The first thing Seo Hajun said when he heard about the invitation was, "We're going."
It wasn't a question.
Baek Seongho looked up from his breakfast.
"You don't even know what we're going to."
"Doesn't matter. A First Generation King invited us."
"That's exactly why it matters."
Hajun pointed his chopsticks at him.
"Sometimes I wonder whether you were born cautious or trained yourself to become this boring."
Seongho calmly took another bite.
"Sometimes I wonder whether you were dropped on your head."
Yoon Taehwan, seated between them, continued eating.
Kang Minjun watched the exchange from the opposite end of the table.
Their headquarters had changed considerably over the past three months. What had begun as a rented boxing gym now occupied three floors of a renovated commercial building. The first contained training facilities, the second housed administrative offices, and the third served as accommodation for members who needed it.
Thirty-two people belonged to Black Dragon.
Only a handful understood how much larger Minjun intended the organization to become.
"Taesoo Ma," Minjun said.
The name silenced the table.
"King of Ansan. A prominent fighter of the First Generation."
Seongho set down his chopsticks.
"I've heard about him. Supposedly, he could destroy a person's guard with one punch."
"He can," Minjun replied.
Hajun grinned.
"Then I want to fight him."
"You'd lose."
Hajun's grin faltered.
Minjun continued eating.
"Badly."
"Thanks for the encouragement."
"You asked for opportunities to improve. Losing to someone better is one of them."
Taehwan finally spoke.
"Will he accept a challenge?"
"Possibly. But don't mistake his invitation for permission to behave like idiots."
Hajun looked offended.
Seongho looked directly at him.
"Especially you."
"Why is everyone looking at me?"
Nobody answered.
Ansan
Three days later, a black sedan crossed the boundary into Ansan.
The city spread beneath a pale afternoon sky, its industrial districts gradually giving way to crowded shopping streets and apartment complexes.
Minjun sat in the passenger seat, reading a report.
Taehwan drove.
Seongho and Hajun occupied the back.
"Who else is attending?" Seongho asked.
"Several independent fighters. Former members of First Generation crews. Some younger prospects."
"Any names?"
Minjun turned a page.
"Hudson Ahn."
Hajun leaned forward.
"Who's that?"
"Taesoo Ma's student."
"Strong?"
"Very."
Hajun smiled.
Seongho sighed.
"Here we go."
Minjun closed the report.
Hudson Ahn was an interesting prospect.
His devotion to Taesoo's philosophy had made him formidable, but it had also limited his development. He placed extraordinary faith in his right fist, often at the expense of versatility.
Minjun understood the value of conviction.
He had simply never believed conviction should replace adaptability.
The car turned into a quiet industrial district.
Ahead stood a large training hall.
Several expensive vehicles were parked outside.
Men gathered near the entrance, some wearing suits, others dressed in athletic clothing.
A few turned when the sedan arrived.
Minjun stepped out.
The conversations quieted.
One man whispered something to his companion.
Another glanced at Minjun's three associates.
Hajun noticed.
"Popular already."
"Behave," Seongho muttered.
They entered.
The King's Fist
The training hall was enormous.
Heavy bags hung from reinforced beams. A boxing ring occupied one corner, while thick mats covered most of the floor.
Near the center stood a broad-shouldered man wearing a dark jacket.
His right hand rested inside his pocket.
His left arm hung naturally at his side.
Ma Taesoo.
He turned as Minjun approached.
For several seconds, the two examined one another.
Then Taesoo laughed.
"So you're Kang Minjun."
"And you're Taesoo Ma."
"Not much for introductions, are you?"
"I prefer conversations with a purpose."
Taesoo's laughter grew louder.
"I like that."
A young man stepped forward from behind him.
Blond hair.
Sharp eyes.
An athletic build.
Hudson Ahn.
He looked Minjun up and down.
"Master, is this the guy?"
Taesoo nodded.
Hudson frowned.
"He doesn't look like much."
Hajun immediately stepped forward.
"Want to test that?"
Hudson turned.
"Who are you?"
"Someone who can answer your question."
Seongho rubbed his forehead.
Minjun ignored the exchange.
"Why did you invite us?"
Taesoo gestured toward the fighters gathered around the hall.
"Every year, I bring together a few promising young men. Some come from Ansan. Others from farther away."
