The Strongest Person in the World
I was the strongest guy in the world. When I crushed a 2v1 in StarCraft at the PC bang, Kang-chan and Min-hyuk just shrugged it off. But when we moved from two games to three, they finally realized what kind of monster the PC bang owner's son really was.
We killed time at the PC bang like that until Min-hyuk found out Dad taught jiu-jitsu and signed up. Kang-chan didn't seem all that interested in working out. So Min-hyuk and I trained together, went home for dinner, and then I played with the little ones.
Boys and girls are definitely different. Harin felt soft to the touch, but Beom-jun had this solid, bony feel. The biggest difference was their appetites. The second I put something in my mouth, he'd plop down next to me with those sparkling eyes, staring.
Food was Mom's domain, so I couldn't give him any. He had his own snacks, but when I pulled them out, he shook his head.
"Want some of what hyung's eating?"
"Yeah!"
"No way~ Mom'll scold us."
"Nooo~"
Once he realized I wasn't gonna share, Beom-jun's lower lip started quivering out, nice and slow. Look at this kid's plump little lips.
Mom had taken Harin outside for a bit, so it was just me and Beom-jun in the house. These were full-on American-style buffalo wings—way too spicy for a kid. They say it's the pleasure without responsibility, right? Better to let him taste it than have him hate me for holding out. I dipped my finger in the sauce and popped it in his mouth.
"Mmm~"
"Tasty?"
He nodded like he was pretending it was good. Then his face slowly turned serious, those round eyes locking onto me.
"W-Water..."
"Want some water?"
"Water!"
Tears welled up in his bright eyes, so I rushed to grab some. He couldn't wait—he burst into tears.
"Waaah!"
Cold sweat broke out. If Mom caught me, I'd get beaten like a dog. I frantically washed my hands, shoved some candy in his mouth, and soothed him.
Once Beom-jun calmed down, I went back to my buffalo wings. After that taste, he never asked for any more.
Mom and Harin came back from their quick outing. Beom-jun kept his mouth shut about me feeding him anything. Sharp kid for someone who just turned one.
Beom-jun takes after Dad a lot—blond hair. Anyone could tell he's Harin's little brother. Unlike me, our Beom-jun's gonna grow up handsome. Weirdly obsessed with balls, too.
Mom checked on Beom-jun, then came over to me.
"Beom-ho."
"Yeah?"
"How's Beom-jun?"
"Cute, right?"
"Don't you want more cute little siblings?"
"What kinda nonsense is that?"
She laid the trap with that question, then hit me with her prepared response. Her smile at my reaction made me flinch.
"...No way, right?"
Dad had gotten way manlier lately with his business stuff. Like he'd gone from unemployed white guy vibes back to his army photo days.
"Aw, c'mon..."
"Our Beom-ho will be a cool big bro, right?"
These people only had me and Harin in my past life—what wind's blowing now that they're planning a fourth kid? Maybe it's all my fault. Harin's even more clingy to just me than before the regression.
"Can't you just chill, Mom?"
"...Let's hear your reason."
"Nah~ Harin was singing that 'little sister' song. Looks like Beom-jun's already pumping with male hormones."
Male hormones in a kid not even two? And she's blaming Harin? I dry-swallowed, facepalming.
If Mom wants another kid, who am I to stop her? I nodded slowly, and she finally smiled.
"Get married yourself~ Doesn't it just hit different? Our eldest is so reliable~"
"You said it was gross! Creepy!"
"Oh? It's 'cause you grew up looking just like me."
I do have that full-on Asian look. People say I take after Mom's side sometimes. She pinched my cheek, grinning.
"Pray for a little sister~"
"What if it's a boy? You gonna have another?"
"....."
"That'd be a nightmare. Two years younger than Beom-jun? He'd eat the maknae alive."
Mom flinched at that. Even our uncles—Big Uncle, Dad, Little Uncle—have age gaps. Family tradition: boys need spacing to keep the peace. Mom's heard it plenty.
"But... it's kinda late for that?"
"....."
"Gotta pray hard now."
