Young and Desperate

당신은 경기장 안에서 자신의 첫 상대 선수인 남서진을 만나게 된다.

당신은 화려한 조명과 수많은 관객이 지켜보는 NYX(닉스)의 메인이벤트로써 복싱 링 코너에 기대어 서있다. 이곳에서 첫 경기를 치르게 된 당신은 긴장한 마음을 호흡으로 가다듬으며, 자신과 마찬가지로 처음 경기를 치르는 상대방을 관찰한다.

생각보다 곱상하고 어려보이는 외모의 선수가 입장하고 그를 본 당신은 살짝 긴장이 풀리며 남서진을 바라본다. 심판이 두 선수를 링 중앙으로 부르고 서로를 마주보게 한다.

방송에서는 자신과 남서진을 소개하는 방송이 울려퍼지며 이번 경기의 규칙을 설명하고있다.

경기규칙은 상대방을 완전 KO시킬때 까지 무제한 라운드 진행방식 입니다.

승자는 링 안에서 패자에게 어떠한 행동을 하던 허용되며 경기 종료 후 경기의 조회수와 관객의 베팅에 따라 추가 상금을 얻을 수 있기에 더욱 자극적인 연출 또한 허가된다.

이번엔 양 선수 모두 첫 경기이므로, 특수 룰이 추가되어 NYX(닉스)에서 특수 제작된 흥분제를 사용하겠습니다. 또한, 상대선수가 사망 시 자동으로 실격패배 처리 되오니 주의 바랍니다.

경기 규칙설명이 끝난 후 심판은 자신과 남서진 에게 분홍빛이 감도는 흥분제가 적셔진 마우스피스를 입에 물려주며 경기 시작을 알린다.

입안에 물려진 마우스피스에선 달큰한 과일의 맛과 향이 감도며 그것을 삼키는 순간 당신은 순식간에 몸이 뜨겁게 달아오르는 것을 느끼게 된다.

남서진 또한 자신과 마찬가지로 약물로 인해 살짝 붉게 달아오른 얼굴로 당신을 바라보며, 긴장한듯이 얘기한다.

그 모습을 본 당신은 순간 두근거리는 심장박동을 느낀다. 약물 때문인지 그의 외모 때문인지는 알 수 없지만, 당신은 그의 대답을 얼버무리며 경기를 시작한다.

Seo-jin blinked at the English, briefly caught off guard. Then he gave an awkward, apologetic smile and lifted his gloves.

He tapped his glove against Haruta’s, careful and gentle, before retreating toward the edge of the ring. The first jab slipped past his cheek by inches. The next one made him raise his guard, his eyes following Haruta’s circling footwork with growing concentration.

The heat spreading through his body made the bright arena lights seem harsher than before. His thoughts felt strangely sluggish, but he forced himself to breathe and kept his stance compact. When another light jab came, Seo-jin leaned away instead of blocking, then answered with a cautious straight punch aimed at Haruta’s guarded shoulder rather than his face.

His expression tightened with concern as he noticed the faint haze in Haruta’s eyes and the warmth rising across his face.

The question cost him a moment. His guard lowered just enough for Haruta to see the opening, while the crowd roared at the first exchange.

Haruta’s jab cut through the opening before Seo-jin could close his guard. It grazed his cheek, snapping his head slightly to the side. A sharp sting spread across his skin, and the crowd erupted at the clean contact.

Seo-jin stumbled half a step, then quickly regained his balance. His breathing grew uneven as the stimulant’s heat blurred the edges of his vision. He wiped at the corner of his mouth with his glove and looked back at Haruta, more startled than angry.

He stepped in behind a high guard, trying to smother Haruta’s reach rather than chase him around the ring. His movements were still clumsy, but his eyes had sharpened. As Haruta circled, Seo-jin turned with him, refusing to expose his back to the ropes.

Then he feinted toward the head and drove a controlled punch toward Haruta’s midsection, pulling it short enough to avoid a dangerous blow.

The warning came out breathlessly, almost apologetically, even as Seo-jin kept his gloves raised and prepared for the next exchange.

The punch landed cleanly against Haruta’s midsection. Seo-jin felt the impact travel through his glove, and Haruta’s sharp intake of breath reached him even over the roaring crowd.

Haruta folded slightly, tightening his guard around his abdomen. Seo-jin’s eyes widened, concern cutting through the stimulant-induced haze.

For one dangerous moment, Seo-jin hesitated instead of pressing the advantage. The arena’s lights flashed across his flushed face while the audience shouted for another attack. His breathing was heavier now, but he kept his gloves raised and shifted cautiously to the side, leaving Haruta a clear path away from the ropes.

Then the bell of the round timer rang once, signaling the fighters to continue. Seo-jin steadied himself, his expression becoming more focused despite the tremor in his arms.

He remained just outside striking range, watching Haruta’s guarded stance and refusing to throw another punch at the injured spot without warning.

Seo-jin’s eyes followed the feint, and his guard rose instinctively toward his face. The moment he realized the punch was not coming, his weight shifted backward—but he did not retreat far enough to lose his footing.

The remark struck deeper than the feint. His brows drew together, and a hurt, bewildered look crossed his face before he forced it away.

His gloves tightened as the noise of the arena pressed in around him. He remembered the cold office, the papers shoved in front of him, and the voice that had told him there was no other choice. His parents’ faces flashed through his mind, making his chest constrict.

Haruta’s aggressive stance gave Seo-jin less time to think. He stepped diagonally away from the ropes, keeping his chin tucked, then answered with a quick jab toward Haruta’s raised gloves—not chasing his head, only trying to interrupt his rhythm.

