A LOUD THUD—as Junhee simply put—"desperately needs more power" reverberated through Dongcheon gym as Jiwoo delivered another round of punches and roundhouse kicks into the punching bag held by the woman responsible for her existence in Dongcheon.
It was midnight, and it was just the two of them since this was the only hours they had the entire gym for themselves. The boys were now deep in their slumber after training for a whole day, giving the women the chance to be raucous and stentorian as they wanted to.
Besides, Junhee would like to train Jiwoo personally without the entire Dongcheon boys watching them especially the former rookie, Do Gangjae. A little monster he was, the one who's likely to win the next—tomorrow—weekly brawl. She wanted Jiwoo to solely focus on her training without any distractions if she wanted to move up to a better rank though ranks was not the purpose why she was here. She wanted revenge, and to achieve that, firstly, she must win the brawl; more reason why Junhee was here. She wanted her to win and then they will talk business.
They were drenched in sweat, the perspiration cooling their skin with each workout. Donning only grey sports bra and black leggings, Junhee's exposed milky-white skin became more beautiful, glistening under the yellowish light. Meanwhile Jiwoo, clad in a t-shirt and long pants, the dampness on her shirt brought a deeper hue to her clothing, the fabric adhered to her small figure. Their hair were tied up in ponytail with bangs fell freely across their faces, strands of it clung to their sweaty temples due to the rigorous activity.
"Harder!" Junhee shouted, feeling the force of Jiwoo's punches rippled throughout the punching bag.
The newest rookie grumbled, her pony tail oscillated behind her as she adjusted her footing and stance, throwing another round of strikes—it was powerful this time—that almost sending Junhee backwards with the renewed strength.
They went on like that—punching, kicking, grumbling and shouting—for another fifteen minutes before the real training began.
In fighting, size, power, speed and aggression matter, Junhee had said as Jiwoo intently watched her—making some mental note, and she almost lost in the process as her eyes landed on Dongcheon tattoo beneath Junhee's collarbone. Most of the pattern was obscured by the fabric of her sports bra before her eyes shifted lower, spotting another mark on her abdomen. Stab wound?
"If you want to survive, you need to have something that makes you superior to your opponent." Junhee continued, adjusting the thin white band she preceding wrapped around her hands—a technique she learned during her martial art days to protect the tendons and muscles. "Vital points. Temple, upper lip, chin, solar plexus and genitals."
Jiwoo nodded at each aforementioned vital points, stamping the crucial information to the back of her mind. Coming from Dongcheon's finest herself, it was important for her to know and learn it if she wanted to win the brawl—a hot topic she had heard circulating around the gym when she did all the work Gangjae used to do for about two years as a rookie: the chores, cleaning and cooking. Besides, she wanted to wipe the smug off of those Dongcheon boys belittled and mocked her on the very first day she arrived, so they will know her presence here was not as some kind of their prey or 'food', but to win. She will beat them. She will beat all of them until they're all out of assholes.
"By practicing and understanding vital point strikes, your striking power can be three to five times more effective than randomly striking an opponent," Junhee continued, tugging at the cotton hand wrap to make sure she found the right tension to prevent circulation cutoff, "a single strike can cause serious damage, unconsciousness or, in rare cases, death."
The rookie nodded again, stricken with awe as her lips slightly parted at the knowledge. As Junhee went on and on, she slowly started to get why she was the finest of Dongcheon. And she began to wonder if Junhee had killed people.
"The question is, how accurately and forcefully you can strike a lunging, moving, resisting target?" Junhee inspected the finished hand wrap, making sure it was free of wrinkles as she molded herself into a fighting stance, beckoning the girl forward with a flick of her finger, "Shall we dance, Yoon Jiwoo?"
•••
Junhee was left alone in the gym.
