Chapter 18
After sending Kim Hyunsung away.
Jung Doo-chul, who had closed the gym doors, sat on the bare floor and drank without even any snacks.
Gulp.
He downed it in one go.
He had already emptied a bottle, yet he didn’t feel the slightest buzz, not even the sensation of getting drunk.
“…Doo-chul, you’re really the worst.”
Just moments ago.
He felt ashamed of himself.
So to restore his pride, he pushed Kim Hyunsung to his limit, but laughably, there was a part of him that didn’t want Kim Hyunsung to collapse. If he really did collapse, he wouldn’t get the 100 million won. As reason and emotion clashed head-on, watching Kim Hyunsung hold out until the end brought about a swirl of complicated emotions.
Anger and relief.
Contradictory emotions.
Kim Hyunsung endured with his own strength, but if there had truly been an intent to take him down, he wouldn’t have been able to withstand it.
‘I must’ve been deceiving myself. I probably thought that if Kim Hyunsung could just meet the standard I set, then at least selling him off for money would seem somewhat justified. I had intended to accept the offer from the start.’
Of course.
He was surprised by Kim Hyunsung’s determination.
That’s why he ramped up the intensity, but he couldn’t deny that his heart had been swayed by the 100 million won. Proof of that was on his phone screen, which caught Jung Doo-chul’s gaze. Kim Hyunsung had said he’d transfer the 100 million won by tomorrow, but not even an hour had passed before the amount was already in his account.
[Depositor Go Chang-beom 100,000,000 won]
A hundred million won.
His eyes trembled slightly.
People think that if you’re a UFC champion, you make a ton of money.
But the reality is different.
Due to the nature of mixed martial arts, where you can only fight once or twice a year depending on your physical condition, there wasn’t much left after covering all the expenses to prepare for a championship. The champions had it better. Fighters in the lower tiers received absurd fight money, and several athletes even formally protested the revenue structure of the fighting organizations.
If he had fought in a few more title matches.
Jung Doo-chul wouldn’t have been this poor.
Just as he was starting to pay off his debts and about to make real money, a drug scandal hit, dragging him down into ruin. So the meaning of that 100 million won was inevitably special. It was a sum that could finally bring some comfort to the wife who checked the household ledger every day and suffered because she had met him.
He drank again, one glass after another.
Teaching Kim Hyunsung.
Was a mistake.
If people found out, they’d condemn him harshly, but maybe this was actually for the best.
‘If not for this 100 million, I probably would’ve accepted the broker’s offer.’
A few days ago.
A broker from a new fighting organization made him a special offer.
They wanted him to fight using his title as a former UFC champion, but demanded he use drugs again to perform like he was in his prime. He seriously considered it. The fight money was in the tens of millions of won, and he figured that since his body was already tainted, using drugs one more time wouldn’t matter.
The first time is the hardest.
The second time is just a matter of circumstances.
Despite all his regrets about using drugs, Jung Doo-chul spent his days crumbling apart.
Maybe that’s why he overreacted so much when Kim Hyunsung brought up the issue of drugs.
In his past life, he had accepted the broker’s offer.
He fought in the new organization, got caught using drugs again, and his career as a fighter ended completely. Kim Moo-yeol discovered him after that. Knowing the life Jung Doo-chul had lived, Kim Hyunsung had been able to make his offer without hesitation.
He was the kind of person.
Who would do anything for money.
As he continued to drink, Jung Doo-chul sent a single text to the broker.
[Let’s consider that offer canceled.]
With money.
There was no reason to accept the broker’s offer.
100 million won was enough.
“…This will be the last detour of my life. After this, I won’t sell myself out for money anymore.”
He would finish this matter properly.
And then he would teach his juniors.
Those who wouldn’t walk the same path as him—juniors with real talent who could be loved by people.
—
Kim Hyunsung’s house was in an uproar.
His grandmother, who had been preparing the dinner table while waiting for her grandson, showed a devastated expression the moment she saw his face.
“Aigoo, my baby. What on earth happened to you?!”
Kim Hyunsung’s face.
It was a mess.
His whole face was swollen, and bloodstains were visible all over his clothes.
Anticipating his grandmother’s reaction, he had considered stopping by a sauna first, but gave up after checking the mirror. It was beyond something he could cover up. So he went straight home, and as his grandmother examined his condition, she shouted in fury.
“Who did this? What bastard did this to my baby? Just say the word. Grandma will beat the crap out of him.”
“I’m fine, Grandma.”
“Fine?! What about this face is fine?!”
She couldn’t calm down.
Seeing her yelling for so long, Kim Hyunsung felt strangely moved.
‘…Grandma.’
As a child, he used to think she was harsh.
She never took food or clothing lightly, and tightening the belt every day was the norm, which made young Kim Hyunsung resent her at times. But when he became a vegetative patient, she spared no effort. She had him admitted to an expensive hospital in Seoul, and if something was needed for treatment, she cashed in her savings without hesitation. The household she had built up collapsed overnight because of him alone.
It broke his heart.
To think this loving grandmother had suffered because of him.
His eyes welled up with tears, but his grandmother took it the wrong way.
“Why’s a grown man crying?!”
In the end.
He settled the situation by saying it was just a minor scuffle at school.
His grandmother talked about going to flip the other guy’s house, but after over an hour of convincing, he finally managed to calm her down. His younger brother, Kim Hyunjin, was still at cram school late into the evening. While eating with his grandmother, Kim Hyunsung cautiously spoke as she looked at him.
“Grandma. You still have your subscription savings account, right?”
“Of course I do. I’ve been putting in 100,000 won every month for over a dozen years.”
“I heard Myungjin Construction is opening applications for new apartments. Try applying. You never know—you might get picked.”
