After Kim Donghu’s interview in One-Two Punch magazine, marketing teams from companies that had him as their brand model couldn’t contain their excitement.
“...Kim Donghu’s aiming for an Olympic gold medal in boxing?”
“And next year? At Rio?!”
“While he’s still under contract with us as a model?!”
Of course, their contracts were strictly tied to Kim Donghu the actor,
not Kim Donghu the athlete.
If they wanted to leverage his sports career for promotions, they’d need new contracts.
But—
“We already have the upper hand.”
Other companies wouldn’t even have connections,
let alone know he was attempting something this prestigious.
“If we slap our FJ Instant Rice branding on him for the Asian qualifiers... isn’t that it?”
“Exactly! The ad impact will be insane. And if he actually makes it to the Olympics—just imagine!”
“And what if he wins gold? Huh? We tie the contract incentives to his performance—you get what I’m saying, right?!”
“Yes, sir. I can tell you’re very excited.”
And it wasn’t just FJ.
“I’m losing my mind—I need a piece of this! Is Actor—no, Athlete—Kim Donghu available?!”
“‘The Spice of Victory! The Heat of a Punch Meets the Heat of Fire Chicken Ramen!’ The slogans are writing themselves!”
Even Ilyang Foods, which had only just signed him, was already brainstorming.
“A 19-year-old national team hopeful’s school uniform? This’ll fly off the shelves!”
And Brilliant School Uniforms, who had maintained a good relationship with Donghu,
rushed to draft new contracts as well.
*****
Meanwhile, whispers spread through the sports industry.
“I heard Korea has an incredible prospect?”
The news started catching fire.
“Could Korea’s boxing legacy, which hasn’t seen gold since 1988, be reignited?”
And wouldn’t it be great to be part of that journey?
“Redhorn sure thinks so.”
Redhorn, a leading sports drink brand, was the first to make a move.
Domestic heavyweight boxers are rare.
While the international stage might be different,
in Korea, there were very few.
‘Back when I competed in high school, even a round of 16 was rare.’
Sometimes there were 8 contenders—sometimes only 4.
And it wasn’t much better in the adult division.
The fact that last year’s National Sports Festival started with the semifinals
said everything about how barren Korea’s heavyweight scene was.
‘But it’s understandable because of the size differences.’
Heavyweight boxing belonged to the world stage—
a domain dominated by Western athletes.
So maybe that’s why—
“Donghu, I’m looking for sparring partners, but it’s harder than I thought.”
“It’s okay, I expected this.”
“Still, I’m sorry.”
“Coach, it’s not your fault there aren’t many fighters in Korea. It is what it is.”
Finding sparring partners in Korea was nearly impossible.
But that didn’t stop training.
‘At least Coach is quickly regaining his old form.’
Under Baek Sangha’s increasingly intense training,
Donghu sharpened his instincts and skills.
“Donghu, I got a call! But...”
They’d finally found a sparring partner.
Yet instead of celebrating,
Coach Baek looked uneasy.
“There’s a problem—since there are so few fighters, thugs are getting involved.”
Hearing Coach Baek curse for the first time
made it clear how much he disliked this opponent.
“This guy thinks beating up people in street fights qualifies him to dominate boxing.”
“What?”
“You know the type—the ones who brag about ‘owning Incheon’ or whatever.”
But apparently,
he had enough talent to get officially registered.
Even won Rookie of the Year.
Baek’s expression grew more complicated as he continued.
The guy was technically qualified,
but his attitude was a huge red flag.
“Just set it up, Coach. I’m fine with it.”
“Are you sure? But still...”
Baek looked genuinely disgusted at the thought of working with this guy.
He ran his hands down his face like he was physically trying to wipe away the idea.
“...Fine. Sparring’s more important. It’ll be fine, right?”
“Yes, and I trust you completely, Coach.”
“Alright. Just trust me—I’ll make sure nothing weird happens.”
“Got it.”
With that settled, training resumed.
Boxing demands stamina above all else.
Without stamina,
you couldn’t punch,
you couldn’t move.
So the training focused entirely on building endurance.
Basics and discipline—
with just one year until the big match,
it might seem too simple.
But—
‘This is exactly what I need.’
Right now, I didn’t need flashy techniques.
I needed fundamentals and mindset.
I’d already downloaded the talent,
and my physicality was more than ready to handle it.
But there was one thing I had to build myself.
‘The mentality.’
It wasn’t enough to possess talent.
It wasn’t enough to control it easily.
I needed the mindset to keep pushing and evolving.
“Five minutes on the sandbag! How long?!”
“Five minutes!”
Five minutes of nonstop punches.
The final round meant going all out.
‘Jaw, temple, face, liver, heart.’
Focused only on striking human weak points.
Bam!
Bam!