He looked toward Hudson.
"The First Generation is finished. But that doesn't mean the next one has to be weak."
Minjun glanced around.
He counted twenty-three fighters.
Most were ordinary by the standards of the upper tiers of Lookism.
A few were promising.
Hudson stood above nearly all of them.
Taesoo continued.
"I heard you defeated Johan Seong."
Several nearby conversations stopped.
Minjun nodded.
"And Gun Park."
Now the entire hall seemed to quiet.
Hudson stared.
"That's impossible."
Minjun looked at him.
"Then don't believe it."
Taesoo smiled.
"Gun isn't someone whose name gets thrown around casually."
"Neither is yours."
For the first time, Taesoo's expression grew serious.
He studied Minjun's face.
Then nodded.
"Fair enough."
A Lesson in Conviction
The first matches began shortly afterward.
They were informal spars, supervised by older fighters.
Seongho faced a former amateur boxer from Incheon.
The man was experienced and aggressive, with a powerful jab.
For the first minute, Seongho allowed him to establish his rhythm.
Then he began dismantling it.
A small adjustment in distance.
A feint.
A counter to the body.
By the third round, his opponent was struggling to land cleanly.
Seongho won by decision.
Taehwan fought a muscular wrestler from Suwon.
The match lasted considerably longer.
His opponent was technically sound and possessed excellent balance, forcing Taehwan to abandon his usual approach.
After several failed attempts, Taehwan changed tactics.
He allowed his opponent to secure an underhook, then used the opening to execute a sharp inside trip.
The wrestler hit the mat.
Taehwan secured control.
Victory.
Hajun's match was less restrained.
His opponent was a kickboxer from Ansan who had apparently decided that insulting Black Dragon would be entertaining.
Thirty seconds later, he was unconscious.
Hajun stood over him.
"Anyone else?"
"Hajun."
Minjun's voice carried across the hall.
Hajun turned.
"What?"
"Come here."
He obeyed, reluctantly.
Minjun looked at the unconscious fighter being carried away.
"You won."
"Obviously."
"Then why are you still trying to prove something?"
Hajun opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Minjun continued.
"A man who needs an audience to feel strong is easy to manipulate."
Hajun looked away.
"Understood."
Nearby, Hudson had been watching.
He approached.
"You're their leader?"
Minjun nodded.
"Then fight me."
Hajun immediately turned.
"Hey, I was about to ask you—"
Hudson ignored him.
"I want to know whether the rumors are true."
Minjun examined him.
"You're Taesoo's student."
"Yes."
"Then show me what you've learned."
Hudson stepped onto the mat.
Minjun followed.
Taesoo watched from ringside.
His expression had become unusually attentive.
Hudson attacked first.
His right fist traveled forward with extraordinary force.
Minjun shifted aside.
The punch struck a reinforced training pad behind him.
A thunderous impact echoed through the hall.
Several spectators flinched.
Hudson withdrew his arm.
He attacked again.
Minjun avoided the second punch.
Then the third.
Hudson's expression tightened.
"Stop running!"
Minjun stepped inside his reach.
Hudson immediately threw another right.
This time, Minjun caught his wrist.
The force of the strike traveled through Minjun's arm without moving him.
Hudson's eyes widened.
Minjun released him.
"Your right hand is impressive."
Hudson retreated.
"But?"
"You've built your entire fighting style around one answer."
Hudson frowned.
"One answer is enough if it's strong enough."
Minjun looked toward Taesoo.
The older man remained silent.
Minjun turned back.
"Then hit me."
Hudson planted his feet.
His shoulders tightened.
He poured everything into the next punch.
Minjun didn't dodge.
He raised his left palm.
The fist struck it.
BOOM!
The impact reverberated across the hall.
Minjun's hand remained in place.
Hudson stared.
For the first time in his life, his strongest punch had been stopped without apparent effort.
Minjun lowered his arm.
"Conviction is valuable. But if you refuse to adapt, eventually you'll meet someone your conviction can't overcome."
Hudson clenched his jaw.
He wanted to argue.
Instead, he looked toward his teacher.
Taesoo was watching Minjun.
His expression had changed.
The King Stands
"That's enough, Hudson."
Taesoo stepped onto the mat.
