Chapter 8: Room 101, Cursed Room – ‘A Strange Family’ (3)
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack thvadavhvadahvhadahvhadahv!!!
Amid the raucous noise, Jinchul let out a sigh. What on earth is going on?
It was the sound of his mother glaring at him and clicking her tongue.
Since Jinchul was a kid, whenever he made a mistake or did something lacking, instead of saying a few words, his mother would just click her tongue once as a warning.
That habit of hers hadn’t changed even after he turned thirty.
The only minor adjustment was that she used to look straight at him while clicking her tongue, but today… she was doing it while standing on her hands!
Is her arm okay? Has she always been this strong? His memories felt a bit fuzzy.
“C’mon, Mom, just sit down for a moment. I told you, I totally aced this interview! I really don’t get why you’re so worried.”
“You’ve been saying that for five years now! ‘This time, I did well. This time, nothing will happen!’ And look at this—you’ve quitted three jobs in those five years! I’m terrified to close my eyes knowing that my only son is over thirty and hasn’t accomplished a single thing!”
“Mom, why would you close your eyes? If anyone hears this, they’ll think you’re at least in your eighties or nineties. You just turned sixty! Plus, seeing you do a handstand, you still seem to have plenty of energy!”
“Not a single word from you! Look at you, built like an ox! If you’re a man, you ought to have some dignity! When you were a kid and went to that martial arts studio, not stopping you was my life’s biggest regret!”
Martial arts studio. The moment that topic came up, Jinchul felt a lump in his chest and realized he couldn’t manage his emotions in front of her, so he turned around silently.
Since he was young, Jinchul was considered a sports prodigy. When he was in elementary school, thanks to his remarkable physique, the wrestling team called him the successor of Kang Hodong, and the soccer team hailed him as the second coming of Park Jisung.
However, what truly captivated young Jinchul above all else was the most primal form of sport.
What’s the most primal and wild thing a human can do with a finely tuned body? Ultimately, it boils down to competing with bare fists—martial arts!
Jinchul wasn’t a particularly violent child. Though it might sound silly, he viewed himself as diligent and kind-hearted. He envisioned sharing a bout in the ring with a formidable opponent, never once thinking of turning into a street thug.
Time passed. In the passage of time, prodigies turn into commonplace adults. Jinchul never thought he’d end up fitting that description.
In the realm of ordinary people, his physique was more than enough. Standing at a towering 192 cm with well-developed muscles, most men would step back, feeling intimidated just by his presence, which filled him with immense pride.
However…
He realized that in the world of martial arts, just having a good physique wasn’t sufficient. More accurately, in the realm of heavyweight fighters, they were all half-superhumans who had honed their bodies to perfection. All of them stood over 190 cm and weighed more than 100 kg, so there was no way he could win just based on his physique.
Why is this happening?
Why can’t I react to their strikes? Why do my moves that worked during sparring fail in real fights?
Why does the opponent never fall for my feints while I keep getting pulled into their rhythm?
He lost once, lost twice, and lost three times. It took him five consecutive defeats to finally realize it.
His talent wasn’t enough to hold its ground among true monsters. Jinchul had no place in a world where people could perceive punches that moved faster than the wind and could execute two fakes in less than half a second.
When he snapped back to reality, it was already too late. He was nearing thirty, and all he had to show for it was a record of failure.
No, that’s not right.
In fact, it wasn’t an issue with the objective conditions.
Being in his late twenties, it certainly wasn’t too late to make a comeback, and his well-trained body could easily open doors for a living.
One of his training partners had opened a gym. Some entered the security industry, while others became police officers.
Even if they all had to drop out midway due to a lack of talent, they utilized their exceptional physiques to lead fulfilling lives.
No, the problem lay not with Jinchul’s body but within his heart.
He didn’t want to give up. He didn’t want to take a different path.
Even after getting a job through the recommendation of former colleagues, he quit one after another for various strange reasons and consistently refused offers to co-manage a gym.
As his network dwindled piece by piece, the flame in his heart began to extinguish.
Finally, he recognized that his life was heading nowhere.
It was a deep, gloomy lament. He had resolved to end such thoughts, yet they refused to let go.
He steadied his mind and turned to head home.
First things first—he needed to apologize to his mother. She had been the one holding her lost son together after his father’s sudden passing.
And he genuinely wanted to do his best at this new company.
When he returned home, Jinchul felt a bit flustered.
There stood a familiar face: the grandmaster of the studio he had seen for over ten years!
Ever since his father passed away, the grandmaster had acted as a father figure to him.
Even after he gave up on his dream of becoming a fighter, they maintained good relations, and the interview he just attended at the health-related company was also thanks to the grandmaster’s introduction.
“Wait, Is that you, Mister Park? What brings you to my home?”
“Oh, Jinchul! Quick, thank him! He’s brought you some wonderful news!”
“Haha! It’s nothing that grand! It’s merely that many people know about Jinchul’s earnestness, so these recommendations keep coming through.”
“Mister Park? What’s this news?”
“There’s a big MMA competition happening soon in Busan! This is a huge opportunity! They’ve poured quite a bit of money into it… but, the timing happens to coincide with the XXX competition, leaving the big names unable to participate this time. What does this mean? There will be mostly smaller fighters, but the prize money is decent, and there will be plenty of eyes on this event. This chance doesn’t come around often!”
“Haha… Mister Park, uh, you do know I’ve kinda fallen off the radar, right? Even if there are just little fish, that doesn’t mean much—I’m a little fish myself…”
“Ah, this time is different! They’re holding a ‘last man standing’ style competition that has been trending in Japan lately.”