Bam!
Bam!
The sandbag barely swayed.
It stayed steady as I drilled it with precision for five straight minutes.
Ding!
The bell signaled the end of the round.
“Huff... huff... haah.”
I let out a long breath, signaling the end of three grueling hours of endurance training.
And as if she had been waiting for this exact moment—
“Here’s a towel and some water! Sip the water slowly!”
Yerin, who had unofficially declared herself my manager, appeared with supplies in hand.
“Why are you doing this? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“How can a manager go to school while her athlete is training? I’m right where I need to be.”
“...”
Of course, Yerin wasn’t actually working as my full-time manager.
This was just a short-term thing—she spent most of her time focused on modeling.
With her big break approaching,
it was time for her to build a solid foundation to capitalize on the opportunity.
‘It’s hard to criticize her when she’s balancing this and her modeling classes so well.’
Maybe my thoughts showed too clearly on my face.
“I know, I’m working hard at modeling too. So stop looking at me like that.”
Yerin gave me a bright smile.
“Anyway, there’s only a year left, right?”
“Huh? Until the Olympics?”
“No, until we turn 20. Don’t you remember?”
What was she talking about?
‘What’s she referring to now?’
I was about to ask when—
“I promised to show you everything.”
Her voice, soft and teasing, whispered right in my ear.
“W-what the hell are you talking about?!”
I stumbled back in shock.
This girl really had no fear.
“You really don’t know how scary guys can be.”
“That’s why I’m learning from you—just how scary they can be.”
I couldn’t win against her.
‘Why do I always lose when I talk to her?’
I didn’t get it.
We ended up killing time with random banter until—
“Donghu! The schedule’s set. They said next week works.”
“Sounds good to me. But can we decide the location?”
“The location? Huh? Where do you want it?”
“Right here. I’d rather do it at our gym.”
“Oh, I already took care of that. They’re coming here. Honestly, why should Korea’s ‘Crown Prince’ have to go anywhere, huh?”
“Exactly! Exactly!”
That last response was Yerin’s.
Why was everyone around me getting better at showering me with praise?
Hearing it always made me want to crawl into a hole.
*****
“Who the hell does this punk think he is, telling us to come to him?!”
“Well, we need this match, so we don’t have a choice.”
Hwang Hyungcheol, the man who wanted to “teach Kim Donghu a lesson,” scowled.
“Even a mutt gets a confidence boost on its own turf...”
“You’re not going to lose just because of that, are you?”
Hyungcheol’s coach decided to stop talking before he fueled the fire further.
His fighter had skill, but the guy never shut up.
If he kept humoring him,
Hyungcheol would keep griping all the way until the match started.
“Stop whining and warm up. The match is in an hour.”
“What’s there to warm up for? It’s just some punk high schooler. Don’t make me laugh.”
Despite his words,
Hyungcheol started preparing as soon as they arrived at Baek Sang MMA Gym.
Srrrip.
He took off his shirt immediately,
revealing the irezumi tattoos that twisted across his muscles.
It was an intimidation tactic—
meant to rattle his opponent with raw physical presence.
But—
“Hello, I’m Kim Donghu. I look forward to sparring with you today.”
“Oh... uh, yeah.”
Even after Hyungcheol deliberately responded with a dismissive tone,
Donghu remained perfectly calm.
He even extended a handshake.
‘Most people flinch when they see me up close.’
But Donghu’s face showed no fear—
and that pissed him off.
‘Damn punk. I need to wipe that look off his face.’
Provocation was standard before a match,
so Hyungcheol searched for a weak spot—
and found one.
“That girl standing behind you—is she your girlfriend?”
“What?”
“Her. The one with the killer body. Not bad.”
Hyungcheol expected Donghu to glance back reflexively.
But—
“What are you trying to say?”
Donghu didn’t even blink.
His lips were still smiling,
but his eyes weren’t.
“Do comments like that make you feel better?”
“...What?”
Hyungcheol faltered,
caught off guard by the unexpected response.
And then—
CRACK.
The handshake turned into a crushing grip.
“Guhh... ugh...!”
Hyungcheol instinctively tried to match the pressure,
but his strength was completely overwhelmed.
‘My grip strength is 55kg—how is this possible?!’
Before Hyungcheol’s hand could actually get hurt—
“Let’s warm up and start the match.”
Donghu released him,
smiling politely like nothing had happened.
“...You bastard! What the hell?!”
This chapter is updated by freēwēbnovel.com.
Hyungcheol shouted, but Donghu ignored him completely.
“Donghu, is something wrong?”
“No, nothing. Everything’s fine.”
Baek Sangha glanced at him, sensing something unusual.
But Donghu brushed it off and began wrapping his hands.
There was no need to explain further.
He’d let his fists do the talking.