In Lookism as the MOAB

The red-haired boy sat cross-legged on the dusty wooden floor, his sharp eyes observing the chaos with an almost indifferent gaze. In the dim, musty warehouse, he watched as members of the Oth Generation crushed their First Generation opponents without mercy. Every punch and kick was executed with cold precision, strikes landing with the raw intensity that came from an era where violence and death were daily occurrences, and the strong ruled.

A tall, imposing figure stepped forward, dressed in expensive, branded clothes with a mane of long hair dyed red at the ends and parted down the middle. His gaze was locked on the battered body of Seongji Yuk, the remnants of his brutal defeat evident in the blood splattered across the floor.

"Seongji Yuk's fingers and toes got sliced off. Even if we drag him to a hospital, they won't reattach them the same way, and I don't even know if they can with that heavy damage. It's… awkward, so damn awkward," he said, his voice cool and detached. "Guess we won't have any reason to bring him into the fold anymore. We were trying to create the strongest circle, you know? But I'll admit, it surprised me. Didn't think Seongji Yuk would be taken down this hard. Must be some skill."

He turned, addressing the red-haired boy watching calmly from the floor. "You fought with Seongji Yuk, right, kid?"

The boy nodded, his expression unfazed. "That's right."

A smirk curled on the man's lips as he crossed his arms, evaluating the younger fighter with approval. "Impressive."

"Impressive," he repeated, his voice louder as he drew the attention of the other Oth Generation fighters around them. "Everyone here's found themselves a worthy rival, it seems." the boy said 

A glint of humor sparkled in the man's eyes as he looked around, chuckling softly. "Incheon isn't as gentle as Cheongliang, got it?" He knew the tension was mounting, the air thick with the promise of a fight. But just then, the boy on the floor shifted, slowly rising to his feet.

The man lifted an eyebrow, his smirk twisting into something darker. "Scared?" he taunted, voice laced with sarcasm as he studied the boy.

But the boy just shot back a grin, his confidence visibly growing. "Nah, just… was expecting someone else to show up. I've heard plenty about him from my friend regarding the youngest of the kings, the king of Gangnam controlling the south of Seoul."

James Lee's expression faltered as he mentioned the youngest king. A pang of jealousy and irritation surged through him, mingling with something that felt uncomfortably like inferiority. Doo Lee—that name had been echoing in his mind for months now, gnawing at his ego. A kid younger than him, somehow rubbing shoulders with the First Generation, had conquered Gangnam itself alone and even went toe-to-toe with Gitae Kim, the son of the Legend... and won.

Reason for the changesThe man raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening with amusement. "The King of Gangnam, huh? You mean him?"

James's curiosity piqued as he registered the teasing glint in the man's eyes. Before he could respond, a shadow shifted above them. His gaze followed instinctively, and there, standing on the edge of the rooftop, was a figure he hadn't noticed before.

The boy's hair fluttered in the evening breeze, his stance calm yet imposing, like a lion surveying its territory. He wore a white shirt, its collar casually unbuttoned, tucked into black pants that gave him a clean yet untamed look. The air around him seemed charged, heavy, drawing attention from everyone below as if daring them to make a move.

James's eyes widened as the boy—Doo Lee, the rumored King of Gangnam himself—casually leaped from the rooftop, descending with a silent yet powerful grace. He landed directly in front of James, his towering frame casting a shadow over him.

For a moment, they stood there, tension thick between them, and James felt a shiver of adrenaline as their eyes locked. Doo's expression was one of faint disappointment, his gaze scanning the remnants of the brawl around them. But then, his eyes narrowed, locking onto James with a predatory focus.

"James right?"

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Perched atop the traditional Korean roof, Doo Lee watched the chaos below with a stoic face, though inside he was cursing every deity he could think of. "Why, why today of all days?!" he fumed internally, his fingers digging into the tiles. He couldn't show weakness—not now. Not in front of these ruthless fighters from the Zeroth Generation. So, he kept his posture tall, his face calm, acting like he belonged here, like he was as tough as they were.

But then his eyes caught sight of someone familiar—the King of Incheon himself, Jaegyeon Na. The bastard he'd actually called for a lift. Doo remembered meeting him once at some underground car showdown, the thrill of illegal street racing in the air. He didn't know back then that Jaegyeon was the King of Incheon. He just thought the guy was some car junkie with a ridiculous amount of vehicles.

Doo felt his stomach twist with regret. If only I'd known.

Lost in his thoughts, he suddenly felt the piercing gaze of someone looking directly at him. His eyes snapped down to meet a fiery-red-haired boy staring right at him—James Lee. Panic flashed through Doo's mind, and in his distraction, he lost his grip on the roof tiles and slipped. Flailing for a second, he managed to land on the ground miraculously upright, as if he'd meant to do it all along. Face-to-face with James now, he cleared his throat, trying to play it cool.

