Can This Really Be Happening?
"Quit sitting in your rooms scratching your bellies and get some exercise, like this. You have no idea how refreshing it is, or how the energy just comes surging up."
"Uh, uhh... thank you for the donation, HaniLeft. But please change that nickname."
The first time I'd done an outdoor broadcast without thinking, the donation alert had been so loud that I'd been baptized in a torrent of stares from everyone nearby. Ever since, the alert stayed locked at minimum volume. No matter how thick a face I put on, I couldn't handle passersby looking at me like I was out of my mind.
I traded this and that with the viewers on the walk home. Lately, to squeeze a little more out of the workout, I'd been making the trip back from Myung-hoon's Gym on foot without exception. It was only about a bus stop, and if I jogged it lightly, seven or eight minutes at most.
"All right, so tonight's late-night broadcast is the one you all love most: Legend of League! Two more wins and it's the Master promotion series, so look forward to it!"
"Huh? A weird sound?"
At first I figured it was somebody fishing for a reaction. This stretch was old houses and an older road, the streetlights spaced far enough apart that the whole lane sat in a heavy dark. The first few times I'd walked home alone this late after a workout, viewers had tried to spook me with bits about someone following behind, or a ghost right at my back. I assumed this was more of the same.
"......"
At this point it was hard to write off as a joke. I stopped where I was and strained to take in everything around me.
"$#^&$#!@."
"......!"
For an instant, I heard it. Small, and muffled, as if something were pressed over it. I swallowed dryly and edged toward the source. The viewers were losing it faster than I was.
The faint sound was coming from a pocket of shadow at the corner of a dark alley. I'd lived in this neighborhood long enough to know the dead end: an unused little shed of a warehouse, and almost never any foot traffic. A bad feeling hardened my face. At the bend where the alley turned in, I leaned out just far enough to see inside.
"......!"
"Shut up or you're dead. I'll slash that face wide open. You want a few rounds of plastic surgery, keep biting my hand and acting cute."
"Mmph!"
Two shadows were tangled in the corner. The one on top had pinned the smaller figure beneath him. A low, filthy voice muttered, and under it a smothered moan from a mouth that had been clamped shut.
"Just let me hit it once and we'll end this clean. I don't feel like making this complicated either."
"Mmph!"
"Ah, for fuck's sake! You bitch, I told you to keep your mouth shut. Want me to pin a few medals on that face? How about I fix it so you can't even lift that mug in public starting tomorrow?"
Faced with the real thing, my head went blank. I couldn't decide what to do. I knew, of course, that the first move was to call the police, but the sudden crisis locked my body down on instinct, and I couldn't make it move.
"Well, well, those are pretty decent... how many guys have grabbed these? Nice."
"Hhh, hhhk... please, stop. I won't report you."
"You fucking bitch! One more word of bullshit and you're dead, got it? Shut up and enjoy it. Or bite your own sleeve. Somebody hears you? I'll just carve that face and run, so you decide."
The clothes of the person pinned underneath were coming off. The stolen top fluttered away and landed at a distance, and I watched a rough hand grope over the underwear. Instinct told me that wasting any more time would be dangerous. I eased a step back, already deciding to call the police first.
And in that instant...
"......!"
"The fuck was that!"
I'd dropped the donation alert to minimum, but the alley was so quiet that a man already wound tight couldn't miss it. The moment his head turned this way, our eyes met. A cold stare smeared with malice meant for someone else. The instant it locked onto me, my whole body froze.
In that instant, the Helper's single sharp cry snapped me awake. I ground my teeth, forced strength into my hand, and dialed 112. The line connected fast. In the same moment the man shoved himself up and came running. I spun and fled, rattling off the address and what was happening. I could hear his footsteps closing. I stressed hurry into the phone more than once, then looked back.
"......!"
"You fucking bitch!"
He was right there. This wasn't a situation where I could keep the call going. I whipped around and hurled the phone into the face of the man reaching for me.
Thud!
"Ghk!"
