‘...What’s wrong with me?’
I could feel my heart pounding violently for no reason.
I’d thought countless times before that Kim Donghu was handsome,
and it was true that I started liking him because of that.
But this feeling was different.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
My heart kept racing.
‘What is this...?’
Kim Donghu’s image entered Shin Yerin’s eyes.
A 2nd-round TKO in 2 minutes.
Yet, he stepped down from the ring, calmly taking off his headgear,
with a peaceful expression that didn’t match the unbelievable result.
‘...What is this? Why am I acting like this?’
Her gaze stayed fixed on Donghu’s upper body.
Normally, this would be the time to bring him a towel and water,
but her feet wouldn’t move.
‘Is it because of me again?’
Kim Donghu didn’t usually go all out during sparring.
The only time he had was once in the past—
when an opponent insulted someone close to him.
‘This is exactly the same.’
Did this opponent insult her too? Is that why he fought so intensely?
She wanted to ask, but her lips wouldn’t move.
An unexplainable tension gripped her body.
“Why are you so stiff? Are you okay?”
When Donghu approached her first,
Shin Yerin, without even realizing it—
Thud.
Placed her hand on his chest.
“S-Sorry!”
Even though she was the one who touched him,
Shin Yerin was more startled than anyone.
“...Why are you sorry? You’ve seen this plenty of times.”
Right.
Shin Yerin had seen Donghu’s upper body more than anyone.
After all, she was practically his self-proclaimed boxing manager.
But why was she reacting like this now?
‘What’s wrong with me?’
A new problem had just emerged for Shin Yerin.
*****
Two months after the sparring session—
“Hmm.”
Baek Sang MMA Gym was experiencing an unprecedented boom.
The number of members hit an all-time high,
bringing in an incredible amount of money.
But Baek Sangha, a man filled to the bone with martial arts,
wasn’t entirely happy about the situation.
“No offense, but just because you register here doesn’t mean you’ll get to meet Kim Donghu.”
“Huh? Why not? Won’t he be training here?”
“He trains separately.”
“Then if I train separately, can I meet him?”
“No, and I might
not even be the one coaching you personally.”
“Oh... Is that so? Then never mind.”
“Alright. Take care.”
Baek Sangha enforced strict rules, ensuring that only those serious about training could join the gym.
He filtered out anyone whose intentions weren’t focused on exercise.
Still, the gym’s reputation as the place where a rising boxing star trained
attracted so many members that it was bursting at the seams—
despite all the conditions Baek Sangha imposed.
Of course—
“...You’re really doing this?”
“Yes, just lightly.”
“Ah... I don’t think I can come tomorrow.”
“If you let us know in advance, we’ll process your refund without issue.”
“Then I’d like a refund.”
The influx of new members also meant a proportional increase in refunds.
Even for hobbyists,
exercise without a clear goal was hard to sustain.
‘Especially after a long day of work—moving again is exhausting.’
Still, there were a few who kept showing up consistently.
“What did Donghu train today?”
“Uh... Mostly running to avoid stressing his joints.”
“Then I’ll do that too.”
“He also did some stair workouts.”
“Wow... I’ll do that too.”
Kim Sujin—
“Will you teach me how to hold mitts later?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’ll focus on boxing.”
Ryu Jaerin—
“I think... I want to try everything! I want variety!”
“Sure. By the way, your Korean is really good.”
“Hehe. I studied a lot because of Donghu-senpai.”
Usami Chisako said.
And then there was Shin Yerin, who had kept working out steadily while managing Donghu’s schedule.
They couldn’t come in regularly due to their busy schedules,
but they were improving noticeably whenever they did.
‘Come to think of it, all of them are connected to Donghu.’
And every single one of them showed immense potential.
Maybe it was because he’d been a coach for so long—
Baek Sangha had developed a sharp eye for spotting people with big futures.
‘Hmm... But it seems like all of them like Donghu.’
But Korea had a monogamy law, didn’t it?
Well, Donghu would figure it out somehow.
Baek Sangha shrugged and let the thought go.
Time flew quickly, and before he knew it, it was May.
“...Wow. Is this even possible?”
Kim Donghu’s body was steadily transforming.
“Seven kilograms in four months... That’s insane, Donghu.”
Through clean bulking,
his height and weight now measured 185 cm and 93 kg.
Considering the weight limit for his division was 91 kg,
his current bulk was nearly ideal.
“How’s your body feeling? Holding up okay?”
“Yeah, no issues at all. My speed’s still fine. I think I can bulk up even more.”
“I’d like to see you hit 100 at least once. But we’ll monitor your health as we go.”
“Got it.”
As they talked, Donghu prepared for another round of cardio,
while Baek Sangha swallowed nervously as he watched him leave.
‘Honestly, his physique is insane.’
There was a sense of pressure—
a sheer presence that made him seem larger and stronger than life.
He looked like a tiger walking around in human form.
