Other than taking Purdy to the animal hospital the next day, Junho’s routine barely changed after that.
Every day at dawn, he ran sixteen kilometers. He kept up his bodyweight workouts at home, and four times a week he went to the gym and spent over an hour building strength.
Even in the middle of that, he steadily kept picking up all kinds of knowledge and information to prepare for the apocalypse, while also studying for his drone certification, hunting license, and firearms license.
And the brothers passed the written drone certification exam without any trouble.
Maybe Junhyeok had really gotten into drones, because every day he walked Purdy while flying one.
At one point he wrecked one pretty spectacularly, but it was a cheap model they had bought for practice anyway, so it was no big deal.
Junho bought two low-end practice drones and two high-performance drones for actual use in the apocalypse. All on a forty-eight-month installment plan, of course.
Purdy also adapted quickly to living at home with the Junho brothers.
Normally, he moved freely between the yard and the house, but when it came time to sleep, he always slept in the kennel they had set up in the yard.
Nobody had forced him outside or trained him to do that, but he acted as if it were the obvious thing and did it on his own.
Thinking it was probably because of his history of living on the streets and then going through an animal shelter made Junho feel sorry for him all over again, but on the other hand, since Purdy would be taking on an important role in the shelter, it was actually a relief.
So originally, Junho had planned to let him adjust at home for about a month before starting training, but he decided to move the plan up.
As it happened, there was a dog hotel and training center near the gym, so he decided to leave Purdy there.
Back in the military, he had learned the basics from a military dog handler, but he judged that proper training was better left to a professional.
Of course, he didn’t just leave Purdy there by himself. Junho went too and took part in the owner-involved training sessions.
Maybe it was because Purdy was so smart, but the trainer praised him heavily, saying he was nearly perfect whether Junho was there or not.
While all that was going on, the newlywed couple who had bought his old apartment transferred the remaining balance. They had moved earlier than scheduled.
Without a second of hesitation, Junho put all of that money into buying more coin.
Selene coin had already climbed past 8,000 won, and judging by the chart, it looked like it would start soaring in earnest before long.
There were only a few million won left in his bank account now, but Junho wasn’t worried at all.
At the end of the month, his paycheck would come in, and at the end of the following month, more than ten million won was scheduled to hit the account once his severance pay was included.
That would be enough to comfortably get through another three or four months before cashing out the coin.
Whenever he had time, Junho also checked the price of the coin.
Just as expected, it had been drawing a steady upward curve, rising by several hundred won practically every day.
There were even days when it jumped by nearly 1,000 won in a single day.
He had no plans to buy any more, and at this point all that remained was for it to explode upward, so Junho decided not to think about the coin again until March.
And just like that, about a month flew by, and before he knew it, the end of the year was right around the corner.
***
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!
Junho ran fast on the treadmill.
The coach, a former pro fighter, checked the speed and distance displayed on the machine and nodded with a satisfied look.
A man who had run eight kilometers at dawn, spent an hour doing strength training at the gym, then come to the MMA gym for various drills and even done two rounds of striking sparring—
was now running on the treadmill for over three minutes at a pace of eighteen kilometers per hour, covering one hundred meters in twenty seconds.
From the coach’s perspective, how could he not be pleased?
It had already been over three weeks since Junho signed up at the MMA gym his younger brother Junhyeok attended.
Normally, a new member like Junho would have started out in group classes, but because of the health guidelines and because Junho was so exceptionally talented, the coach had taken him one-on-one instead.
Junho had trained in taekwondo consistently up through the second year of middle school, and as a former reconnaissance unit soldier, he already had a certain amount of body sense.
Even so, the kind of absurd talent he had shown—mastering footwork and steps, head movement like weaving, and even combinations that mixed boxing combos with kicks in just three weeks—was unbelievable.
This week, he had even started sparring with the coach under stand-up rules, two three-minute rounds.
It wasn’t full sparring, and the coach, who was one weight class above him, had been taking it easy, but considering Junho’s age was already on the older side for someone starting combat sports, it was astonishing to the point of being almost unheard of.
Not just the coach—even the gym owner had said it was a shame Junho hadn’t started four or five years earlier, because if he had, he easily could have become a ranked fighter in Korea.
