Chapter 2

“Hey, is Beomjin in here?”

The locker room door flew open, and Coach Park barged in. Beomjin, sitting with a weary face as he pulled off his gloves, lifted his head.

“I’m right here.”

The moment he spotted Beomjin, Coach Park stormed over, then suddenly bounced like an excited kid and wrapped him in a bear hug.

“This damn punk actually pulls through when it matters?! That match today was insane, kid! Nearly gave me a heart attack when you got knocked down, but you came back swinging!”

He drummed on Beomjin’s head, cheeks, and shoulders like a snare, shouting with glee.

Beomjin, who had felt no spark of excitement, was starting to get a little annoyed.

“Guess you really didn’t expect me to win, huh.”

“Not that, but come on—your opponent was ranked #3 in the nation! Number three! Are you out of your mind? You just beat the guy ranked third!”

If it had been for a championship belt, the man would probably have fainted on the spot.

Beomjin watched the smile plastered across his coach’s face. Even after realizing the boxer’s steady gaze, Coach Park only paused, then spoke again.

“Alright, what is it? You look like you’ve got something to say.”

“Yeah. I’m retiring today.”

The locker room fell silent. The gym staff who had been laughing and dancing louder than the actual victor, the coach who had been hollering with joy—they all froze.

Coach Park blinked like a rusted hinge, then squeaked out, “What? I must’ve heard wrong. Say that again.”

“I said I’m retiring today. Thank you for everything up until now.”

After tidying his gear, Beomjin stood.

“Hey, wait. What’s this about? Retiring? You’re joking, right?”

“It’s not a joke. I need to move on to something else. Sorry for springing it on you, but I hope you understand.”

He bowed. Coach Park kicked over a steel chair, sending it clattering across the room. Beomjin didn’t even flinch.

“Baek Beomjin, just because you’ve got a mouth doesn’t mean you spout whatever you want. Do you think this is the right time and place for that?!”

“I’m sorry, Coach. But I’ve got something more important in my life now, and that means I have to leave boxing behind. No matter what you say, I won’t change my mind.”

“And just what the hell is so damn important?!”

Coach Park’s voice cracked, spilling with anger and hurt. Then, with a bitter sigh, he muttered,

“Fine. Not like I haven’t seen this before. Plenty of kids drift through, never show much, then quit. But you… I thought you’d be different.”

He trailed off, then squinted at Beomjin.

“…It’s a woman, isn’t it? You’ve got a girlfriend?”

“What? No! Where did that even come from?”

“Don’t play dumb. It’s a woman.”

“It’s not! That’s ridiculous—”

Beomjin froze, his senses sharp. Footsteps. Two people outside the door.

Knock, knock, knock.

The locker room door opened. A tall young woman with long hair walked in, followed by a stocky middle-aged man.

Jinyoung and Uwan.

The gloves slipped from Beomjin’s hands.

What the hell were they doing here?

Shock overtook any sense of joy.

“Hello. You’re Baek Beomjin, right?”

Coach Park’s eyes shot toward him, accusatory.

Not me! Beomjin shook his head frantically, his innocent gaze begging for mercy. Jinyoung was a woman, yes, but never someone he could be accused of being involved with. If anything, she was a sworn enemy by bloodline grudge.

“Uh… hello. And you are?”

Perfect poker face. Better acting than he thought himself capable of.

Jinyoung handed him a business card, her stiff smile as unnatural as ever.

“We’re with the Special Beast Investigation Unit. Could we have a word?”

Even smiling, she still looked like she was forcing it.

Beomjin silently thanked the two of them. He didn’t show it on his face, but thanks to them, he’d gotten out from under Coach Park without much struggle. The coach had barked that he’d better show up at the gym tomorrow, but anyone could hear the emptiness in that demand.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t showered yet. Won’t I smell?”

Leaving the arena, Beomjin asked. The cool night breeze brushed his skin. He hadn’t even sweated that much during the fight, but he was being considerate of Jinyoung and Uwan’s unusually sharp senses.

“No, it’s fine. This won’t take long.”

