Ascension

“Any time works for me. I'm always ready. It's right that you decide, since you just finished your fight. But….”

Ji Hyeon-tae answered into the microphone.

“Don't get carried away and run your mouth too far. Consider it advice from your senior—hear me out.”

“WAAAAAAAH!”

Cheers and applause set the arena blazing all over again.

In the middle of it all, I had been staring coolly at Ji Hyeon-tae, playing it relaxed, when I suddenly turned my head and asked, “Sir, when's the next event?”

“Huh?”

The KFC chairman's eyes sharpened, then a smile crept across his lips.

“The next event is in a week, so that's a bit tight. The earliest would be 079.”

“A week.”

I turned to Ji Hyeon-tae.

“Can you make weight in a week?”

Ji Hyeon-tae frowned.

“You're asking me that?”

“Yes. I don't do a separate cut.”

“Unbelievable….”

Ji Hyeon-tae let out a bitter laugh and went on.

“Until you showed up, the title shot was mine. That's how the order went. Of course I was managing my weight.”

“I saw all the trash you posted on SNS—honestly, it worked out for the better. Now I get to prove my qualification again in short order. Wouldn't you say?”

At that, the KFC chairman's eyes gleamed.

“You sure about this? There's only one belt. You could savor it a little longer.”

“I fought three times in a single day. This is how I enjoy it. Holding this thing draws packs of fierce opponents like a swarm.”

I ran a hand over the belt fastened at my waist and added, “Being able to fight whoever I want, whenever I want—that's a champion's privilege, isn't it?”

The memories of my past life, of countless fights waged on the edge of life and death, had left behind stimulation just as intense as their deep trauma. Addicted to that stimulation as I was now, I was more than a little insane.

And then—

“WAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

The crowd roared at this madness, then as now. And to the promoters, madness like this was pure box office.

“Done!”

The KFC chairman nodded willingly. The cheers swelled louder, and riding the wave like an emperor, flushed with excitement, he answered the crowd's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠demands with thumbs up and thumbs down as he added, “Let's push for it. If it's you two, the fighters on that card will welcome it with open arms.”

“I don't care if I'm not the main event. Being the main event doesn't make me any stronger.”

“Hahaha, understood. And Hyeon-tae, you agree?”

As the audience leaned in to listen, Ji Hyeon-tae answered with a face gone stiff.

“Good. I won't have to wait long.”

“WAAAAAAAH….”

The roar went up once more, and I handed the microphone back to the ring announcer and stepped down from the cage. Then, as everyone rose to their feet applauding, I left the arena.

Back in the waiting room, my parents were there along with Kang Ji-won, who'd grown close to me lately.

“Congratulations! You worked hard, son.”

Seeing my dad say that, I unbuckled the championship belt and pressed it into his arms.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because you and Mom believed in me.”

“What did we even do?”

“Look. I came back with my face clean again this time, didn't I?”

I turned my face to each of my parents in turn. When I clowned around, Mom cracked a smile.

“That's how it should be. We raised you well, after all.”

“I'll keep clearing up the prejudice that being a fighter means getting beaten up a lot.”

Kang Ji-won, who'd been filming with her phone camera since I walked into the waiting room, tilted her head.

“…Is that a prejudice?”

“How's your side? My heart dropped when you took that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hit earlier.”

My dad asked as if it had just occurred to him, and the conversation shifted naturally.

“I'm fine. I should get it checked at a hospital, but nothing feels broken.”

“If anything's broken, you can't fight. If it turns out you are, then that fight you promised for a week from now is off—got it?”

“Of course it's off. How would you fight with a broken bone?”

Mom pushed back at Dad's question like he'd said something ridiculous, but honestly, I was the one who wanted to ask. What on earth were they talking about?

Calling off your own fight over a broken bone—in a safe sport where rules protect you and the referee steps in to stop things when one fighter takes serious damage, whether or not the fighter quits?

“How times have changed.”

Attention turned to me at the words that slipped out, so I laughed it off awkwardly.

“I just meant, back in the old days there probably wasn't any such thing as fighter safety. It's nice that fighters are well protected these days.”