“Last man standing? What does that even mean? I’ve never heard of it before!”
“You’ve never heard of it? It’s been around for about ten years now—perfectly ridiculous! Basically, only one person survives from the arena. Isn’t that your forte?”
What… this is beyond baffling. There can’t possibly be a scenario where only one survives in an MMA match?
And you’re telling me that’s my specialty? What nonsense…
Ah, I get it. How did I forget about this? When I think back, wasn’t the last man standing format quite popular in Japan during my high school days?
But the memories of that competition popped up, where half of the registered fighters ended up dead, causing a temporary halt. That’s probably why it slipped my mind. Of course, I was suited for this!
Who was I? Wasn’t I the one who beat a flesh-eating monkey with a club? I was a master of the ultimate violence!
With such experiences against monsters, it made perfect sense that I’d be the strongest.
At long last, the long-awaited opportunity had arrived!
But when exactly did I fight a flesh-eating monkey? Is there anything like that in Korea? Not particularly important, I suppose.
Either way, it’s true that I killed a monkey.
Blink.
Waaaaaaaaaaahhh!!!
A tremendous roar echoed from everywhere. What’s happening? I felt like I briefly closed my eyes while talking with the grandmaster, and now…
Suddenly, I found myself standing in the middle of an arena with a massive man on the opposite side.
What in the world is going on?
Ah, I immediately grasped the situation. Today was the day of the Busan last man standing competition!
Honestly, to think that today’s the day and I momentarily lost my senses in the arena! I really can’t be saved sometimes!
Thud thud thud thud thud thud!
Before long, the opponent charged at me with a heavy mace in hand. He closed the distance of about 3 to 4 meters quickly, and the mace at his waist swooshed at me like a whirlwind!
A mace? Why is he using that in an MMA competition? Was it the latest trend?
Thankfully, I had a tonfa ready, so I quickly deflected the mace before it could gain full momentum. A mace is a blunt weapon—not a blade. If you try to block after it reaches speed, it’ll be too late; it could shatter bones with just the impact!
That’s why I closed in and gave it a good deflection, which flustered my opponent. As long as I keep the distance close enough that he can’t swing properly, I have the upper hand!
I swiftly smacked him across the mouth with the tonfa, sending his teeth flying like corn kernels. I felt a thud against my leg as the opponent retaliated with a smack of his mace.
I could bear the hit. Up close, there wasn’t enough room for him to generate much force.
I calmly shoved the tonfa into his mouth, shaking it around until pieces flew out. First came the teeth, followed by unidentified chunks of flesh. As I pushed deeper, a gaping hole appeared in his neck!
Was I always this strong? This isn’t even a sword; how can this wooden tool puncture someone’s throat?
Oh well, strength is what matters! A martial artist should be strong, after all! What’s there to doubt?
As I pulled back, chuckling, the next opponent stepped up. An axe? What a pompous choice of weapon!
If we were on even footing, I couldn’t just rush an axe-wielding opponent with a tonfa.
That is, as long as we were on similar skill levels.
In the blink of an eye, I narrowed a twenty-meter gap in just three strides, seeing the horror flicker in the opponent’s eyes.
Why so shocked? I’m as fast as a tiger right now! When did I obtain such ridiculous physical ability?
If I had had this skill from the beginning, things like reaction speed and psychological warfare wouldn’t have mattered. I’d easily be the world champion by now.
Well, that’s not a problem. I just need to get there, that’s all!
Before the opponent could even swing his axe, my finger pierced through his eyes. It penetrated, crushing his brain and pushing through the front of his skull until reaching the back.
I lost count of how many I killed. Was it ten? Twenty? As I lost track, I found that soon, there was no one left in the arena.
Waaaaaaaaahhhh! Cha Jinchul! Cha Jinchul! Cha Jinchul!!!
An unimaginable crowd was chanting my name. The pent-up frustrations building over the last ten years or perhaps more, dissolved in an instant.
On the other side, my mother was sobbing uncontrollably. The grandmaster stood tall with a proud demeanor, although it was evident his eyes were red.
Ahhh… how long had I yearned for this moment? Right now, I was the protagonist of this world!
From the opposite side, I saw a middle-aged man in a suit approaching.
Ah, it’s the mayor of Busan! He must be the one handing the winner’s belt today!
The thought of winning in front of someone like that filled my heart with overwhelming joy!
Bang!!!
A thunderous noise rang out, and I felt a sharp pain blast in my chest.
What’s going on? As I groggily looked at the mayor, I caught sight of a Glock in his hand!
The moment I realized the bullet had pierced my chest, my body crumbled.
What is happening? What in the world is going on? Clarity struck.
Ah! This arena isn’t meant for more than one person to leave alive! The moment the mayor stepped in, it became clear that only one of us could survive; I should have snapped his neck the moment he entered without slipping into complacency!
I felt my consciousness fading. After all these years, attaining my dream, I didn’t feel any deep sadness; however… I wished to see my mother just one more time.
/You have failed!/
A long-unachieved dream! An unshakeable thirst for victory! In the end, you became consumed by that unattainable dream.
Unaware of the strange change in your beloved mother and the father-like grandmaster, you entered the deadly martial arts competition and ultimately lost your life at the hands of the mayor.
You couldn’t escape the curse, nor did you resolve its source. Truly unfortunate.
However, there is still a chance! Wait for your teammates.
…
…
…
…
One of your teammates has successfully escaped! Congratulations! Thanks to the successful escape, all members return safely.
Cha Jinchul felt his fading consciousness slowly begin to float back.
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