The laid-back answer came from Uwan, trailing behind. From the way Jinyoung turned her head, though, it was obvious she was holding her breath.

The three of them sat down at a nearby café. Coffee cups in hand, they sat in silence for a while. Jinyoung had her eyes closed as if meditating, while Uwan smacked his lips like he was savoring every drop of the brew.

Beomjin tried piecing together why they’d come.

Since when? How had they found him, and why now?

He didn’t have to think long. Clearly, the Special Beast Investigation Unit had been aware of him earlier than he’d realized. The difference this time was that he’d made too strong an impression in the ring.

He almost laughed at the thought of being evaluated like some project but kept it down.

“Your match was impressive. Especially the second round—you completely dominated.”

Uwan’s wide grin confirmed his suspicion. Slurping at his straw, the big man looked like a giant mosquito.

“Thanks.”

“But I happened to overhear something earlier… you’re retiring?”

The way Uwan asked made him look like a frog—bulging eyes unreadable, mouth quirking up lightly, yet not so lightly.

Once, Beomjin would’ve shrunk back under that gaze. But not anymore. Now, he deflected with ease.

“I just wanted to touch a championship belt once before quitting. But I’ve got other things keeping me busy. Maybe I’ll start again when I have time.”

At that, Jinyoung’s lips curled, like she was thinking, You?

Finally, a standoff he’d been waiting for. Beomjin stared right back.

“Is there a problem, Ms. Seo Jinyoung?”

Her ears twitched at her full name. Dressed in a neat suit, hair tied back, her plain features sharpened as she glared.

Had she ever told him her name? Her full name? She couldn’t remember saying it, but pushed the thought aside.

“You don’t even know your own place, and yet you sit there sounding so arrogant it makes me laugh.”

“Arrogant? Did I sound that way?”

“Talking like the championship belt is yours to pick up whenever you feel like it—that’s pretty funny.”

“If you’re born a tiger, at least one championship title should hang around your neck.”

At the word tiger, both Jinyoung and Uwan flinched. Beomjin smirked at their reaction and pressed harder.

“You look surprised. Isn’t that why you came? To talk about Beast-Blooded?”

Beast-Blooded.

In Korea’s Dangun myth,¹ a tiger and a bear ate mugwort and garlic to become human. The tiger gave up and fled; the bear endured and transformed. That’s the part everyone knows.

But the tiger, in fleeing, spread the secret everywhere. Over time, other animals gained ways to become human too. They blended into society, passing their blood down through generations. Those descendants were whispered about as the Beast-Blooded—“capable ones.”

“You thought I didn’t know? I’m already aware that tiger’s blood runs through me.”

“How did you…?”

Jinyoung’s startled face made Beomjin grin wider. For once, he’d gotten the upper hand on the woman who always nagged and nitpicked.

“To be honest, I’m impressed you figured it out. Makes this easier for us, though. The hardest part is convincing someone that Beast-Blooded even exist.”

Uwan’s usual playful face turned solemn.

“Exactly. Even I struggled to accept it at first.”

Beomjin remembered the moment his instincts awakened—as if his eyes and ears had been split open—back when Sangcheol’s fist had crashed into his jaw.

Uwan, clearly excited, rolled his shoulders.

“Let’s get to the point. The Special Beast Investigation Unit is basically the police of the Beast-Blooded. Normal cops can’t handle people with overwhelming strength and wild instincts. That’s our job.”

“I’ve got a general idea.”

“So, since you’re retiring… how about joining us?”

“…What?”

“Excuse me?!”

Beomjin was shocked enough, but Jinyoung nearly exploded. She sprayed her coffee everywhere as she slammed her cup down.

“No way! You can’t just pull him in without exams, interviews, anything! That’s not how it works!”

At her outburst, Uwan shrank back like a scolded mouse.

“Why are you yelling? You saw the match yourself. Sure, in theory, but…”

“That’s nowhere near enough. The opponent wasn’t even a Beast-Blooded. Of course he’d win. If it were me, I’d have knocked him out the second the first round started.”

“Hah. I bet you would’ve.”