Then I turned to the camera Kang Ji-won was holding and kept going.

“No gums, no teeth, right? What athlete's never been hurt? When there's a problem, you fight your way through and find a way.”

“Hahaha, you're insane.”

“What a man's man. A man's man.”

Everyone burst out laughing and shook their heads.

It might have sounded like a joke, but I meant every word.

“A warrior who steps onto the battlefield can't call off tomorrow's battle because he took a bullet today, and he can't run before the fight even starts. You think you sprain your ankle walking to the cage and you just turn around? As long as I'm moving, I'm finishing my opponent.”

“Hahaha! Well said.”

Everyone laughed again. They probably took it as bravado.

But primitive or not, I couldn't deny that this was the ancient warrior's creed, soaked deep into my bones.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

The momentum was genuinely frightening. The comments alone told me exactly where the wind was blowing.

What's more, my subscriber count was climbing so steeply that it had just ticked past 241,000. So I decided to row while the tide was high: right after school, I went live for the first time.

I hadn't announced it, but sure enough, people flooded in instantly.

The viewer count exploded in an instant, chat streaming up the screen in a rush.

“Hello, everyone.”

I glanced away from the chaotic chat for a moment and held up the silver play button I'd brought in my bag.

“Thanks to all of you, I won the KFC championship belt, and the silver play button arrived too.”

“I'm planning to talk about that after Ji Hyeon-tae's fight.”

“It's true I haven't been training for long.”

I said it honestly. Even if someone dug deep into my past someday, there was no way the traces of my previous life ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would surface. Not that I planned to tell anyone—and it wasn't the kind of thing anyone would believe anyway.

“Editing videos with a friend. She headed off to her academy, and I'm about to stop by the gym on my way home. I'll end the stream soon, so if you're curious about anything, ask away—anything at all.”

I grabbed the silver play button and got moving, reading and answering questions as I walked out of the building.

Outside, it was dark and chilly. My trip to Europe had been over summer break, and somewhere along the way the cold had crept up on me. The biting wind smelled of winter.

A razor-sharp, dangerous question—but this was a body that had dodged real spears and arrows aimed to kill. I didn't care what kind of flak I caught, and I had no intention of playing it cagey anyway. Answering honestly, no more calculation than when I'd signed my contract, the stream never even buffered.

“A first-round finish would be nice. I've got a few pictures of it in my head already.”

“That part doesn't bother me, I just don't like saying things I'm not sure of.”

“I haven't finished watching all of Ji Hyeon-tae's footage yet. Once I've studied it closely, drilled shadow work and training alongside it, I expect a fairly clear picture will come together before the fight—like it did this time.”

“Right now I only have the rough sketch. By then, I'll know whether I'm finishing it in pencil, watercolor, or oil—in other words, exactly how the final picture will look.”

I turned off the main road, angling into a park along a quiet side street good for running, and started wrapping things up.

“Thank you all so much for coming. Every bit of donation money will be donated in full—I'll post proof. I have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to head out soon, so I'll take exactly one last question and end the stream. Go ahead.”

They were all variations on the same question.

“Way up from before. Improving at a speed that's honestly a little scary.”

Whether it was because my body was young and resilient, or because it wasn't just my brain cells but every cell in my body remembering my past life, my stamina and muscle were growing at a rate that made me wonder if the homeostasis my old body once maintained had carried over. It didn't show much on camera, but these days if I stood in front of a mirror, stripped off my shirt, and flexed, the body looking back was genuinely worth a look.

Which made training something I genuinely savored.

“There's no special backup plan. If my gas tank empties, I fight on empty. Ideally I finish before that happens, but even if it goes long, I think it'll be fun. I like a long, grinding~ fight like that. Still, better cardio means I can perform at my peak for longer, so I'm stepping it up now. I've stopped taking public transit entirely on purpose. Anyway, off to run to the gym. Thank you all for joining—”

Just as I stopped walking and lifted my phone to eye level to say my goodbyes—

Something in the video feed showing my own face caught my eye, and I turned my head.