Lookism: Fight Club

"Stop it! Let me go, you brats!"

At the side of the street, a tteokbokki food stall was surrounded by a group of high school thugs. However, calling them "high school thugs" was an understatement—they didn't look like high school kids at all.

This group had the appearance of battle-hardened delinquents. Their menacing looks and large, intimidating builds silenced the entire street. Because of their terrifying presence, no one dared to help the poor elderly woman running the stall.

"Grandma... you're old, you know? What if some guy tried to steal your money? Could you fight them off? Right?" said the leader of the group. He was a young man with a bald head and a large scar running from his forehead to his chin. His muscular build resembled a seasoned bodybuilder who had spent years lifting weights.

"We're offering you protection," he continued with a grin. "You just need to pay us, and no one will bother you anymore."

The elderly woman gripped the money in her pocket tightly. Unlike the others, there was no fear on her face. "Stop it! I've been living here since you were still in your father's eggs! No one bothered me until you showed up. You can't fool me! If you keep this up, I'll call the police!"

"Call the police?" The leader paused for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Call those losers. Do you think we're scared? We're minors!"

Suddenly, out of nowhere, the leader punched the stall. The blow was so strong that it shattered the wooden frame, sending tteokbokki scattering across the ground.

"If you're not going to pay your protection fee, just say so!" the leader sneered. Then, turning to his lackeys, he ordered. "Destroy the stall! Make sure it's beyond repair!"

The thugs laughed and began punching and kicking the stall. The elderly woman fell to her knees in shock and fear, desperately trying to stop them from destroying the hard-earned livelihood she had built over the years. 

"Hey!"

Out of nowhere, a voice came from behind. It belonged to a man wearing glasses. He looked strikingly handsome, like the protagonist of a story.

"Who are you?" the leader narrowed his eyes.

"You bunch of trash," the man sneered, glancing at everyone. "You're only strong when you're bullying the weak. But when you face someone stronger, you're scared out of your mind."

As he spoke, the man pulled a pair of black gloves from his pocket, slipping them on slowly. His deliberate movements seemed almost careless as if he didn't mind wasting time—even as the elderly woman's stall was being destroyed. 

"They call me the Korea's strongest boxer. You might not know me because you're just a frog in a well. I'm the King of Fists." 

Minutes later...

The leader held the bloodied head of the so-called King of Fists, his sneer deepening. "You scared me for a moment. I thought you were some big shot since you called yourself the King of Fists. But in the end, you're just weak." 

"Hey..."

Suddenly, a voice came from behind again. 

The leader turned to look. Standing there was a young man with striking white hair and sharp eyes. He wore glasses and gazed at the leader with a bored expression.

"Using violence to threaten an elderly woman is something no real man should do," the young man said calmly. 

"Who are you? No, what kind of king are you? The King of Yapping?" the leader's lips curled up into a mocking smile. He was much larger than the young man and had his lackeys by his side, so his confidence remained unshaken.

...

'Are you sure about this, system?'

The young man facing the bald leader was Adam Shin. On the outside, he appeared calm and unshaken, but inside, his heart was pounding with nervousness.

It was his first time in a fight, so his anxiety was understandable. He had never learned any form of combat or self-defense. Until a few hours ago, such skills had seemed unnecessary—until he found himself transmigrated into this body and a parallel Earth where gangs ran rampant. 

When he transmigrated, he received a system and was on his way to his first quest. As far as he could remember, he had chosen the easy quest.

[Easy Mission: Building a successful Fight Club requires three key elements: a strong leader, a capable team, and a solid foundation. Without these, it's just another ordinary club. Stay focused and follow the objectives below to achieve greatness.

1. Objective: Deal with the thugs harassing the old lady. 

2. Objective: Recruit one or more skilled individuals to join your team. 

3. Objective: Secure a suitable location to establish your Fight Club.

Normal Mission: Recruit three skilled fighters to join the Fight Club.

Hell Mission: Every individual holds different beliefs, but violence can bring us together. Prove that strength is the ultimate solution to all problems. Conquer Cheongin High School and expand the Fight Club's influence across the streets.]

