Taunting the Gatekeeper
I tend to offer solutions rather than sympathy. Time flew by faster than expected while playing with the little ones in Korea. The kids had gone to school, leaving just Hayun at home since she didn't have kindergarten today. Normally, Mom would play with her, but she'd gone to meet a friend, so it was just me and Hayun. I still hadn't quite figured out how to entertain her properly. Harin and Beom-jun loved physical affection, but Hayun wasn't into that. She didn't care much for games or toys either, so it was hard to read what was going on in that little head of hers. An awkward silence hung in the house. Still, she didn't want to be alone, so she was sitting on my lap. But even that was starting to make my legs go numb. I could see why Dad fidgeted whenever he had his daughters in his arms.
"Oppa, can I lie down...?"
"Go ahead."
Her personality was just like Mom's—stubborn as hell. I lay back on the sofa, gauging her mood, and she plopped down right in front of me to watch TV. Thanks to that, I could stretch out comfortably and scroll YouTube on my phone.
"Let me know if you need anything."
"Okay."
Harin had this loud, carefree laugh, but Hayun never laughed out loud like that, even when she smiled. She'd just give a quick grin and that was it—I'd never heard her giggle like kyaruruk. Still, she got along great with Harin and Beom-jun. Surprisingly, she followed Harin's lead a lot, and the two of them would play house seriously for hours. The age gap between me and Harin was the same as between Harin and Hayun, so Harin was great at keeping her entertained. Beom-jun's pecking order had only recently been sorted out properly. Harin had eaten Beom-jun's hidden snacks, so he yelled at her—four years younger—and smacked her around. But then Harin unleashed a no-holds-barred slap, and after that near-death experience flashing before his eyes, he couldn't even look her in the face anymore. If I'd found them any later, Beom-jun would've gotten beaten like a dog. He might feel wronged, but I had to side with Harin. His parents could take his side...
I watched Hayun glued to the TV for a moment. Who could resist touching this adorable little creature? She didn't like it, so I held back, but her cheeks were begging to be pinched. If it were Harin, I'd have turned her into a pufferfish without mercy.
After Mom got back, I headed out with her to take the written test for my regular driver's license. I'd planned on a used K7 for my first car, but with Dad loving Mercedes and Mom obsessed with BMWs, I ended up with a used BMW 7 Series. Then I prepped for my return to the States. I wanted to bring Young-hoon, but he had school, so I went alone. Once in the US, I killed time gaming with Might's brothers or training. Whenever a new game dropped, I'd record and upload to YouTube. That's when Brown called.
"Hello?"
"Your next opponent's set. Can you fight in August?"
"Anytime."
"You're growing on me. Fax if you're in Korea, or I'll come to you in the US."
"I'm in the States right now."
"San Francisco? Then AKT, Saturday 10 AM. Dominic's got a fight too."
"Yep."
I didn't post about my next fight on SNS yet. It'd be weird without knowing the opponent. Still, to keep my followers, I dressed in boyfriend-look outfits and snapped pics in various spots.
Come the weekend, I was wrestling with Dominic when Brown showed up.
"Contract. Read it."
I skimmed the contract Brown handed me. Next fight: August, WFC numbered event 150, against Bruno, a Brazilian unranked fighter. The card had Holloway too.
"Whoa... this'll be fun to watch."
"What did you just say?"
Brown was curious since I'd muttered in Korean.
"Just saying it'll be fun."
It was surreal seeing these famous names from this era. Might as well watch live. I signed the contract, picked a fave pre-shot pic, and posted on SNS.
Dominic, who'd already signed, approached me.
"SNS... how do you do it?"
"Didn't you call yourself a pussy before?"
"... I never got cheers like you back when I was unranked. Figured fans might help."
I paused wrestling training and gave the guys a crash course on why SNS was essential for fighters. Bruno was a wrestling base. Turns out he'd prepped for the Olympics once. Right after posting, comments poured in.
ㄴI've been annoyed by his cockiness anyway. Bruno'll smash that nose flat. Grapplers fight grapplers—that's WFC rule. Makes strikers' clean fights stand out more. Hell, grappling matches are always called no-fun in MMA. Nobody came for bed wrestling. So why pair a prospect with a grappler? Kevin Brown's a businessman, not a fighter. Probably pressured Bruno: win boring, you're out. Without grappling, he's just my stepping stone and sandbag. Not my problem, though. I didn't join WFC for dollhouse games.
I checked my rapidly growing wealth. At this rate, I'd have private jet money soon. I didn't know stocks well, but dumping my US part-time earnings—hundreds of thousands of dollars—and all my coins had ballooned it. No idea how high it'd go, but I was set for life already. All the money I'd slaved for in my past life was mine now.
After three months of training, I returned to Korea. Picked up my used car and plates, registered it, and got driving lessons from Mom. No matter how much I said I didn't need practice, to my parents I was just 18. To outsiders, still a kid—they needed reassurance. And honestly, I wasn't that great a driver. Past life, I'd relied on AI too much. I headed out alone for "driving practice," pulled over on the shoulder, and checked SNS. Bruno had posted criticizing me recently. His response sparked an idea, so I gripped the wheel again.
I'd bought a decent suit in the US, but none here, so I grabbed a sharp one. Not Paris, but I snagged a Loro Piana scarf for Mom. Got my hair styled like for a wedding, then hit a nice cafe.
"Hi."
"Yes~?"
"An iced caramel macchiato, extra sweet, and a hot espresso, please."
No customers, so I moved the macchiato aside.
"Boss."
"Yeah?"
"Mind snapping a pic for me?"
"Oh, sure."
"Thanks~"
I sipped the tiny espresso cup, pretending to gaze outside. Perfect shot—I thanked him, gave him the espresso, and enjoyed the sweet macchiato while fiddling with SNS.
Boss nailed the shot—weather vibe and all. My build helped too. Meant to poke a bit, but comments fixated on my hands.
ㄴCheck other pics—he crushes cans fighting.
ㄴ3-time KO on Thierry? Makes sense now.
ㄴInsane...
My hands are big, but the espresso cup was just tiny. Mom eyed me pitifully when I got home.
"You have to provoke him like that?"
I gifted her the scarf to cheer her up. She took it, so she liked it.
"It's called ticket power. Prove it again, and next time challengers will line up. Fans get curious: who'll humble him?"
"... Sigh. Do what you want."
My YouTube was growing steadily too. Uploading new meta game vids I'd recorded. With the fight set, I hustled. Future me barely fought once a year. Back in the US, I trained at AKT and in the mini gym at Grandpa's. Ate with Grandpa and Grandma, brought gifts. Grandpa wanted to teach me shooting, so I spent time blasting guns with Big Uncle, relatives, and Might. Time passed, and Bruno kept provoking—said he'd wreck me for pissing him off. I posted a pic in sweaty sweats, mouthguard half-out, smirking.