With his naturally broad frame,
it was clear to anyone that he was an athlete.
‘But usually, bulking makes your face rounder.’
Yet despite gaining seven kilograms,
his jawline remained sharp.
Baek Sangha had no choice but to acknowledge—
that some people just looked good no matter what they did.
“Ah, right!”
Suddenly shouting, Baek Sangha rushed to check his email.
As expected.
‘Today was the deadline.’
Kim Donghu’s overseas training schedule had just been finalized.
*****
“Donghu, things feel a little unusual lately.”
“Huh?”
“You know that script Jinwoo asked you to check out?”
“Oh, yeah. I remember.”
“He’s getting ready to start filming it.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. He said he didn’t even hesitate after you recommended it. That’s how it happened.”
Right. That’s how it went.
I recalled Jinwoo hyung’s message from before.
‘He asked me to pick one out of three scripts, right?’
And I ended up choosing Assassination, The Spy.
A blockbuster that went well beyond ten million viewers.
It would surely leave a strong mark on Jinwoo hyung’s filmography too.
Seokho hyung, clearly wrapping up the small talk, shifted gears and straightened his posture.
He pushed three proposal documents toward me.
“...What’s this?”
“A documentary.”
“Like the one you did for The Flame Theater?”
“Yeah, but this time it’s not about the theater...”
So they wanted to capture Boxer Kim Donghu in a documentary.
Honestly, I was a bit dazed by the idea.
“I mean... I’m not even on the national team yet. Isn’t this a bit too soon?”
Three major TV networks had come together with proposals.
Even offering shared production rights, like last time.
“They swear they’ll shoot quietly without interfering, but how can we trust that?”
“Well... actually, when they did The Flame Theater documentary, they really did keep their word.”
“Yeah? Anyway, I wanted to get your thoughts first since they’ve made these offers.”
Still... wasn’t this trying to buy in at rock bottom?
I flipped through the contract.
Maybe they realized it themselves.
For a “rock bottom” deal, the payout was substantial.
And the incentive clauses were even set aside separately.
“This is... a lot different from typical documentary contracts.”
“They’re probably betting on you being the new face of boxing.”
“Yeah... especially since Korean boxing’s been...”
“In a slump?”
“Right. Oh, and speaking of that, Coach Baek Sangha.”
“Yeah?”
“Some agencies think he might need representation down the road. If he’s interested, could you let him know?”
Seokho hyung’s eyes shone with confidence as he said that.
‘He’s sure I’ll succeed.’
Not just in winning a gold medal—
but in making a name for myself as a whole.
He looked at me like he trusted me even more than I trusted myself.
And that faith gave me strength.
“Oh, and Redhorn reached out.”
“Huh?”
“They didn’t say much—just sent an email saying they’re keeping an eye on you and supporting you.”
Seokho hyung tilted his head as he showed me the email from Redhorn.
Redhorn.
That famous sports drink company.
The fact they reached out was surprising enough.
But the email really just said they were watching and cheering me on.
“Weird, right?”
“Yeah, definitely.”
“Maybe they’re thinking of sponsoring you but want to see results first?”
“...That’s possible. Oh, by the way, I’m heading to the U.S. soon.”
“Oh, I know. Training camp, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what about the documentary? You don’t have to decide right now, but communication might get slower once you’re abroad.”
I paused to think.
“I’ll do it. But can they follow me overseas during training?”
“They’ll have to figure that out themselves. I’ll let them know you’re in.”
“Okay.”
“You’re sure this won’t disrupt your training?”
“No worries. I’ve thought this through.”
Training overseas...
‘What kind of people will I meet?’
It’d be a lie to say I wasn’t excited.
And right on cue—
“I’m coming too! I’m your manager, so I can go, right?!”
The sourc𝗲 of this content is frёeωebɳovel.com.
Yerin clung to my side.
But lately, why did it feel like she was touching my arm more often?
‘Am I imagining it?’
*****
Meanwhile.
Colorado, USA.
“Hmm... So he’s really coming?”
“Who? Who’s coming?”
At Drake Gym, Coach Jack Drake chuckled as he checked his emails.
“An Asian kid’s coming for training.”
“Really? What’s his weight class? Lightweight? Welterweight?”
“No. Heavyweight.”
“What? An Asian heavyweight? Ha!”
They’d casually told him to come, assuming he wouldn’t actually follow through.
Yet here he was, replying with confirmation—and even an itinerary for next week.
“Where’s he from?”
“Korea.”
“Korea? Haha, this is gonna be interesting.”
Coach Hammer Draco scratched his head.
An Asian heavyweight coming here for training?
“You told him what kind of place this is, right?”
“Of course.”
A hell built for heavyweights.
A graveyard for hopefuls dreaming of heavyweight glory.
Drake Gym was packed with gatekeepers ready to crush those dreams.
And now, an Asian heavyweight dared to step into that hell?
“...R.I.P.”
He couldn’t help but silently offer his condolences.