Thank God. It hit him square in the face. He clutched at his eye and staggered back, and I screamed with everything I had.
"Kyaah! Robber! Rapist! Somebody help!"
A murmur rose, then another. This was a residential street. It was late and dark, but my sharp scream split the quiet, and lights began coming on here and there. For a second the man faltered. Then his face set even harder, and he leveled a knife at me.
"You're fucked. Yeah? You get that? Running's off the table now. Let's see this all the way through."
"......!"
He seemed to have given up on fleeing, and that made everything more dangerous. We were already in a standoff. Running was no longer possible, and a man packed with malice was closing the distance an inch at a time from right in front of me.
"Wonder what kind of face you're hiding under that mask. Pretty? I'll check in a second and rip it to shreds, so look forward to it."
He looked like a solid man somewhere in his late thirties or early forties. Taller than me, and at least fifteen kilograms heavier. And he had a knife.
"......"
I know. I know how stupid it is to hesitate here.
My hand trembled with the sting of it, but I checked the abilities the Helper was recommending. Flexible Body 3, Grappling 2, Keen Senses 2, Heavy Strike 2... nine hundred and ten points vanished in an instant. It still wasn't enough. I was reaching for a few more when the man, already that close, stabbed.
Before, I would have stumbled backward and taken the blade, or given him a clean second swing. Not now. A body carrying the strength of those abilities answered on its own. I turned a fraction to face him and drove a front kick into his gut. Even adding the length of his arm to the short blade that looked like a utility knife, my leg still reached farther, so my strike landed first.
"Die!"
I'd stalled the first attack, but the gap in sex and in weight class was obvious. He ignored the second front kick I threw and simply bulled in like a wild boar. Riding Flexible Body, I didn't resist. I let myself fall straight back, kept the line of his force intact, and as he lost his own balance I seized his right wrist and yanked. That revolting face rushed in close. I clenched my teeth, set my foot into the gut of the man collapsing forward, and at the exact moment my back met the ground I threw him clean over me.
It looked like something out of a fighting game.
The breakfall wasn't perfect, and the wing of my shoulder blade throbbed. The man who'd been thrown with his full weight behind him would be hurting far worse.
"Ghk! Agh... fuck."
Just as I'd thought. He'd even dropped the knife, and now he lay on the ground twitching. The hit had landed harder than I'd expected. This was a chance I couldn't waste. I scrambled up, closed on him, and drove a hard kick into his side. A choked gasp burst out of him, as if his breath had been cut off all at once. I kicked the knife far away and mounted him, hammering his face with my fist twice.
I couldn't let him recover. A big technique had landed by luck and done damage, but from the weight class on down, this fight didn't make any sense.
"Aaaagh!"
Sure enough, he recovered almost at once, twisted, and bucked me off. There was no technique in it, just raw brute force, and that was exactly how wide the gap in physical ability and size still was. I retreated fast and dropped back into a guard.
By then the street around us was fully lit. More than ninety percent of the nearby houses had their lights on, and several residents had come outside at the untimely commotion and were watching. Among them were men with solid builds. I signaled them at once, making it unmistakable that I needed help. At first the crowd hesitated, afraid of stepping in and paying for it, but as their numbers grew they found their nerve and rushed the attacker. Together, they pinned him down.
"Aaaagh! You sons of bitches! Let go! I said let go!"
"Whoa, that was insane. Noona, how'd you do that? You went hot, hap, hiyah, and that guy just went flying."
"......"
Somewhere in the middle of it, one little kid had apparently been filming. He held his phone out and asked. Every bit of strength had drained out of me. I gave him a hollow laugh, told him I was too wiped to do anything but rest, and sent him off.
A little later, the police cars arrived. They took custody of the subdued attacker and looked for the person who had called it in. I was ringed at the center of the crowd, turned into a spectacle, and I lifted a hand with what strength I had left. When they asked whether I could come to the station to give a statement and walk them through what had happened, I nodded. And then, for the first time in my life, I got into a police car.
Really... it was the kind of day that deserved a Can this really be happening?