as he downed drinks in the study, but Mom shook her head and gave him space. She was furious too, just sighing at his state.
After school, I hit the PC bang with Kang-chan and Min-hyuk for some Starcraft. Mom and Dad worried I'd be scared, but nah—it just left a bad taste. If he showed up again, I'd bolt or snap his neck barehanded in 20 seconds flat. Only regret? In America, I'd have pulled my Glock and ventilated him. All that shooting practice, and when do you ever actually shoot someone? Not in this regression life.
Even without overthinking, those two were getting tougher—1v2 was a stretch now. They'd leveled up.
"Want anything?"
"Jjapaguri."
The part-timer brought over the jjapaguri and snacks we ordered. No charge, obviously. Perks of being the PC bang owner's kid.
Starcraft was boring 'cause I kept crushing 'em, so we switched to Stellar something-or-other.
"I'm not doing high school."
"You're gonna be a fighter, right?"
"Yeah."
"You'll make it. You're the strongest guy I know."
Kang-chan always said embarrassing shit like that. Even the first "let's be friends" came from him.
"Might stick around the States a while. I'll hit you up when I'm in Korea."
We gamed with the guys, promising to link up later. Middle school rolled on unchanged. Top grades meant extra Japanese study at school. From my past life, languages were gold—always useful eventually.
Summer break loomed, and Kim Hak-su called.
"Hello?"
"Got a fight this Saturday."
"WFC?"
"Yeah. They hooked me up with lodging... but just handed me the contract and bounced. Can't speak English, so no clue where to eat..."
"No staff?"
"There is, but he doesn't know Korean either."
Desperate enough to call me, huh. "Snap a pic of the contract and send it. Grab $10 and hand the phone to the concierge."
"What's a concierge?"
"The front desk guy. Or just pass it to a WFC staffer if you're broke."
The contract had the schedule. No meal times listed, so fend for yourself. I skimmed it and walked him through the itinerary. He was scribbling notes.
"Can't thank you enough."
"Buy me meat next time you're in Korea."
"Deal."
I switched to the staffer and asked about food. Pre-weigh-ins, fighters stick to the plan, but they still need basics sorted.
Min-hyuk quit jiu-jitsu for cram school. His family went Stateside, sent the fam back to Korea, and I trained solo at Whittaker's. Harin and Beom-jun hit the pool and baths, stacking memories. No wasted days—before I knew it, winter break of 8th grade hit.
I sat Mom and Dad at the dinner table. They tilted their heads at my serious vibe but sat.
"What's this all of a sudden?"
Mom looked worried. I never got this formal—she was even more intense.
I gathered my thoughts and spoke slowly. "I wanna fight in the WFC."
"......"
They both stiffened instantly. Dad dreamed of me in the military; Mom hated fighting.
"I wanna prove I'm the strongest man in the world."
They balked at "WFC," but Dad's eyes lit up at the rest. Mom's face stayed sour.
"Why?"
"I'm different from other kids. Can't even play normal. Only friends are Kang-chan and Min-hyuk."
"......"
"Figured it out—they're scared of me."
High school height: 188cm, growth plates still open. Past life maxed at 196cm.
Mom looked shocked. Dad nodded like he got it.
"What can I do? Born this way. Seen kids as smart as me, but none fight like me. So yeah—I'm going world champ."
Kid logic, but nailed my edge: fighting. Mom was speechless. She always wanted me normal. Tough with Dad, though. Me and Harin? Never normal paths.
Still, true to form, Mom nodded. Always "do what you want."
"So, no high school."
"Why!?"
"GED test."
"That's why you studied high school stuff...?"
I grinned and nodded; she sighed.
"I'm young for my grade anyway. Try a year—if I fail, school it is."
Reasonable. Mom nodded again. Smooth sailing after: applied, trained till test day, played with the kids otherwise. No school freed Harin for family trips during her break.
Test day: nailed it. School smarts paid off. Forgotten stuff came back easy—I'd been a test-taker once.
No college, even if they called me a thug. Passed GED in four months. Then: America.
For the IBA youth world boxing tournament.
Everything was ready. Leave Korea behind for now—time to step toward my dream.