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7. The Final Grand Prix Arrives! <2>
“Hahahaha!”
Everyone burst out in laughter at the sight of Changgong in his fighting shirt and trunks.
“Working part-time at a bossam restaurant?”
“Korean bossam power! Bossam fighter!”
“Do we get a discount if we say we know you?”
“Do you like sex man? Or is bossam man better?”
As Changgong predicted, all the coaches teased him.
‘These people just love to tease me, don’t they.’
Changgong pouted in discontentment.
“Okay, okay! Stop teasing Changgong. We should be congratulating him for his first sponsor.”
Dongsub spoke.
“Jeez Dongsub, we weren’t teasing him.”
“Congratulations, rookie. Don’t forget about me if you make it big.”
“Are you going to buy us bossam with the money?”
As if they hadn’t just been teasing him, the coaches all pat Changgong on the back to congratulate him.
This was the gym’s tradition. A fighter had to present himself to everyone when he got his first sponsor.
Hearing that, Changgong’s expression softened.
“You have to train harder now that you have a sponsor behind you. Another won’t come in if you get destroyed, right?”
“I’ll work hard.”
“Let’s do it. We’ll win and you’ll transition to pro. Let’s get a sponsorship from Adidas or Reebok.”
“Yes!”
“Go change. Time to train.”
Changgong threw himself into his training after he changed.
It was when Changgong was immersed in his strike training.
“Changgong! You have a call!”
Doyoon shouted from the office.
“There’s no one to call me at the gym, though. Is it my father?”
“Go get the call.”
Dongsub spoke.
“I’ll be right back.”
Changgong took off his gloves and picked up the phone in the office.
“Hurry it up.”
“Who is it?”
“Said they were a friend.”
Changgong answered the phone.
“Hello?”
-You son of a bitch.
“Chunkyu?”
Changgong’s friend Chunkyu Kim had called.
-I called you so many times and you didn’t pick up once, bastard.
“Sorry, I was busy training.”
-Do you train for 24 hours straight? You’re supposed to call back if you have a missed call, motherfucker. Not even checking your Kakaotalk.
“Jeez, I got it already.”
-You don’t got it, you chode.
Changgong smirked. He had kept forgetting to call back because he was really busy, and it seemed his friend was really pissed off.
-You didn’t even get us the tickets for your match, huh?
“Oh that. Something came up.”
-What, you prick.
“Hey, I didn’t tell you before, but I have to pay for all that. Those tickets were 30 thousand won a piece, and they all sold out before I could get any.”
-

Really?
“I have another match this Saturday. I’ll get you tickets for sure this time if you can make it.”
-You don’t have to give me any if it’s hard on you.
Chunkyu’s attitude made a 180. 30 thousand won wasn’t small money for a high schooler.
“Bitch, just tell me if you can come or not.”
-I can go


“Then stop talking and come with Seongcheol. I’ll get you two tickets.”
-Okay.
“I’ll call you when I’m done training.
-Fosho, bitch. Keep in touch.
“Alright, sorry.”
-Bye.
Chunkyu hung up. Changgong smiled as he put the phone down.
The tickets were 35 thousand won this time around. 70 thousand won for two.
But still, he could do this much for his friends. He had a sponsor, too.
“Would it be possible to get two tickets for the match coming up?”
“Your friends say they’ll come?”
“Yeah. Are there any left?”
“I’ll talk to Hyukchan and get you some.”
“Thank you.”
“Get going. Dongsub’s waiting for you.”
Changgong hastily left the office.
‘Let’s do this.’
Changgong couldn’t embarrass himself in front of his friends.
***
It was the day before the opening of the grand prix.
Changgong went to the P Hotel in Seoul for his weigh in. Dongsub and Doyoon were with him like last time.
“It seems for real this time around. Last time, the weigh-ins were on the same day and everything, so it was a bit disorienting.”
“That could be better in some ways. We have to come back tomorrow. I think just the gas will be 50 thousand won, man.”
Doyoon spoke.
“Isn’t this a natural gas car? What’re you complaining about?”
“Do you want to walk?”
“Are you going to take responsibility if I lose because I used up all my energy walking?”
“This kid’s been slowly growing balls lately.”
Changgong and Doyoon bickered all the way to the hotel.
Dongsub spoke.
“Actually, I don’t really like it either. If they have money to spend on stuff like this, they should just give the fighters more fight money.”
“But still, it’s going to be broadcast.”
Dongsub didn’t complain further.
The martial arts federation and the fighters had an unbalanced partnership.
It was only natural. There were many fighters while there were few stages. A talented fighter was just a normal person without a stage to prove himself.
Of course, many groups were working to improve the fighters’ treatment. But there was a limit to what they could do because of the lack of popularity and the entrenched sponsorship culture. The main goal for them was still to make a profit.
“Are there going to be reporters?”
“There’s going to be a few sports reporters. But it’s not a major stage so don’t expect too much.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of what to say in interviews.”
Dongsub couldn’t believe what he just heard.
“Who said anyone would be interviewing you?”
“Won’t they? I made it into the grand prix finals, right?”
Dongsub and Doyoon smirked.
‘I got it, jeez. No interview. Tsk.’
“Anyways, the weigh-in is going to be public. There’s going to be cameras too so don’t strip your undies like last time. Sundae (sausage) boy.”
Doyoon spoke.
“God, just forget about that.”
It was easy to tell that the grand prix was different from the matches before.
It was just the weigh-in, yet there was a whole stage to show off in front of the audience and cameras. The event was legit.
There were lightweight class fighters, too.
They were going to be on stage before Changgong’s Golden Glove Interleague 4. Those four were the lightweight fighters who made it through Interleague 3. There were going to be 8 fighters total at tomorrow’s matches.
After a brief introduction of the fighters, the weigh-ins began. Each fighter called up would disrobe and strike a pose on top of the scale. A round of applause followed each fighter who made their weight.
-The next weigh-in is Changgong Lee.
“Go, Changgong.”
Changgong disrobed on stage and stood on the scale. It was a little awkward just standing there, so Changgong posed naturally like the other fighters with his arms spread out. Snap! Snap! Cameras flashed everywhere.
There was a problem.
“Fighter Changgong Lee at 77.16 kg, you are 60 grams over the limit.”
“Huh?”
The hall buzzed with whispers.
There was no leniency in the weight limit in these matches.
Changgong’s heart fell.
‘What happened?’
Changgong was sure he had matched his weight to exactly 77.1. He hadn’t eaten anything. He should have lost a bit of weight, not gained any.
So how did he gain 60 grams?
“Changgong, what happened?”
Dongsub spoke as he approached Changgong.
“I don’t know. I was sure that I made the weight