Hudson immediately moved aside.
"Master—"
"You did well."
"But I couldn't—"
"You learned something."
Taesoo turned toward Minjun.
"Now I'd like to try."
The hall fell silent.
Even the older fighters stopped talking.
Hajun grinned.
Seongho folded his arms.
Taehwan watched carefully.
Minjun studied Taesoo.
"Are you certain?"
Taesoo laughed.
"Don't worry about me."
He removed his jacket.
Beneath it, his powerful frame bore the marks of years spent fighting opponents who could shatter concrete and bend steel.
He rolled his shoulders.
"Show me what you've got."
Minjun stepped forward.
Taesoo attacked.
His right fist cut through the air.
Minjun caught it.
The floor beneath them cracked.
Taesoo's eyes widened.
Before he could withdraw, Minjun pushed his fist aside and struck him in the chest with an open palm.
The impact sent Taesoo sliding backward.
His shoes carved lines across the mat.
He stopped several meters away.
Silence.
Then Taesoo laughed.
A deep, delighted sound.
"Now that's something."
He rolled his neck.
"Again."
Minjun regarded him.
Taesoo was considerably stronger than Hudson.
His experience, timing, and raw power placed him among the most dangerous fighters of the First Generation.
But the difference between them remained enormous.
Minjun could have ended the match immediately.
Instead, he lowered his hands.
"Show me your strongest punch."
Taesoo's laughter faded.
He understood the invitation.
His expression became solemn.
He planted his feet.
Every muscle in his body tightened.
His right fist drew back.
For a moment, the hall seemed to hold its breath.
Then Taesoo struck.
Minjun answered with a single punch.
Their fists collided.
KRAAAAAAM!
A violent shock traveled through the training hall.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
Taesoo staggered backward.
His right arm trembled uncontrollably.
Minjun remained standing.
Taesoo looked at his hand.
Then at the teenager before him.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Finally, he smiled.
"You really are something else."
Minjun lowered his fist.
"You're strong."
Taesoo laughed.
"Coming from you, that sounds almost insulting."
"It wasn't meant to be."
The older man shook his head.
Then extended his left hand.
Minjun accepted it.
Taesoo's grip was firm.
"Come back sometime."
"Perhaps."
"And bring your fighters."
Minjun glanced toward Seongho, Taehwan, and Hajun.
"I intend to."
As the gathering ended, Taesoo approached Minjun near the entrance.
"One more thing."
Minjun stopped.
Taesoo's expression had grown serious.
"Have you heard of James Lee?"
Minjun looked at him.
"Yes."
Taesoo studied his face.
"Then you know what happened to the First Generation."
Minjun nodded.
James Lee.
The man who had defeated the Kings and brought their era to an end.
A legend whose name still carried weight among those who remembered the old wars.
Taesoo looked toward his right hand.
"There's something about you that reminds me of him."
Minjun said nothing.
"Not your fighting style."
Taesoo met his eyes.
"The way you look at opponents."
A pause.
"Like you've already decided the outcome."
Minjun considered that.
Then replied, "Perhaps you should stop looking backward."
Taesoo frowned.
"What?"
"James Lee defeated you. That doesn't mean he gets to define the rest of your life."
For several seconds, Taesoo stared.
Then he laughed quietly.
"You really are an arrogant brat."
Minjun smiled.
"So I've been told."
He turned toward the car.
Behind him, Taesoo remained standing beneath the evening sky.
For the first time in years, he found himself thinking about the future rather than the past.
Back in Seoul, Gun Park received a message.
A photograph.
It showed Kang Minjun standing opposite Taesoo Ma inside a damaged training hall.
Beneath it was a short report.
Taesoo Ma defeated. No serious injuries to Minjun.
Gun examined the image.
Then forwarded it to Charles Choi.
A moment later, Goo leaned over his shoulder.
"What's that?"
"Ansan."
Goo looked at the photograph.
Then whistled.
"Poor Taesoo."
Gun put the phone away.
Goo grinned.
"You're not thinking about fighting him again, are you?"
Gun remained silent.
"Oh, come on."
Goo shook his head.
"You really are going to get yourself killed one day."
Gun adjusted his glasses.
"Perhaps."
Then he looked toward the city.
"But not before I understand him."