It wasn’t Uwan who laughed—it was Beomjin. He slapped his knee with exaggerated amusement, and Jinyoung’s voice cut sharp.

“What’s so funny? You think I’m joking?”

“It’s just funny how you’re so certain about something you’ve never experienced.”

“Oh, unbelievable. So you think being a tiger means you’re fearless? Can’t you see who I am?”

She lifted her chin, hand on her hip, showing off her pride.

Of course, Beomjin knew exactly who she was.

Seo Jinyoung.

Calm, sharp-minded, and one of the most promising agents in the Special Beast Investigation Unit. A descendant of the bear, hailed as the strongest in the unit, and the only one who had ever pinned Beomjin down with brute force.

But that was a long time ago.

“Yeah, I know you’re a bear. So what? And before I forget, let me make this clear—I have no intention of joining the Special Beast Investigation Unit.”

“Don’t answer so hastily. At least think it over—”

“No, wait. ‘So what’? Did you hear this, Senior? This Dog-Head actually said ‘so what’ to me!”

Her voice rose as she rolled up her sleeves. Beomjin only provoked her more, knowing full well how strong her pride was.

“Did I say something out of line? Seems to me the one who’s scared of nothing is you.”

He leaned back, crossing his legs, a smirk tugging at his lips. That alone was enough. Jinyoung shoved the table aside and growled.

“Get outside. Let’s see how great you really are.”

“Whoa, whoa, why are you two suddenly doing this? Calm down! Beomjin, cool it. She might look like she couldn’t swat a mouse, but her strength’s no joke. They don’t call her the Piano Killer for nothing.”

Piano Killer.

It had been ages since he’d heard that nickname. Back when she studied piano, she broke keys just by pressing too hard, and the name stuck. She hated it more than anything. Predictably, it worked like a charm.

“Senior! I told you not to bring that up! Why do you keep telling people about the piano thing?!”

She gave Uwan the lightest push, yet he went tumbling back like a ragdoll. Jinyoung didn’t even flinch—she just pulled him up again like she’d done it a hundred times.

“Oww, oww, my shoulder’s dislocated.”

“Oh, come on. If you keep faking it like this, no one’s going to believe you when you’re actually hurt!”

Both Jinyoung and Beomjin knew he was exaggerating, but Uwan was dead serious. She’d shoved his shoulder, yet somehow he limped and gasped like his legs were broken too.

Frog blood ran in his veins, making Uwan a natural-born liar. Over fifty now, with a gut and a balding head, he was still a veteran with razor-sharp instincts. But you never knew when he’d joke or lie.

“You know injuries from sparring with you don’t even count as work accidents. Please, control your strength, will you? Ahh, damn.”

Even seated again, Uwan kept shaking his arm like it was about to fall off.

But Beomjin had no intention of backing down. This was the perfect chance to get back at Jinyoung.

“I’m not looking to make a scene. Just to show a bear with her nose in the air that the world’s bigger than she thinks.”

“You heard that, Senior? I’ll just show him who the real frog in the well is.”

Jinyoung rolled her shoulders, confidence radiating from her face. Naturally, the two stepped out of the café and into the alley behind it. The so-called open lot was barely more than a patch of trash-strewn ground.

She didn’t waver for a second.

“How do you want to do this? Boxing, since that’s your thing? Or maybe wrestling? Judo?”

Hands in his pockets, Beomjin answered.

“Doesn’t matter. Just hurry up. I want to go home, shower, and sleep.”

In his mind, old memories flashed—his first clash with Jinyoung.

Back then, after a humiliating loss, they’d ended up in a standoff just like this. It had turned into a test of strength, and he’d been crushed. That defeat had driven him to join the unit with only one thought: to one day beat her.

But that was then.

He spat on the ground, as if to spit out the memory. Then he lowered his head and twisted his body. A gust brushed his brow as Jinyoung’s fist cut through the air.

How should he return the favor?

Even as he wondered, his body moved. His left hand caught her sleeve, his right locked her arm, and in a heartbeat he stepped past her and twisted. She tried to brace herself, realizing too late, but his strength overwhelmed her.

Without even a grunt, Jinyoung was slammed hard into the ground.