”
“Think carefully. What did you eat today?”
Changgong crossed his arms and went over his day in his mind.
“Ah!”
“What?”
“I drank a cup of water before coming to do the weigh-in.”
“What? Are you fucki

!”
Doyoon flinched and held his tongue, feeling the gaze of the audience.
“You idiot. I told you not to eat anything. Why’d you strike a pose like a retard before passing the weigh-in?”
“I wasn’t thinking. I was just thirsty

”
Water had no calories.
But it could affect your weight momentarily.
Dongsub crossed his arms and sighed.
“There’s no other way, Changgong.”
“What do you mean?”
“Take it off.”
“

”
What was he supposed to take off? He was only wearing a flimsy piece of underwear.
“Are you telling me to take off my underwear?”
“What else are you supposed to take off?”
“The octagon girl is standing right there. And there are female staff.”
“So why did you drink water. I’ll cover you with a towel so hurry up and take it off.”
“No! I’m not going to!”
“Strip!”
“No!”
“Strip!”
“No!”
A staff member approached.
“What are you going to do? The rules allow you to weigh-in again in an hour.”
It was allowed by the rules, but it would inconvenience many people. It wouldn’t be good for a barely debuted fighter to complicate a weigh-in with reporters in attendance.
“No, he’ll take off his underwear and go back on.”
Changgong’s jaw fell.
‘What’s he deciding on his own?’
“I’m going to ask for the last time. Do you want to strip yourself? Or should I rip it off you?”
Now Dongsub was threatening him.
“Fu

”
There was nothing he could do to get out of this now. Dongsub would really strip him if he had to. The cost of one cup of water was too high.
“I’ll strip.”
Changgong finally gave in and got on the scale butt naked with Dongsub and Doyoon covering him up with towels. Flash! Flash! Cameras flashed again. ‘Don’t take pictures people. Fuck.’
‘I want to kill myself

”
Changgong passed the weigh-in without anymore problems and quickly put on his underwear and pants. He was about to run away from the stage when Dongsub stopped him.
“You have to pose with your opponent.”
“

”
Changgong had to do a fighting pose with his opponent, take a commemoration photo with the sponsors, and take a group photo with all of the tournament staff before he could get off the stage.
***
On the way back to the gym.
“This bastard must be an exhibitionist.”
Doyoon snickered.
“Is this funny for you? I had to stand butt naked in front of all those people!”
“We covered the important bits. I thought about dropping it, but I held back.”
“I’ll cover your important bits. Do you want to do a strip show!?”
Changgong grabbed onto Doyoon’s pants and pulled.
“You jerk! I’m driving!”
Dongsub continued to laugh by himself.
Changgong caused a stir at both of his weigh-ins.
There weren’t many like that guy. He was just like a character from a comic.
‘Yeah, a comic character.’
If Changgong pulled another thing off in his matches, he could even be the main character. Just like Slam Dunk’s Baekho Kang (Hanamichi Sakuragi).
“You’re my treasure, Changgong.”
Changgong made a disgusted face and rolled his eyes as he spoke.
“What are you saying after taking off my panties. Gross.”


How could a guy be so annoying.
***
Changgong ate right when he got home. He had strictly followed the diet plan for cutting his weight and had always been hungry.
But he couldn’t exactly eat to his heart’s content yet.
He had to avoid instant food, and ordering chicken or jokbal because it felt like a waste of money. They told him to eat as much carbs, fat, and protein as he wanted, but there really wasn’t much for him to eat actually.
“I can’t truly eat, sigh.”
Changgong murmured to himself as he pulled up a video of his opponent Seunggook’s previous match on his phone.
Bzz- A call came in with impeccable timing.
It was Doyoon.
“Yes?”
-I was just wondering what you were up to.”
“I just finished stretching and am now eating now.”
-You’re not eating anything like pizza, hamburgers, or ramen, are you?
“I’m eating a banana. A banana. Tsk.”
-I’m just bored. Poo before you come to the gym tomorrow. And sleep around 8 hours.
“Don’t worry.”
-Keep watching Seunggook’s matches.
“I am. You interrupted me.”
-Don’t be so cold. Oh yeah, don’t jerk off though. It’ll affect your condition.
“God, really? I’m not going to jerk off.”
-I just happened to see while you were showering the other day, but you had a piece of tissue stuck to your dick.
“When! Don’t make stuff up!”
This man was dangerous. He made up stories like it was nothing.
-I was just trying to loosen you up. Sleep before 11 at the latest and come to the gym by 8.
“Okay.”
-Rest up.
Click. Doyoon hung up.
‘Really, am I the only one he has to nag?’