“That’s it. Good work today.”
“Yes, thank you. You too, Coach.”
As Junho wiped off his sweat, the coach asked in a casual tone,
“But are you really going to stop at just recreational competition? You really have no interest in a tournament or anything?”
Junho shook his head with an apologetic expression.
“It hasn’t even been a month yet. What tournament would I be entering?”
“I’m not joking. You’ve got talent, I’m telling you. Even doing an amateur tournament once would be good experience. From what I can see, Junho, if you train hard for about six months—call it a year on the long end—you could even go pro. Seriously.”
“I really appreciate you thinking so highly of me, but I’m not considering that right now. I’ll just keep learning as hard as I can.”
“Man... what a waste. Such a waste. Anyway, give it some time and think it over. If you ever want to compete, just tell me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Avoiding the coach’s gaze, which somehow felt uncannily similar to the gym trainer’s, Junho quickly finished showering and headed home.
***
The next day.
After finishing his workout at the gym as usual, eating breakfast at home, and coming to the MMA gym, Junho tilted his head.
The place seemed oddly noisy.
“Youngchan, something going on?”
His younger brother Junhyeok usually trained in the afternoons, so Junho casually asked one of the members he had gotten familiar with in the meantime.
“Oh, Junho hyung, you’re here. Team South came up from Busan. I heard there’s supposed to be some sparring.”
“Oh, really?”
As the health restrictions eased, in-person exchanges between MMA gyms, which had been suspended for a long time, had started up again.
Of course, it still wasn’t like the old days where big groups moved around, but in this industry, the mood was that even being able to do it on a small scale was something to be grateful for.
“But... why’s it so loud?”
“The Team South guys are always kind of loud. They’re funny and entertaining, but honestly, even being around them for ten minutes totally drains you.”
Sure enough, laughter thick with the Gyeongsang dialect burst out through the open door.
“I’m tellin’ you, that punk’s lyin’. Hey, say it straight. You’re the reason Yuchai got the wrong idea, ain’t that right?”
“I didn’t get the wrong idea. It’s just true that even back then, Seoki was more reliable than you, Taesu.”
“You heard that, hyung? Even Yuchai hyung admits it, doesn’t he?”
“Damn... now the two of you are gangin’ up to make me ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) look bad again.”
A whole pack of rough-looking men whose fierce faces matched the rough dialect came out with the gym owner.
But unlike their intimidating looks, the way they acted around him was so familiar that they clearly seemed very close.
After laughing with them for a while, the owner said with an apologetic expression,
“Still, I’m sorry. You came all the way here, and who could’ve known Youngjin would test positive all of a sudden?”
“We already stopped by Incheon, so it’s fine. What can you do? Is Youngji doing okay?”
“He tested positive, but apparently he’s fine. Says he’s holed up at home.”
“That guy’s always failing his weight cut. Ain’t he gonna come back looking fat as hell?”
“Then we’ll run him into the ground. Anyway, I’m sorry to you too, Taesu. You said your guys were Jeongsu and Sangho, right?”
“Yes, sir!”
The two young men who bowed deeply had the solid builds you’d expect from fighters, but their faces still looked a little young.
“Our Youngjin was looking forward to today too. He said he was really disappointed. He told me to make sure to apologize.”
“It’s all right. We can meet healthy next time. It’s an honor to meet you today, sir.”
“Yeah. It was good meeting you too. And I’ll make sure our Youngjin gets matched with the youngest one, Sangho, next time.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll keep training hard until then.”
The owner, a first-generation MMA fighter, was a respected senior figure in the industry.
Because of various circumstances, he had never made it to the UFC, but he had performed so impressively in Korea and Japan that fight fans still brought him up all the time whenever they played hypothetical matchup games.
That was why even promising fighters in their early twenties showed him this much respect.
“Hyung, then we’ll get goin’.”
“Yeah. Heading over to Gangnam?”
“Yes, sir. Gotta stop by and see Dongyei hyung before we go.”
“Go ahead, then.”
The Team South people chatted quietly with the owner as they walked toward the entrance of the gym.
Then suddenly, the gaze of the Team South guy called Taesu landed on Junho.
