"You're out of ti? Could you clarify exactly what you an by that?"
I had been about to put the mic down, but I lifted it again at the reporter’s question.
"Exactly what I said. I don’t have ti for a rematch."
"Should we interpret that as a packed schedule?"
"That’s right. I can’t go into detail, but let’s just say—my life as an actor is in motion."
"A new project! You’re filming sothing, I know at least one!"
So... there’s more than one, huh?
At that, I gave a small nod, thinking that should be enough.
"But today’s about boxing, haha."
"Ah! Yes, of course. I understand."
Normally, I don’t do interviews right before a match. But this ti, I insisted. I wanted to broadcast the calm I was feeling right now.
"Lastly, could we hear any final words before you enter the ring?"
"I’ll crush him—purely with the strength of Kim Donghu, the man."
And with that, the interview ended. It barely lasted three minutes. It didn’t take long at all, and the mont it was over, I stood up for the match.
"Did you see the article? I shot for all four major Vogue magazines. First Asian ever."
"I did. I sent you a congratulatory ssage, rember?"
"As a celebration, rember we promised to spend this Christmas—just the two of us?"
Back in the waiting room, Yerim was prepping a few things when she said that, and for a mont, I stayed silent.
Right... we did make that promise.
Christmas plans. December 25th, 2020 to be exact.
It’s mid-November now, so a little under a month left.
There wasn’t any scheduling conflict, so I opened my mouth to respond—
And at that mont—
Smack.
Yerim kissed , deep and deliberate. Only when our breaths were heavy did her lips part from mine.
"Both Sujin and Jaerin... they’ve each spent a Christmas with you, right? Even if not Christmas, you’ve had plenty of alone ti with them."
"That’s true."
"And that Evelyn woman from Tarzan, too."
I knew exactly where Yerim was going with this, so I chuckled and gently ran a hand through her hair. She nuzzled into it as she continued.
"But lately, we haven’t had enough ti together. I need you to make ti for too."
"Of course. Absolutely."
"I’m even going on variety shows next year. I’ll be working in Korea again."
"Really?"
"I’m telling you because I want us to go on together, you know?"
"I got the ssage loud and clear."
I’m not the man I used to be. I said that to myself as I headed toward the ring.
What I saw was a massive crowd and flashing caras. And a line of fans stretching along the path to the ring, hands outstretched.
I gave them casual high-fives on my way in—
"The WBC Champion! Donghu Kim! Now entering the ring!"
My entrance music was Beethoven’s Fate. The stormy piano lody filled the stadium, cooling the wild energy in the air and cloaking it in grandeur.
It was ti to end Edward’s reign.
***
"Tch, what kind of ridiculous song..."
Normally, no one uses classical music as an entrance the. It kills the mood. Makes things feel slow.
No matter how majestic or beautiful the piece, it usually doesn’t hype up the crowd the way other songs do.
Gulp.
But the mont Beethoven’s Fate began to play, tension hit hard. Kim Donghu didn’t need to promote Tarzan anymore. And now, he was stepping in with zero pretense.
"Co on, you can beat him. You’ve been training for this mont! That guy’s been off sightseeing!"
"Huff, yeah... You’re right."
At his coach’s words, Edward snapped back to reality. Why had he lost focus just now?
Muttering under his breath, Edward slapped his own cheeks a couple tis.
Slap, slap!
Maybe it actually worked. Because suddenly, ti felt like it was moving faster around him.
His condition was improving by the second. Every ti he blinked, the world around him seed to shift.
"You’ve never looked this small before."
And as the match began, Edward saw Kim Donghu—and he looked... small.
It felt like he could take him out at any ti. How had the montum flipped like this?
Maybe this was his day to win.
Thinking that—
"Box!"
The match began. The mont after the glove tap—
Whoosh!
Edward threw a punch imdiately. He wanted to keep the montum from breaking. He launched into an aggressive opening assault.
But—
Slide.
As if he’d predicted it, Kim Donghu tilted his head slightly and dodged with ease.
And at the sa ti—
Thud!
His fist landed squarely in Edward’s solar plexus. The impact lifted Edward’s feet off the ground.
"Guh!"
His back, which had been held straight by spinal tension, curled up like a shrimp from just that one punch.
Crunch.
This wasn’t a hit-and-pull punch. It was a stake—driven deep into his core like a piledriver.
It felt like the fist had buried itself deep inside his body, supporting Edward’s limp form completely.
The comntators watching it were stunned into silence.
“F-Five seconds into the match... it looks like... Edward is down!”
“Yes, yes... that ans... Kim Donghu is currently holding up a 110-kilogram man with one arm.”
