Jeok Ryeong was sitting in the shadows of his apartment. His body, marked by wounds from the past months, seemed like a reflection of his shattered spirit. His bandages were untidy, and dried blood traced the lines of his defeats. Around him, the silence was an unyielding judge. Four months had passed of continuous defeats, facing opponents who were beyond any limit he could imagine.
These rivals, known as "those who surpassed the wall," were the pinnacle of perfection in combat. Strength, speed, endurance, technique... they had it all. Against them, Jeok barely posed a challenge. Every fight ended in defeat, sometimes without landing a single blow. They humiliated him, knocking him down as if he were an apprentice.
The defeats not only affected his body; they also began to devour his mind. During the long nights after his fights, hallucinations visited him. He saw distorted versions of himself criticizing him, mocking his failures. "You're weak." "Why do you keep fighting?" "You will never be enough."
In moments of silence, his thoughts became his worst enemy. He began to question everything: his purpose, his style, his identity as a fighter. It was as if he was losing the sense of who he was. He had reached the point of "forgetting who you are," a devastating disconnection that plunged him into unbearable despair.
One night, while looking at his bandaged hands, his vision started to blur. In his mind, he remembered all the times he had fallen to the ground, humiliated. All the times his opponents looked down on him as if he didn't deserve to be in the ring. Tears filled his eyes as he murmured: —What more can I do?
It was in that personal abyss that Jeok understood something. To reach a place where he could overcome these challenges, he first needed to destroy the version of himself incapable of moving forward. He had to reach the bottom of his misery to rebuild from scratch.
"If I am going to find myself, I have to lose everything I am now."
It was at that moment that he decided to seek something bigger, something that would push him beyond all limits. He needed to face someone who made him feel completely helpless, as if he were facing an impossible wall to overcome.
Days later, Jeok found that opponent. He was a fighter named Tae Woong—a figure that represented the peak of perfection in combat. When Jeok arrived at the place where the fight would take place, the atmosphere felt heavier, as if Tae Woong's presence was impregnated in the air.
Tae Woong looked at him with disdain, evaluating the young man who had dared to challenge him. —Are you the one who wants to fight me? —he said with a cold, deep voice.
Jeok didn't answer. He knew that words meant nothing here. The true fight would be the only way to speak.
The fight began, and from the first moment, Jeok felt the vast difference between them. Every strike from Tae Woong was like a hammer shattering his resistance. Every movement of Jeok was dodged easily or blocked with terrifying precision.
At a critical moment, Tae Woong launched a devastating blow to Jeok's torso, making him fall to the ground with a muffled thud. The impact was so brutal that Jeok felt all the air escape from his lungs in a muffled gasp, leaving him trapped in silent agony. The feeling of emptiness invaded him, an unbearable weight pressing on his chest and robbing him of the ability to breathe, as if an invisible force was trying to take away his life at that moment of desperation.
While lying on the ground, with blurred vision and a distorted world, a deep darkness began to invade his mind. Jeok's eyes, which previously reflected doubts and fear, started to lose all spark of humanity. His gaze turned cold and empty, his pupils became dull gray, as if disconnected from the source of all emotion and consciousness. It was as if his soul was in a state of inconsistency, an abyss of silence and total hopelessness, where hope seemed like a distant and cruel word.
But amid that overwhelming nothingness, something began to awaken inside him—a spark of resistance that could not be extinguished. A silent scream deep within his being, a desperate plea to keep fighting, echoed inside him. With superhuman effort, almost as if his life depended on it, Jeok managed to get up, staggering, with an effort that seemed to tear his entrails. His eyes, which until then were empty, began to shine with a faint pink glow, a soft but intense light that seemed to defy the very darkness that had consumed him.
This radical change, this awakening in the midst of the abyss, marked the beginning of what they call "Surpassing the Wall." It was a desperate struggle against despair itself, an act of resistance at a moment when everything seemed lost. Despair had not only struck him but had tried to destroy him, to erase him completely, and now, with that unexpected glow in his eyes, Jeok clung with all his strength to the hope that he could still win, that he could still save himself. The battle for his soul had just begun, and at that moment, despair became his most powerful weapon.
Jeok Ryeong was standing, staggering, with his light pink eyes shining intensely. He had reached his resistance limit, but his spirit remained relentless. Opposite him, Tae Woong showed no signs of hesitation. He quickly advanced, his right fist prepared to deliver a blow that seemed capable of destroying any defense.
Jeok watched the movement, reading every detail with terrifying clarity. Just as Tae Woong's fist was about to connect, Jeok made a quick lateral step, moving with impeccable precision. With a circular movement of his palm, he deflected the blow, redirecting the impact's force into the void.
Without stopping, Jeok caught Tae Woong's arm with a firm grip, holding the wrist and elbow with both hands. Taking advantage of the momentum of the attack, he turned his torso backward in a wide arc, lifting the wall's body as he lost complete control.
The crowd watched in disbelief as Jeok executed the move with perfect fluidity. In an instant, he redirected all the accumulated force forward, and Tae Woong spun in the air, crashing backward onto the ground with a devastating impact. The dry sound of the blow resonated throughout the place, making it clear that Jeok had turned Tae Woong's strength into his own weapon.
For the first time, Tae Woong, a fighter who had always been at the top, was on the ground, stunned by the counterattack. The crowd, which had been silent during the fight, let out a roar of amazement. Jeok, with his body still marked by wounds and heavy breathing, remained steady as he watched his opponent.