She ended the training at quarter to three, bidding Jiwoo good night—and good luck for the brawl—as the girl headed back to her room for a well deserved rest for her hard work after pushing herself to the limit. As Jiwoo's figure vanished around the dark corner, immense silence descended on the gym once again. The quiet made Junhee realized how much noise there was elsewhere in the world.
The Song woman navigated herself towards the bench that was pushed back to the chain fence shaping the ring, fishing out a bottle of water inside the duffel bag she had brought with her. She guzzled down the liquid to hydrate herself before pouring all the remnants over her clammy face, water dripping copiously from her face and to her neck, chilling her skin in the process.
As she was about to crescent herself to retrieve a towel inside the bag, she heard—she swore it was not her imagination—someone just 'ahem' somewhere in the darkness. Junhee immediately cocked her head around as she searched for the strange sound in the wind, her pulse quickened as her grip around the bottle grew tightly. It was late and who did possibly came to join her in this ungodly hours? Did the training actually wake the recruits? Was it Do Gangjae?
"It's me." A hoarse voice greeted Junhee's ears, and she felt her muscles relaxed at the familiarity as Choi Mujin stepped out from the shadows, bringing himself into the lights dangling above the ring.
"Sir." Junhee let out a breath, giving the man a little bow.
Mujin quickly dismissed the formality with a wave of his hand as he ambled closer towards her in the middle of the arena, hands buried in his pants pockets. His dark eyes landed on her dampened elegant neck then traveled south to her laid bare torso, drinking in the curvature of Junhee's in trim body before the woman snatched the view away for good. He had seen the woman in her many dresses that perfectly clasped around her waist and hips but not what hidden beneath it—and for tonight, what he was seeing now was a rare sight. A view for his eyes only.
Junhee can feel her face growing hot beneath his gaze as if someone had injected her entire face with rose water. She had never been this vulnerable in front of Mujin and also to other recruits, yet something came over her—probably the last trickle of adrenaline—so she picked up the towel she was supposed to pick, wiping her moist neck with enticement, biting her lower lip as her eyes froze on Mujin's features. It was three in the morning, and she was teasing the devil that was Choi Mujin.
The drug lord simpered, amused by the spectacle. Jun, the woman that gave him a bizarre sensation stirred within him unlike any other women he had met.
As someone with reputation—both good and bad—he could get any woman with a snap of his fingers. Any woman would do anything to slip their hands inside his pants, any woman would bend their knees for him, and any woman would do anything for him given the opportunity. That was the problem with wanting; it made them weak and Junhee was not that kind of woman. She was a force to be reckoned with, and he needed to play his cards right with her if he needed her to remain by his side.
"Up for a fight?" Choi Mujin's challenge was met with wrinkled eyebrows in a smolder-esque way of his assistant as he unbuttoned his cream colored suit.
He then tossed the tailored finery on the nearest bench, discarding the necktie as he rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up to his elbows, secretly glancing at the woman changing the tattered wrap around her hands before she equipped her fists with mixed martial arts gloves. As he geared himself with a pair of black MMA gloves, he said, "An advice, I won't be gentle."
Junhee chuckled, already positioned herself in the middle of the ring, bouncing on her feet as she punched the air, "The last time I remembered, you were pulling your punches."
"You distracted me," He replied, joining Junhee at the center as he undid a few buttons of his dress shirt just enough to reveal a tad of Dongcheon symbol on his chest, "That's not gonna happen again."
Junhee raised her gloved hands, curling them into loose fists in front of her face as she shifted herself into a fighting stance. Behind her fists, her eyes slid down to his firm chest, gulping at the exposed epidermis. He was the image of steel-cut masculinity and lean muscles. A part of her longed to trail her lithe digits across that toned body, but the boss-employee boundary they had halted her fingers to do so. Of course she had seen the section before this and it always makes her momentarily bedazzled or, distracted if that was what Mujin tried to do tonight. She shook her head, trying to focus on task at hand and when she looked up, Mujin's lips carved into a satisfying smirk.