Her eyes widened.
Subscription account.
She had signed up for it over a decade ago on the advice of a friendly bank clerk, but never once had she thought about actually using it. Despite the name, to her, it was nothing more than a savings account. Her plan was to cancel it when her grandsons got into college and use the money for their tuition.
She replied.
“I heard even if you get selected, it becomes a problem.”
“That’s what people who don’t know any better say. These days, loans are easy to get. Just selling this villa would be more than enough to cover the balance. And if it’s really too much, you can always resell the contract to someone else.”
It was all a bit much.
She looked stunned.
“When did my grandson become a real estate expert?”
“Expert? Come on.”
Kim Hyunsung laughed.
In this life.
He didn’t just want revenge.
He wanted his one and only grandmother to live comfortably until the day she closed her eyes.
If he could, he would’ve just handed her a billion won like he did for Jung Doo-chul, but if he gave her that kind of money with no strings attached, she would definitely grow suspicious. The subscription account was a perfect excuse. The moment she entered the lottery under her name, Go Chang-beom would make sure her name came out as a winner.
“Make sure you apply. Please don’t forget.”
He took a spoonful of soup.
And as he swallowed it, he also swallowed the lump in his throat stirred up by the warmth in her gaze.
—
The next day.
After school, Kim Hyunsung went straight to the gym.
Just as promised, Jung Doo-chul began the training. Since Kim Hyunsung was still a beginner, he prepared a fitness program tailored to building endurance.
“Whether it’s fighting or sports, anything you do with your body requires stamina as a foundation. If you’re out of breath after throwing a few punches, then there’s no point in teaching you anything. Kim Hyunsung. If you’re that desperate, then grit your teeth and push through. If you drop out midway, I won’t teach you any further.”
With that statement, the gates of hell opened.
Though adjusted to suit Kim Hyunsung’s level, the program was originally designed for professional fighters. From light jump rope exercises to footwork drills, treadmill running, and dumbbell routines, he was pushed relentlessly. Even though it was the first day, which most would go easy on, Jung Doo-chul was firm.
“Two hours a day. Just endure for two hours.”
It may have been “just two hours,” but it was a never-ending hell.
Kim Hyunsung was actually decent at sports.
He was known as an all-rounder at school and always ranked first in PE classes. But as soon as the training began, he could taste the bitterness in his mouth. His head spun. The situation pushed him harder than even his fight with Park Mincheol’s crew, and his eyes gleamed with cold determination.
He had to pull through.
Shin Youngmin.
To someone who had trained in mixed martial arts for years, he was probably nothing. And if he couldn’t even survive this stamina training, he’d never stand a chance against him. Not to mention, Shin Youngmin wasn’t even the final goal. Kim Hyunsung needed to go beyond Cheonil and make his way to Gangnam. Every step counted.
Preparing to grow stronger.
It didn’t matter if Go Chang-beom or Kim Youngcheol had connections—if he lost in terms of strength, it meant nothing.
Fueled by desperation.
Just like how he hadn’t given up even while getting beaten by Jung Doo-chul, Kim Hyunsung didn’t voice a single complaint despite the sweat pouring off him like rain. Jung Doo-chul was the one who had produced Kim Mooyeol. Trusting that there was a reason behind his teachings, Kim Hyunsung forced his trembling body to keep moving.
Someday.
Jung Doo-chul might pay the price for teaching him.
If word got out that he had trained someone who would go on to do worse than school violence, the public would lash out at him, just like with the drug scandal. But none of that mattered. Jung Doo-chul would’ve gone back to using drugs if not for him, and the problems caused by Kim Hyunsung were compensated with the 100 million won.
That was it.
He intended to take only what he needed.
Kim Hyunsung no longer had the emotional capacity in this life to care about someone else’s life.
—
The first training.
Jung Doo-chul looked at Kim Hyunsung with a surprised expression.
‘He lasted the full two hours?’
He had talked tough, but honestly thought Kim Hyunsung would collapse before even an hour had passed.
But.
Kim Hyunsung endured.
Even while breathing heavily, even when he dashed to the bathroom to throw up everything in his stomach, he came back pale-faced and insisted on continuing. Clearly, he had a reason he absolutely had to get stronger. And that determination struck something deep in Jung Doo-chul.
‘He’s got talent. With this kind of mental strength, he could succeed even if he debuted professionally.’
He was tempted.
If Kim Hyunsung had come in as a normal student.
He would’ve seriously considered grooming him for a professional career.
But since their relationship was born from a deal, he had no intention of controlling Kim Hyunsung out of misplaced sentiment.
‘I’ll give you exactly what I’m paid for. At school, no one your age will be able to lay a finger on you.’
As a coach.
He dreamed of a new future.
That’s why he had opened the gym in the first place, using his recent experience as an active fighter to develop his training program. It was a clear departure from conventional methods. While most coaches only taught textbook techniques, Jung Doo-chul had hands-on experience with even the most unorthodox cases.
Fighters who used drugs.
Destructive methods that could make even those cheaters submit.
Having stepped into the mud himself, even if it made him filthy, Jung Doo-chul could create an entirely new path.
In his previous life.
Three years from now, he would meet Kim Mooyeol. He taught him how to become strong without using drugs, and that regret-filled instruction led Kim Mooyeol to become a proud, fair UFC champion. In the media, Kim Mooyeol said meeting Jung Doo-chul was the greatest luck of his life—that thanks to him, he became strong without shortcuts.
And now was no different.
The very same training that made Kim Mooyeol stronger.
‘One year. I’ll bring you up to the level you want in just one year.’
That training was now being used three years earlier—on an ordinary high school student named Kim Hyunsung.