“Huh?”
“...?”
He hurried over, looked Junho up and down, and said,
“Mind if I ask what weight class you are?”
“Sorry? Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“Ah, here he goes again.”
Another Team South member quickly stepped in and bowed politely to Junho.
“Sorry about that. Our hyung’s got this disease where he loses his mind whenever he sees somebody with a good build. Don’t take it too badly.”
“Was I really that bad? Sorry about that. It ain’t a disease, I’m just a little quick-tempered by nature. Anyway, I apologize.”
“And why’d you add anyway? You could’ve just said sorry.”
“Oh, right. Then just plain sorry.”
“No... it’s fine. Really.”
It was just like he had heard earlier.
It hadn’t even been one minute, let alone ten, and Junho already felt drained. Waving his hands awkwardly, he bowed back.
Then the owner, who had been watching the whole scene with a smile, walked over.
“Taesu, what is it? You interested in our Junho?”
“Ah, so your name’s Junho, sir? I’m Kim Taesu from Team South. Nice to meet you.”
“Yes, nice to meet you. I’m Lee Junho.”
After greeting him politely, Kim Taesu looked Junho up and down one more time and asked in a quiet voice,
“But seriously, you’ve got one hell of a body. Looks like you’ve been training for a long time. What weight class are you?”
“Uh, I only started training here not even a month ago. I’m probably a welterweight.”
“A month? You said a month?”
Kim Taesu’s eyes went wide.
At his look, which clearly wanted confirmation, the owner nodded with a proud expression.
“It’s true. Has it been just over three weeks now? But he’s already doing stand-up sparring with Taeyoung.”
“Junho’s really good. We’re taking it easy on him because of the weight difference, but he’s got pop. His shots feel clean.”
When Coach Taeyoung chimed in too, Kim Taesu’s eyes grew even wider.
“Seriously? Wow...”
He saw this kind of reaction so often by now that he should have been used to it, but getting that kind of sticky stare from a man—worse, a hulking muscular one—was still creepy.
“Junho, you said welterweight, right?”
“Yes.”
As if thinking something over, Kim Taesu turned to the owner.
“Hyung, then how about this? Maybe Junho here could go with our youngest guy Sangho, if not Jeongsu.”
“What? Junho and your youngest?”
“Yes. Weight class matches, and from what I’m hearing, seems like you’re trying to raise him up pretty seriously, aren’t you?”
“He’s recreational, so it’s not like I’m trying to raise him, but...”
The owner looked at Junho, who still seemed a little lost, smacked his lips once, then carefully said,
“What do you think, Junho? Want to do a sparring round?”
“Sparring?”
“Yeah. Youngjin was supposed to go with these guys, but he called this morning and said he tested positive.”
Junho’s gaze shifted to the side.
Two young men in their early twenties. Their faces still looked youthful, but they didn’t seem ordinary.
Of the two, the one named Sangho looked even younger than his younger brother Junhyeok, but his face suggested he had a pretty fierce streak in him.
“They came all the way up here from Busan, and I feel terrible just sending them back like this. Ah, of course, it’d be good experience for you too. Sangho’s one of Team South’s promising fighters. He’s been training there for over a year.”
After the owner, Kim Taesu stepped in.
“Yeah, our Team South welterweight prospect. Because of COVID, he’s always sparring with just us, so I think the kid’s gettin’ a little sick of it. Now that the restrictions are easing up, we brought him up to try him against some fighters from the capital area. Sangho doesn’t have any matches until summer, so full sparring’s fine. We’d really appreciate it.”
“What do you think, Junho? Since it’s stand-up, it’ll be less pressure. Of course, if you don’t want to, you can say no.”
“I’ll do it.”
Junho accepted the owner’s careful suggestion right away.
There was no need to think about it.
In the first place, the whole reason he was learning combat sports was to prepare for real situations in the apocalypse.
He needed to hide the full extent of his physical abilities to some degree, sure—but the chance to go full sparring with a near-pro who had trained systematically since high school and was expected to debut?
And on top of that, the second the man heard his answer, he had lit up with that look in his eyes, like, Let’s see what you’ve got.
“Rather, I should be the one thanking you for the opportunity.”