[The Daily Mission will refresh every day at midnight, and the user can only accept one mission per day.]

'Should I just run away and choose another mission when it refreshes?' Adam Shin sighed to himself. He had accepted the Easy Mission because it seemed simple, but he never expected it to feel almost like a Difficult Mission.

'Damn... if I keep running away, it'll accomplish nothing. I'll just end up looking pathetic.'

He stretched his neck and glanced at the thugs. 'This is going to be though.' 

His gaze then fell behind them. The elderly woman's stall was destroyed, and she was crying on the ground. Despite the passage of time and the pitiful sight of the old woman, no one had stepped in to help. If he left her there, he would be consumed by guilt.

Adam Shin wasn't a hero. He didn't believe in justice or saving the day, but he did have his own philosophy: violence should be used for protection and growth, not for evil or selfish reasons. The world was already chaotic enough—there was no need to make it worse.

He sighed deeply. "Leave the old lady alone. I'll take care of all of you, and I'll remind you..."

Before he could finish, a fist flew at him. Adam Shin quickly dodged, the fist barely grazing his cheek, and immediately counterattacked by striking the leader's stomach.

However, when his fist made contact, Adam grimaced and quickly stepped back. 'What kind of body is that? It feels like I hit a stone!'

"What's that a punch?" The leader mocked. 

However, Adam Shin ignored the leader's threats and dashed forward, throwing a powerful punch. The strike connected, and the two were instantly locked in a ferocious brawl. Fists flew as they clashed, each blow fueled by raw determination. The lackeys and nearby passersby paused to watch, forming a tense circle around the chaotic fight.

The brawl quickly turned into a test of endurance. Both fighters traded heavy punches, their faces bruising and bleeding under the relentless onslaught. But when it came to resilience, Adam Shin had no equal. His endurance didn't come from mere physical strength—it was forged in the fires of a harsh past and shaped by countless experiences from his previous life. Each strike he took seemed to fuel his willpower rather than drain it.

The leader, on the other hand, had impressive physical strength, but something vital was missing—skill. To an experienced fighter, the battle looked like little more than a messy playground scuffle. Neither Adam nor the leader displayed proper combat techniques or intent; they were simply swinging wildly, driven by raw emotion and stubborn determination.

But while the leader relied solely on brute force, Adam's unyielding spirit gave him the edge. His fists, though unrefined, carried the weight of a life filled with trials, and with every punch, he drew closer to victory. 

"Fuck! What is he made of?" the leader grunted, wiping the blood from his lips. His fists hammered Adam Shin's body, but the young man refused to fall. Blood dripped from his lips, and his gaze remained unyielding. For a moment, the leader was shaken.

"Who are you supposed to be? Mind your own business!" the leader snapped at him before turning to his lackeys. "Get him! Fuck him up!"

"You couldn't beat me in a one-on-one fight, and now you want to outnumber me?" Adam Shin chuckled lightly, wiping the blood from his eyes glasses. Despite the prolonged battle, he still had some stamina left, and his body could endure longer. 

Much longer...

'I need to end this now.'

As his opponents slowly advanced toward him, Adam suddenly remembered his status.

[Adam Shin

Male: 17

Stats:

- Strength: C 

- Dexterity: C 

- Constitution: A 

- Intelligence: B 

- Potential: Transcend

Skills:(none) 

Fight Club Points: 0]

If his guess was correct, the leader was probably around B rank in terms of strength. Adam knew what A-rank strength looked like—fighters like Vasco and Vin Jin were A-rank, and S-rank fighters were monsters like Gun and Goon, possibly even stronger.

As for intelligence? That was another story. The leader's intelligence was probably below F. Adam wasn't mocking him; it was just the truth.

In terms of strength and numbers, he was at a disadvantage, but in terms of endurance, he surpassed the group of thugs. Adam grinned, and once again, the streets erupted into chaos as the battle resumed. 

"Fuck it!" Adam Shin laughed. "Grandma, after this, treat me to some free tteokbokki."

This was just the beginning. The legend of the Immortal King would spread, first through the streets, then across Seoul, and eventually, throughout the entire world.