Junhee and Mujin circled each other, calculating their moves as each one grinning at the tension they had caused in the room. Suddenly, Junhee lunged forward, charging her skillful boss as she aimed for his head only to meet Mujin's raised arm to block her punches. When the strikes out, Mujin quickly hit her arm away as another hand went up to her chin in retaliation. It was nearly a direct hit to her jaw but Junhee was fast to shift the angle between them, slithering herself out of his grip as they circled one another in a favorable distance, planning on how to land a solid hit on each other.
They went on and on, sweat dotted the floor and their bodies, neither landed a single hit. Every move they made were either just parried or blocked.
Junhee—a ferocious fighter—countered all Mujin's attack; she was fast, she defeated opponents stronger than her yet she can't deal enough damage to harm Mujin without risking subjecting herself to his supreme strength.
Mujin—an experienced and vicious fighter against his enemies—managed to block all Junhee's strikes. He took down opponents faster and more agile than him, yet he can't catch Junhee or match her speed in order to land the blow, and he needed to put her away.
Given their experience and skill-set, they could fight till they both pass out. It was an equal match until opportunity to kick the other one surfaced. Choi Mujin saw that when Junhee came for him, fist aimed for the front of his nose. He evaded the fist and immediately grabbed her wrists to flip her, but the woman unbelievably managed to land perfectly on her feet. Mujin swept her feet in no time and she fell backwards with sickening thud, starburst filling her head and eyes as a jolt of pain shot throughout her body.
"That's fatal." She sucked in a breath between gritted teeth as Mujin loomed over her, his figure haloed in the light as Junhee reached out for the proffered glove-free hand.
"You could've done better." He carefully helped the woman up, aware of the pain she might have felt from the fall as his hand absentmindedly slink around her small waist to support her figure. "You okay?"
"Still in one piece—it's nothing," She shrugged nonchalantly, shedding those gloves off as Mujin's eyes seized her up and down feverishly for any visible injuries, not taking her words. "I've gone through worse than this so—ooph!"
Choi Mujin tugged the woman closer to his body, her hands went up to his silky chest as he secured Junhee tightly against him. When did he get his arm around me? Junhee wondered. Maybe it was the throbbing pain that obscured the moment.
The Dongcheon shadow gulped, cheeks rubescent as Mujin trailed his fingers across her cheek, combing back some wild strands curtained her slick face. Junhee could feel the thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palm, requiting with hers that she had thought he could hear her own heart wilding inside.
Mujin's unreadable eyes never leave her face as he studied her—a curtain called beauty that crusaded right through him—as though he was trying to absorb every detail of this moment, memorizing how her skin felt under his touch.
He then cupped her face with his hand, it was warm to the touch as she searched his face for a moment, gauging the situation. Junhee was not sure at first, not attuned to yielding to Mujin or someone else's touch, but this did not discourage her, and finally she relaxed into his touch—eyes closed to relish the moment as he caressed her cheek with his thumb.
A sharp intake of breath escaped from Mujin's parted lips as his digit brushed her sultry melon-pink lips, and he could feel that bizarre sensation brewed within him. Junhee clumped the front of his dress shirt in her hands, any of this ain't right, she knew that all too well given their boundary. She could pretend it was not hard to stand, but in Mujin's arms, oh how her knees wanted to bend, to submit to him.
Mujin cupped the nape of Junhee's neck, his onyx eyes were a deep well of intensity and desire, wondering how her lips tasted like against his as he leaned down, their lips inches away and she could feel the hot breath swept across her face. Her lashes fluttered at the anticipation of their lips colliding, and before that could happen, Mujin jerked backwards from her, shaking his head. He ran his fingers in his disheveled silver-tinged hair, retrieving his suit and tie on the bench, leaving her all alone.
The gym fell into a hush again, and Junhee could feel her body began to shiver the moment Mujin took off, bringing the warmth of his body with him.