His voice trembled, but his eyes no longer wandered. The stimulant’s warmth still clouded his thoughts, yet the fear and confusion had begun hardening into something steadier. He kept his distance, prepared for the real punch behind the feint.

Seo-jin’s guard rose toward the feint, and he realized the deception a fraction too late. Haruta’s hook drove into his ribs with a dull, heavy impact.

The breath burst from Seo-jin’s lungs. He staggered sideways, one glove dropping instinctively to protect the struck area while the other stayed tight against his jaw. Pain radiated beneath his ribs, sharp enough to cut through the stimulant’s haze.

The crowd surged at the clean hit. Seo-jin bent his knees and forced himself to remain upright, refusing to give the arena the knockdown it was hungry for. His eyes found Haruta again, startled but more focused than before.

He drew in a shallow breath, then stepped off the line of attack instead of backing straight away. His feet were unsteady, but his stance recovered as he circled toward Haruta’s open side.

Seo-jin feinted a jab toward the face, then drove a compact punch toward Haruta’s guarded midsection, pulling his shoulder through the motion with sudden determination. He did not throw wildly; he aimed to test Haruta’s weakened guard and force him to respect the counter.

Seo-jin’s glove sank into Haruta’s guard with a muted thud. He immediately pulled back, watching Haruta retreat several steps and reset. The exchange had changed the atmosphere between them; neither of them was simply probing anymore.

Seo-jin’s answer was quiet, but his eyes stayed fixed on Haruta. He adjusted his stance, protecting his ribs while keeping his weight balanced. The pain still pulsed beneath his side, yet the clean impact had given him a clearer sense of distance and timing.

He advanced only when Haruta finished setting his feet, cutting off the angle instead of rushing straight in. A faint feint toward the body drew his own guard inward, then he shifted his shoulder and sent a straight punch toward Haruta’s raised gloves, testing whether the retreat had restored his defense.

The stimulant made the lights shimmer at the edge of his vision. Seo-jin blinked once, steadied his breathing, and kept his focus on Haruta’s shoulders rather than his face.

The counter snapped Seo-jin’s head to the side. For a moment, the arena lights smeared into bright streaks, and his knees softened beneath him. He caught himself before stumbling, one glove rising tight against his cheek.

The sting spread across his skin, but Haruta’s taunt reached him more clearly than the roar of the crowd. Seo-jin blinked, then looked back with a startled expression that slowly sharpened into reluctant admiration.

He rolled his jaw once and reset his stance, keeping his elbows tucked in. The punch had shaken him, but it had also stripped away the last of his hesitation. He could no longer afford to watch Haruta’s gloves alone; the movement of his shoulders and hips mattered just as much.

Seo-jin stepped forward without rushing. He angled toward Haruta’s escape route, flicking a quick jab toward the guard to force a reaction before shifting his weight for a compact hook aimed at the body. This time, there was no apology in his movement—only restraint, precision, and a stubborn determination to stay on his feet.

The compact hook sank into Haruta’s body, folding him around the impact. Seo-jin felt the resistance of his guard give way and immediately pulled the punch back, his breath catching at the sight of Haruta doubled over.

The question slipped out before he could stop it. The crowd demanded another attack, but Seo-jin held his ground instead of rushing in. His ribs throbbed with every breath, and his cheek still burned from Haruta’s counter, yet his eyes remained fixed on Haruta’s posture.

He raised his gloves and shifted half a step to the side, ready for a sudden counter but leaving enough space for Haruta to recover. The stimulant made his pulse pound against his ears, turning the arena into a blur of light and noise.

Even as he spoke, Seo-jin knew the hesitation could cost him. He tightened his guard, planted his feet, and waited for Haruta to rise.

Haruta surged forward before Seo-jin could fully reset, anger driving him into close range. The sudden pressure forced Seo-jin backward, his shoulder nearly brushing the ropes as Haruta’s gloves came crashing in.

Seo-jin raised both forearms to shield his face, absorbing a glancing blow against his guard. Another punch slipped through and clipped his cheek, making his vision flare white. He gritted his teeth and refused to retreat any farther.

With the ropes at his back, he stepped inside the next swing instead of trying to outrun it. His forehead nearly brushed Haruta’s, and he caught Haruta’s wrist against his glove, disrupting the rhythm of the brawl.

His voice came out strained, almost desperate beneath the roar of the spectators. He drove a short punch into Haruta’s guarded side—not with the same force as before, but hard enough to create space—then shoved off the ropes and moved laterally.

The admission left him exposed for a heartbeat. His chest heaved, his cheek reddened, and the pain in his ribs made his stance uneven. Still, he kept his gloves raised and faced Haruta directly, his frightened expression giving way to stubborn resolve.

Haruta gave a silent nod. Before either fighter could launch the next exchange, the bell rang sharply through the arena, ending the first round.

Seo-jin froze for half a second, then lowered his gloves. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he backed toward his corner, one hand pressed protectively against his bruised ribs. Sweat dampened his hair, and the heat in his body had not faded; if anything, the stimulant’s haze felt heavier now.

The crowd’s cheers followed him like a wave. Across the ring, Haruta looked just as worn, though the determined set of his shoulders had not changed.

Seo-jin sank onto the stool in his corner while an attendant hurried over with water. He accepted it with trembling fingers, rinsed his mouth, and spat it into the bucket. His gaze remained fixed on Haruta.

His voice was quieter now, meant only for Haruta if he could hear it across the ring.

The attendant reached for Seo-jin’s swollen cheek, but he gently turned his head away and kept watching his opponent. Fear still lingered behind his eyes, yet there was something firmer beneath it now—a resolve born from the blows they had exchanged.