"You're pretty tall for your age," James said, giving Doo a once-over. The red-haired boy kept his hands in his pockets, a casual, almost lazy stance, yet his eyes glinted with a fighter's anticipation.

"Men usually are," Doo replied, looking down at James with a smirk, his tone teasingly indifferent.

The tension between them was electric, and it was clear that at any moment, things could erupt into a full-blown fight. James's fists clenched slightly—he'd been itching to test the so-called "Ghost of Gangnam," curious if the rumors about him were true. But to his frustration, Doo looked almost bored, as if he had nothing to prove. After all, he knew that, according to the events in the manhwa, James had never officially fought the other kings in Cheonliang.

James was only here to deal with Shinmyung Cheon, the man who held Charles Choi's weakness.

Their tension was interrupted by a shout. "Hey, hey! You're supposed to fight me, not treat me like some extra!" The King of Incheon, Jaegyeon Na, called out, visibly annoyed.

James shifted his gaze back to the ongoing fight. "I was curious to fight the kings," he said, his tone dismissive, "but seeing their level now, I doubt it's worth it." He watched the battlefield, The 0th Generation was dominating, tearing through the kings without mercy. The so-called kings looked helpless against the brute strength of the Oth Generation fighters.

"Watch closely, dumbass," Doo taunted, a smug expression slipping onto his face. James's dismissive attitude amused him, and he leaned back slightly, a little too confident under the assumption that James wouldn't try to attack him.

James's attention snapped back to the fight below. His eyes widened as he watched the First Generation fighters rally with unexpected ferocity, the tides turning abruptly. The First Generation, pushed to the brink, had begun to wipe the floor with the 0th Generation. They weren't just holding their ground—they were overwhelming the Zeroth Generation, practically wiping the floor with them. So this is what they're capable of, James thought,

But suddenly a chill ran down James's spine, and instinctively, he felt an intense gaze fixed on him, sending a primal urge through his body to move—now. Reacting instantly, he spun around with a powerful back kick, aiming for the source of the pressure. His foot connected hard with Doo's right side, right where the liver was, the impact resounding with a loud, booming crack that would've sent most fighters crumpling to the ground in agony.

But Doo merely grinned, unfazed, his voice dripping with amusement. "Cute," he muttered, rolling his sleeves back leisurely. "Now, watch this."

Doo threw a punch aimed straight for James's chest. James managed to evade just barely, the fist whizzing past him by a hair. But the ground beneath them bore the brunt, shattering like a meteor had struck. A cloud of dust exploded around them, and every eye turned toward the two, horrified at the power in that single punch.

James scrambled onto a nearby wall, breathing hard as he looked down at Doo, who was casually standing in the crater he'd created, the floor cracked and broken beneath him. James's liver shot, one of the most excruciating moves to land on someone, hadn't even caused Doo to flinch.

Jaegyeon's eyes had gone wide, and he muttered under his breath, "What kind of monster is this…?" His usual playful expression was gone, replaced by a serious, almost fearful one. He wondered if even all the kings combined could take this demon down.

But the reality was different,

"Bomboclattttttt!" Doo shouted in his mind, his breath knocked out of his chest from the liver kick. He hadn't expected James to strike with such force, and it took him completely off guard. The pain shot through him, a searing reminder that he wasn't that right about the prediction according to the manhwa.

In the animal kingdom, when a creature experiences searing pain, survival instincts take over. The brain bypasses logical thinking, signaling the body to attack with every bit of force left in it, using raw aggression to ward off the threat.

The mind, clouded by the stress response, may bypass logical processing, resulting in subconscious vocalizations or sounds that might sound like incomprehensible gibberish or frenzied growls. These vocalizations stem from primal, unfiltered neural pathways, as the brain attempts to process and cope with the overwhelming pain while focusing on neutralizing the perceived danger.

That's what was really happening with Doo. His cocky lines like "cute" and "watch this" were mindless echoes of the anime he'd been watching. Rolling up his sleeves? Nothing but a cover-up to mask the intense sting throbbing through his core. The punch he threw, though it seemed like a casual strike, was actually every ounce of power he could muster, from his toes to his fists. Damn it, my hand might be broken, he thought, gritting his teeth behind his stoic mask.

He glanced up at James, who now stood on the wall with his eyes locked onto him. Panic bubbled up beneath his blank expression. If that psycho attacks me again, I'm done for.

"Hey, hey, where are you going? Charles sent you to save me!" a shout rang out, and Doo's eyes snapped toward the voice. It was Shinmyung Cheon, urgency lacing his tone. "Kill all these bastards!"

But James just looked at him and smiled, a carefree glint in his eyes. "Sorry, but what Charles ordered me to do was eliminate you." He turned his gaze to Doo, an almost mocking tone creeping into his voice. "Seems like you're already done for."

