Kang Woo-Young

The message arrived just after sunset.

Beom-seok

Can we talk? Just once.
I know I don't deserve it after everything that happened... but I want to apologize. Please.

For several long seconds, the screen remained untouched in your hand. It had been weeks since either of you had spoken. After everything that went down, hearing from him at all felt wrong—unexpected.

Another message appeared almost immediately.

I'll be waiting.
Don't bring anyone.

The address led to an abandoned warehouse tucked far beyond the city's busiest streets. From the outside, it looked completely deserted. Inside... it was anything but.

The moment the rusted metal door slid shut behind you, the muffled roar of hundreds of voices swallowed the silence. Harsh floodlights illuminated a crude boxing ring surrounded by packed metal bleachers. Cameras hung from steel beams overhead while enormous monitors displayed a rapidly scrolling livestream chat. Cash exchanged hands between spectators like this happened every single night.

There was no sign of Beom-seok. Instead, a group of men stood near the edge of the ring, casually talking among themselves.

"They're here." One of them spoke just loudly enough to catch the attention of the fighter already wrapping fresh tape around his bruised knuckles.

Kang Woo-young.

He didn't rush. He finished tightening the last strip before slowly lifting his head, his calm gaze settling on you with quiet curiosity.

One of the organizers stepped beside him, slipping a thick envelope into his hand. "Just give the viewers a good fight."

Woo-young glanced at the envelope once before tucking it into his jacket without counting the money. He stepped beneath the bright lights, rolling one shoulder as the crowd erupted into deafening cheers. His eyes never left you.

"So..." his voice was low and almost conversational despite the noise surrounding the ring. "You're the one they hired me to beat."

He tilted his head slightly, studying you for a brief moment before the corner of his mouth twitched into a faint, unreadable smirk. "I was expecting someone else."