Gen walked Keiko home in the dim glow of the streetlights, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps filling the silence between them. The adrenaline from the fight still buzzed faintly in his veins, but now, away from the ring, a different kind of tension settled in his chest. As they reached her doorstep, Keiko turned to him with a gentle, relieved smile.
"Thank you, Gen," she said softly.
Gen chuckled lightly, trying to wave it off. "No problem."
After a brief silence, he hesitated before speaking again. "Hey, Keiko? Did I… was I a burden to you? Did I make you look stupid in front of your friends?"
Keiko's eyes widened, then narrowed in disbelief. "What the hell? Of course not. I couldn't care less about what they thought," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "Gen, I always wondered why you were avoiding me. And this? This is why?"
She punched him lightly on the arm.
"Ow! Still broken, still broken," Gen winced dramatically, clutching his sling.
Keiko giggled, covering her mouth. "Sorry, sorry! But c'mon, that's such a lousy way of thinking. Gen, you still aren't like that, right? Are we cool?"
Gen scratched the back of his head and looked away. "Yeah… I guess it won't matter now."
Keiko beamed. "I mean, you're so handsome now that it wouldn't even matter, right?"
Gen smirked. "Yeah, yeah, I guess you're right."
He waved goodbye as she stepped inside, watching her disappear behind the door. With a sigh, he turned to make his way home. But before he could take a few steps, loud music blared from a nearby alley. The distinct screech of tires sent a jolt up his spine.
Out of the shadows, three figures emerged, clad in ski masks. One held a baseball bat, tapping it against his palm.
"Hey, just give us some money, and you won't get hurt," one of them sneered.
Gen glanced at them, unfazed. "Seriously?"
"Hey! Are you listening?!" the thug with the bat barked.
Gen smirked. This was the perfect opportunity to test his new ability. He let the word roll off his tongue.
"Fear."
Immediately, the men froze. Their weapons clattered to the ground. The color drained from their faces as their knees buckled beneath them. One even let out a whimper, his pants darkening as a wet patch spread.
Gen tilted his head, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Beat it."
That was all it took. The three scrambled for their car, tripping over themselves in their desperation to flee.
"Let's get the hell outta here!" one of them shouted.
"Screw this shit, I'm done with this life," another yelled as they sped away. "I hope they still got positions for that nine-to-five."
Gen chuckled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Hmph. I like this ability."
Just then, headlights flooded the street, and a car rolled to a slow stop beside him. The window slid down, revealing a familiar face.
"Hey, need a ride?" Taehyung asked lazily.
Gen smirked. "Lucky bastard I am."
"Yeah, yeah, get in," Taehyung said, rolling his eyes.
As Gen climbed into the passenger seat, Taehyung muttered, "Man, I almost crashed into some random-ass car with dudes in ski masks. Fuckin' lunatics."
Gen raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Funny story, I kinda ran into them."
Taehyung glanced at him. "For real? Were they a problem?"
Gen smirked. "Nah. They left."
"Huh. Interesting."
The car ride was mostly quiet until Taehyung spoke again. "I assume the fight went down with Isamu, right?"
"Yeah," Gen said, cracking his neck. "I beat his ass and made him cry to his mommy."
Taehyung laughed heartily. "That's what I like to hear."
They shared a laugh before Gen was dropped off at home. As he stepped out, Taehyung called after him. "Oh, and don't forget about our rematch, alright?"
Gen smirked. "Yeah, yeah."
Inside, he collapsed onto his bed and immediately drifted into sleep.
For the next few months, Gen trained relentlessly. His arms healed, and his physique transformed. Defined muscles, a tapered waist, and broad shoulders reflected in the mirror. He smirked, satisfied.
Wiping sweat from his brow, he muttered, "Status open."
A holographic screen appeared before him.
_______________________________________________________________________
NAME: GEN NANAMI RANK: 80/100
STRENGTH: 65/100 SPEED: 70/100 CHARISMA: 1/100
________________________________________________________________________
He scowled at the last stat. "Damn, charisma's still shit. And I still don't get this ranking system."
He recalled the notification he received when he defeated Isamu—his rank had increased.
"So I need to challenge fighters?" He groaned. "Man, what a pain. I'd rather not get hurt."
Still, he had no choice. Just then, a warning message flashed on his screen.
NOT ENGAGING IN CHALLENGES OR COMPLETING MISSIONS WILL RESULT IN SUSPENSION OF ACCOUNT.
Gen's heart dropped. "Wait—does this mean I'm gonna lose this greek god of a body and handsome face?!"
Panic surged through him. "Fuck, fuck, okay! Missions tab, open!"
Two missions appeared:
Defeat a Ranked Opponent
Take Another's Virginity
Gen stared at the second mission, his face blank.
"Ugh, fuck. This is gonna be a doozy."