Furious, Tae Woong got up and advanced with all his destructive force and intent, rushing straight toward the protagonist. But he, in a state of controlled calm, patiently waited, like a tiger lurking in the shadows. When the right moment arrived, he took a firm, decisive step forward, slightly to the side of the attacker. With a gentle slide of his right hand, as if wrapping the enemy in an invisible thread, the protagonist performed a smooth, elegant movement. His body spun in a continuous twist, guiding the opponent's trajectory toward a new angle. The calculated torsion completely destabilized the attacker, who lost his balance and was projected backward.
In a subtle but precise movement, Tae Woong fell backward with a resonant impact on the floor. Seizing the opportunity, the protagonist stepped forcefully on his face, pressing his foot into the rival's face. The opponent's jaw sank, his nose broke, and some teeth were knocked out, mixed with violent bleeding. The scene was marked by the brutality of the confrontation, where the calm of the protagonist contrasted with the fury of the fight.
After the fight ended, Jeok remained still for a few seconds, observing his defeated opponent on the ground. The crowd around him cheered, but their voices sounded distant, as if he were trapped in another world. His eyes, which had shone with that pink flash during the fight, began to fade slowly, returning to their usual color.
........
After the fight, Jeok Ryeong returned to his apartment, his body exhausted and marked by the blows of combat. He closed the door behind him, leaving behind the noise of the outside world. The victory against the Wall had been monumental, but he didn't feel like an absolute triumph. There was something deeper that troubled him, something he couldn't ignore.
He sat down in the chair in front of his desk, where his Ryeong Style notebook was open. His hands, still trembling from the effort, rested on the table as his gaze lost itself in the filled pages. Each movement, each technique, each principle he had written down represented a fragment of his journey, but now it seemed incomplete.
"What was that?" he thought, remembering the moment when his eyes shone with that faint pink glow. He had felt something different, something he couldn't explain. It was as if he had touched a power he didn't know he had, but which had also led him to the brink of losing himself.
While reflecting, the images of the fight returned to his mind. He remembered how he deflected Tae Woong's blow, how he used his strength against him, and how he managed to knock him down with a devastating impact. But he also remembered the emptiness he had felt before getting up, the moment he "forgot who he was."
"Is this what it means to surpass the wall?" he wondered. "Losing yourself to find yourself again?"
Jeok knew he couldn't stay in that uncertain state. If he wanted to keep moving forward, he had to understand what had happened inside him during the fight. Was that power something he could control, or just a fleeting spark? Was it a sign of his growth, or a warning of the limits he was crossing?
Jeok closed the notebook and slowly got up. His body still hurt, but his mind was more focused than ever. He looked out the window, toward the city lights, and muttered to himself: —This isn't over. If I want to understand what I am, I have to keep going.
With that determination, Jeok began to plan his next step. He knew that tough times were not over, but he also knew that each challenge brought him closer to discovering his true potential.
The next day's sun illuminated the streets with a warmth that seemed to invite calm. Jeok Ryeong, for the first time in months, decided to take the day off. His body was still battered, and his mind needed to clear itself of battles and training. Dressed in looser, fresher clothes, suited to his calm but elegant personality, he left his apartment intending to walk aimlessly.
As he wandered through the city alleys, he stopped to observe the small details of his surroundings. It was the first time in a long time that he wasn't focused on survival or overcoming a fight. The graffiti-covered walls, the murmur of conversations among passersby, and even the aroma of street food captured his attention as if he were seeing them for the first time.
"What do I do with my future?" he thought as he continued his walk. "I can't just depend on fights. This can't be all I am."
As his steps took him further from his apartment, a warm, melodic sound caught his attention. It came from a small music store that looked almost hidden among the neighboring buildings. Curious, Jeok approached and entered, finding a vibrant and welcoming atmosphere. In the center of the store, a group of musicians played instruments, creating an atmosphere that seemed to flow directly into the soul.
Jeok fell silent, watching how each musician played with passion, as if each note was an extension of themselves. For a moment, he simply listened, letting the music envelop him. It was an absolute contrast to the intensity of his life as a fighter, a form of expression that didn't involve punches or force.
"Why not try it?" he thought. "Maybe music can be my way to disconnect, to find something beyond fighting."
Inspired by what he had seen and heard, Jeok explored the store's aisles, observing the instruments. That's when his eyes stopped on an electric guitar that seemed to call him. It was red, with a purple web design that somehow reminded him of his fighting stance. Jeok felt that this instrument was perfect for him—a combination of strength and style that represented who he was and who he could become.
Without hesitation, he bought the guitar, feeling an emotion he hadn't experienced in a long time. As he left the store, with the guitar hanging over his shoulder, Jeok smiled faintly.
"Maybe this is the start of something new," he thought as he walked back through the streets. "I don't know where it will take me, but I'm willing to find out."
That night, Jeok placed the guitar on his desk, next to his Ryeong Style notebook. He looked at it for a moment, thinking about how that free day had changed his perspective. Although struggles remained an essential part of his life, he now saw that there were other ways to express himself, other ways to grow.
"It's not just about being stronger," he thought as he picked up the guitar for the first time. "It's about discovering who I really am."
With that idea in mind, Jeok began exploring the possibilities that music offered him—a new path that could bring balance to his life of fighting and challenges.