She vanished from the table, leaving me behind. At least Harin running over and climbing into my lap healed me. Fresh from the salon, she chomped into a buffalo wing like a champ.
"Harin-ah. Want a little sister?"
"Yeah!"
I could kinda see why Mom couldn't resist. Harin's hopeful smile had absolute surrender baked in—no refusing that.
Maybe it's best to lock it down young. Time passed, and my school life got totally normal. Kinda bummed smartphones weren't out yet.
Dad's wish came true—tons of people signed up for jiu-jitsu. Some probably just for the gym. He'd turned 1.5 floors into a full gym.
Even on this weekend morning, I headed to Dad's dojo early. That's where I met someone unexpected: Kim Hak-su, the WFC pioneer.
"Whoa... Gym owner's son?"
"Yup."
"Middle school freshman, right? Thirteen?"
"That's him. Solid, huh?"
Dad's 189cm tall. And I was still shooting up.
"Damn, born for it."
"Haha!"
"Face looks kinda soft, but that body..."
I pretended not to know him, bowed 90 degrees, and changed into my gi. Dad was bragging about me to Kim Hak-su.
"Even grown-ups in our dojo can't beat him besides me."
With future tech not out yet, I could probably take Dad. Jiu-jitsu evolves fast like WFC. Never tried on a middle schooler—might shock him.
"Beom-ho. Wanna spar this hyung?"
"Sure."
Dad set it up. Kim Hak-su's famous for striking now, but soon grappling. Judo base. I wanted a taste of how good he was.
Power-wise, he crushed me. Gi made it tougher. He tried a judo throw—I hooked his leg, spun mid-air, released his collar, and dropped back-first. Rolled with his ankle trapped, knees clamping his groin, one full turn.
Off-balance, he fell. Heel hook on the ankle—tap came quick. Classic ima nari roll on a jiu-jitsu noob.
"Whoa..."
"Told ya he's good. Even adults can't beat my boy in a real fight."
"Insane. Tons to learn, even ignoring real fights."
We dove into proper jiu-jitsu training. New grappling partners always welcome. I stuck to wrestling against him.
When it was just us, I spoke up.
"Uncle."
"Hyung."
"Thirteen years older..."
Mom's got my sibling growing in her belly. Next year, same zodiac—hyung or oppa.
"Hyung."
"Yeah?"
"You do MMA in that Japanese deep org?"
"...How'd you know?"
"Watched your fights."
"For real!?"
I watched him catch his breath on the mat. Excited grin.
"Why MMA?"
"Proves you're the strongest across all sports."
"Don't tell Dad, but I wanna do MMA too."
"...He said he's making you a soldier?"
"Gotta convince the hardass."
He nodded seriously.
"Damn... Say that at fourteen? By twenty, you'll eat everyone."
"That's the goal."
"See ya in MMA then?"
"Nah, my weight class? Light heavy at least."
"True."
He chuckled. Just stopping by to learn a bit—leaving soon.
Japan org merges into WFC, he joins with killer terms.
"Know WFC?"
"Yeah."
"I'm heading there. They say it's the world stage."
Two years from now, per timeline.
"Hyung, speak English?"
"Gotta."
"Hit me up if you're in trouble."
"Trouble?"
"Need a translator mid-chat?"
"You good at English?"
Dad's obvious white guy, asks if his son speaks English? I glanced at far-off Dad; Kim Hak-su nodded slowly.
"Dad's Korean sucks, right?"
"Eh... Pretty good for a foreigner."
Dad's Korean's predictable white-guy level. Business improving it now.
"Lived ignoring Dad's English as a baby?"
"Ah...?"
"Two years school in the States too."
"Gimme your number?"
I opened my flip phone, jotted it down.
"Train striking a lot."
"Suddenly...?"
"Grappling's world-best, but striking pays."
He blinked at the real talk. No point saying more—I just smiled.
"You're aiming for WFC too, right?"
"Don't tell Dad, seriously?"
"Obviously."
"I'll stand where the world's strongest is proven."
"...Cool. Can't wait."
I plan to debut in WFC at eighteen. We'll meet as pros then.