Shinmyung Cheon's face paled, his mind racing. "Wha-what…?" he stammered, unable to believe the betrayal unfolding before him.

Meanwhile, the King of Incheon watched James with newfound admiration. "I'm liking him more and more," he muttered to himself. He'd be perfect for Incheon, he thought, recalling how James had evaded the rest of the Kings without letting any of them corner him, glancing briefly at Doo with an approving grin. To him, Doo looked unfazed, his posture relaxed and unbothered—like the seasoned, stoic "Ghost of Gangnam" everyone believed him to be.

Meanwhile, Doo forced himself to keep his expression neutral, though his hand throbbed painfully with every heartbeat. Inside, he was biting back a wave of frustration, silently cursing the brutal hit he'd just taken. But he wasn't about to let anyone see his discomfort, least of all the other Kings. They saw only his smug confidence, and he was determined to keep it that way, even as the ache gnawed at him.

James's gaze swept across the assembled Kings, and he grinned. "It was fun," he said, his voice steady and commanding. "All of you definitely have the skill to be called Kings."

The Kings eyed him cautiously, sensing that his words weren't simply compliments. James continued, "I'd like to stick around a little longer, but how unfortunate…" he trailed off, his expression turning serious.

The King of Seoul, Jichang Kwak, stepped forward, his face set in a wary frown. "Just what is your side planning?" he demanded, suspicion laced in his voice.

James smirked, brushing off the question. "Don't be so hasty. You'll know everything soon enough." He let his gaze fall upon each of them, lingering on Doo, as if marking him for something yet to come. "When the time comes, I'll personally find every single one of you."

"You're going to run away like this?" Jichang challenged, his tone both skeptical and defiant.

"Don't be so let down," James replied with a smirk. "Doesn't everyone have a lot on their plate? Go on, take care of Shinmyung Cheon." He really wanted to retrieve the red paper, but there are way too many people here, so he might have to come later, he thought.

With a final look back, James leapt off the wall, vanishing into the night, leaving a whirlwind of questions and tension behind him.

As James leaped off the wall and vanished into the shadows, Shinmyung Cheon watched him go with a mixture of disbelief and rage. "Damn it… damn it… James Lee!" he spat, feeling the weight of betrayal heavy on his shoulders. He barely had a moment to process before he felt a hand grab his collar—Doo stepped in front of Shinmyung, a menacing glare locked onto the other king. "You have something belonging to me. Where is she?" he demanded, grabbing the collar of Shinmyung's shirt, shaking him slightly for emphasis.

"You have something belonging to me. Where is she?" Doo's voice was low and sharp, an icy calm masking his simmering anger.

Shinmyung stammered, his bravado crumbling under Doo's unforgiving gaze. But then, before he could respond, a soft voice broke the tense silence.

"Doo…"

The soft voice from behind made his eyes widen. He turned slowly, disbelief etched on his face as he recognized her. "Rachel…?" he muttered, hardly daring to believe it.

Rachel ran toward him, her face streaked with tears, and threw her arms around him, clutching him tightly as she cried, "Wahhhh…"

She was terrified, overwhelmed by everything that had happened. Unlike Doo, who had long since learned to see through the world's false facade, this was her first time experiencing something so raw, so intense.

The fear, the chaos—it was all new and frightening. But seeing Doo there, standing in front of her, was enough to chase away the worst of it. The fact that he had come for her, that he was there when her own family had left her behind, filled her heart with warmth. Something that had always felt half-empty in her suddenly felt whole.

Doo wrapped his arms around her, holding her close despite the searing pain throbbing through his body. Each movement hurt like hell, but he didn't care. Right now, she was all that mattered.

Seeing Rachel so scared twisted something in Doo's chest, but it was quickly replaced with warmth as he hugged her back. Despite the pain coursing through his body, the feeling of her presence filled him with a fierce protective instinct. It was a bittersweet moment, but she was hugging a little too tightly.

"Excuse—" he winced as her grip tightened around his side, her fear manifesting in her embrace.

A throat cleared nearby, interrupting the tender moment and drawing Doo's attention away from Rachel. He turned to see Jaegyeon Na pointing at Seongji Yuk, the King of Cheongliang, who was bleeding and battered yet still managing an irritated expression. "If you don't mind, that guy looks like he's dying."

Doo glanced back at Rachel, who had succumbed to unconsciousness, her dark circles indicating how sleep-deprived and stressed she was. Even in her unconscious state, she held onto him tightly, as if fearing he would vanish at any second.

"Yeah, let's go," he muttered, adjusting his hold on her. With careful precision, he lifted Rachel into a princess carry, trying to be gentle despite the pain shooting through him. I'm fucked, he thought grimly. Now James Lee knew his face, which meant Charles would soon know of his existence. And all the kings were aware of him now too.

"Life is a Bitch....."