Gapryoung Kim stood tall, nearly six and a half feet. His pristine white tuxedo, complemented by a peach-toned suit, gave him an air of quiet regality. His sharp eyes, both firm and confused, locked onto Apollo.
The other Kings were just as bewildered. Expressions of shock and disbelief painted their faces—none of them could understand why Apollo now stood between them and the infamous figure before them.
Apollo shook his head. Though his eyes appeared calm, beneath the surface, his mind was racing with calculations. Dalyoung lay unconscious behind him—bleeding, battered, body broken like a cracked water fountain. Apollo grimaced. Any longer and the man might actually die.
His foot twitched. If his plan was to work, he had to convince Gapryoung now—no second chances. It's alright, Apollo. You've always had good communication skills, he told himself. His gaze drifted to Gapryoung. Even if it is the strongest man on Earth.
Steeling himself, Apollo puffed his chest and stood tall.
"It might come off as rude, but you should take some accountability, Mr. Kim."
The words cut through the tense silence like a blade.
Jichang nearly double-taked. His eyes widened in disbelief. Does Apollo have a death wish? He glanced back at Jinrang, who remained crouched beside their brothers, carefully tending to their injuries, but now also focused on the conversation.
Jichang sighed. The doctors I called must be arriving any minute now.
His eyes returned to Apollo. Why is he going up against Gapryoung... for this man? Thoughts churned violently in his mind. The more he thought about it, the more intricate it all seemed.
It's almost as if Apollo is preparing... but for what? He clasped his hands together, brows furrowing. His actions in Cheonliang... His motive for making a crew... There had to be something more. What could possibly scare Apollo into all this?
Just who?
Meanwhile, Apollo and Gapryoung faced off.
Gapryoung finally spoke, his aura radiating like invisible gravity—crushing, oppressive. Apollo almost buckled. His bones creaked under the pressure, and though Gapryoung's expression was stoic, Apollo felt like he was being crushed from the inside out.
Gapryoung's voice was calm, yet carried a hint of irritation. "What do you mean I'm not taking accountability?"
Apollo steadied himself. "You took in a disciple, but you were never there for him. You showed him the way—but that's not what a real mentor does." He paused, letting the words settle like iron in the air. Even the wind felt heavier.
"When he strayed, you didn't look for the real cause. You just blamed him. Yes—killing him might end it. But if that's how you 'take care' of your students... then you're a pretty shitty mentor."
By the end, Apollo's voice cracked into a near-shout. What was supposed to be calm came out strained and high-pitched.
His thoughts briefly drifted to Hansu—his mentor. He sighed, muscles still sore from the fight. Hansu would've never left his student in such a state.
Gapryoung's expression softened. His narrowed eyes relaxed ever so slightly. "It's not as if I don't know that, young Apollo." His voice was quiet now. "You're not wrong."
Apollo blinked. For a second, it looked like hope had returned to his eyes.
"But I don't hold his hand through the journey," Gapryoung continued. "He is his own man. His decisions are his own. I can help—a little. But his karma... that's something he has to face alone."
Gapryoung's expression turned distant—melancholic. He remembered the pink-haired boy from years ago: weak, poor... but defiant. Dalyoung had taken beating after beating, falling again and again, yet always getting up. He had something special in his eyes.
Conviction.
The conviction to overcome his limits.
Gapryoung had believed in it. And he had been right. But somewhere along the path, the boy had darkened. Fallen. Become something twisted. That was why he lost to Jinrang.
Gapryoung turned to look at Jinrang—wounded, bloodied, and traumatized—but crouched beside his brothers, refusing to give in. Conviction, he thought again. I saw it in that little wolf... and I was right once more.
Apollo exhaled. His expression shifted. He clenched his fists and then released them.
"If his actions are his to bear… if you can't guide him through it," Apollo said, voice low but dangerous, "then you don't get to decide his fate either."
His lips twitched slightly. Deep down, he hadn't expected Gapryoung to even take Dalyoung in.
And though he hated to admit it… a part of him knew the man wasn't entirely wrong. He looked at Dalyoung's broken form and sighed. If I could, I'd beat the shit out of you myself.
Apollo moved—light on his feet, deliberate. In seconds, he was beside the unconscious pink-haired man. He leaned in, lips brushing close to the man's ear.
Dalyoung Oh, unconscious and battered, would remember only one thing from this moment—a voice whispering through the haze:
"This is the only chance I can give you. Come out a reformed man… or die by my hands."
Apollo wasn't bluffing. His eyes carried unmistakable killing intent. But Dalyoung remained unaware, lost to the pain.
Gapryoung blinked. "What are you doing, Apo—"
Before he could finish, a high-pitched screech echoed through the air.
Police? Gapryoung noted, brows lifting.
His head turned. A wave of vehicles approached—at least fifteen cars. The low thrum of a helicopter overhead added weight to the moment. Its spotlight shone directly on Dalyoung's body.
The vehicles skidded to a stop before Gapryoung. Doors burst open, and officers poured out—some bowing respectfully to the legendary fighter, others unaware of his identity. A team moved quickly, cuffing Dalyoung's limp arms.
Medics followed, lifting Dalyoung onto a stretcher and carrying him toward an ambulance.
Gapryoung turned to Apollo, who smiled subtly.
And for a moment, Gapryoung was silent—taking in the irony of the entire scene.
Then, suddenly, he burst into laughter.
"Ha! Ha ha ha ha!" His laugh cut through the chaos—booming, thunderous. All heads turned.
But Gapryoung didn't care. He looked at Apollo with a mixture of admiration and exasperation.
"I don't know whether I should thank you… or kill you."
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