“Just like in the last fight—it’s like he’s built with heavy-duty machinery. A... a pile bunker...”
Even if people expected him to win,
no one imagined it would be this overwhelming.
The shock was all over their faces.
And it wasn’t just the comntators.
Every professional boxer in the audience felt exactly the sa.
“If soone has that much strength, they’re usually slow or their accuracy drops. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?”
“That was a perfect clean-hit counter. Sure, that alone shouldn’t lead to a one-punch KO... but still.”
How is sothing like that even possible?
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
“A thousand in the Big Three... I’ve heard people say he could easily hit that mark.”
“Normally, functional strength and raw lifting strength are totally different, but... maybe we’ve all been wrong?”
In the face of overwhelming power, all previous logic collapsed.
The referee rushed in to help Edward to his feet.
And a reporter hurried over, mic in hand, to get near Kim Donghu.
“T-The match is over! In five seconds! I-I an... this is just... completely overwhelming!”
It was so one-sided, there were no words left to describe it. There was no struggle. No difficult exchanges.
Just smooth and clean. Boxing in its most fundantal form—dodge, then hit.
And this was the result of executing that perfectly.
Snapping out of it, the reporter finally held the mic up to Donghu.
“Th-that was an overwhelming performance. You said you didn’t have ti—was this why?”
“Yes, exactly. Unfortunately, I no longer had ti to spend on Edward.”
“Do you have anything else you’d like to say?”
“As long as I don’t retire, the WBC heavyweight title is going to remain mine.”
And I’ll apologize for that in advance. And then, taking it a step further—
“I will unify the heavyweight titles across all boxing organizations.”
So please, don’t break so easily. For the sake of my fans’ entertainnt.
The mont Kim Donghu finished speaking—
[Is Kim Donghu actually insane? What even was that...]
– This guy’s gone feral since Hollywood.
– He literally told his opponent not to die too easily.
└ What the hell is he planning ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) to beco?
└ Fact: he’s already enormous.
└ ㄴDamn... okay, I gotta give it to him. For real.
[Seriously, how long are we going to do this ‘stay humble’ nonsense?]
– Always that "Westerners this, Aricans that" crap, trying to guilt him into being modest.
– Donghu doesn’t need to be humble.
└ We need this kind of energy sotis.
└ Makes it even more fun to watch.
└ A five-second KO? That’s legendary.
└ Looks like he went easy last match.
[Smartest dude of the hour]
– Bought every Donghu-related coin before the match < LOL
– Yeah yeah, made 50% profit in 5 seconds, no big deal.
└ Wait, there’s Donghu crypto?
└ It’s called imagination, my guy.
└ Stocks and coins run on vibes. Vibes and guts.
[Wisest guy of the hour]
– Didn’t order chicken ‘cause I knew the match would be over early.
– Told you the first match was just showti.
– This one? Mandatory rematch in the contract. No reason to drag it out.
└ This has to be real.
└ Is there even a boxer alive who can match Donghu’s level now?
└ One thing’s certain—it’s not Edward.
Online communities exploded.
As expected.
Even with all the “instant KO” hype—no one predicted five seconds.
And to not only send a man flying with a punch, but to fold him in half?
Who in the world could’ve seen that coming?
Even “destructive” didn’t quite fit. It was a match that ended in the blink of an eye.
So once again, the world chanted Kim Donghu’s na.
And at this very mont, Donghu himself—
“Musashi and The Pianist—both studio sets are ready?”
“Yep. The timing’s perfect. So what do you want to do? Rest for a bit? Or go straight in?”
“Let’s go straight in. Just leave Christmas open.”
—was already preparing for his next schedule.
***
It’s common for actors to work on multiple projects at once.
But in Kim Donghu’s case, there was a serious problem—
“Musashi is filming in Korea... and The Pianist is shooting in the U.S.? Great.”
The two filming locations were on literal opposite ends of the globe.
A 13 to 15 hour flight apart.
No matter how good your stamina, that kind of commute takes a toll. So Dezni proposed a very light solution.
“Should we gift Kim Donghu a private jet? You know, to show we want to be with him for life?”
“We’ll cover the full cost. Really, just as a gift... wouldn’t it be perfect?”
Just as they were about to present Kim Donghu with his very own private jet—
“Wait!”
Soone burst into the eting room.
“This just ca in—but apparently, we’re not the only company that wants to gift Kim Donghu a private jet.”
“What?”
“Everyone’s calling it the ‘Kim Donghu Private Jet’—they all want exclusive branding rights on the plane.”
“Shit! We need to lock this down fast. Do we call an ergency video conference with the others or what?!”
And just like that, a surprise bidding war broke out over who would get to give Kim Donghu his private jet.
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