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Chapter 9 - Chapter 9:

By the time Soon Hae reached the harbor, the sun was already dipping low, painting the water in streaks of orange and gold.

Every muscle in her body ached. Her shoulders throbbed from countless jabs, her legs were still trembling from footwork drills, and her knuckles felt like someone had taken a hammer to them. Even her eyelashes felt tired.

She could already see it: her tiny room, the cool breeze from the open window, her blanket like a soft cloud

"SOON HAE!"

The voice sliced through her fantasy like a knife through tofu.

She froze in the alley beside the restaurant.

Her stepmother was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, apron dusted with flour. "You're just getting back now?"

"Training ran late…" Soon Hae mumbled, her voice weak.

"Training?" Her stepmother's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, right. The punching thing. Well, your fists may be busy, but the dishes aren't going to wash themselves."

Soon Hae's jaw dropped. "Can I… just… shower first?"

"No. You'll drip sweat in the kitchen. Wash the bowls. Then take the trash out. Then mop the floor. Customers are still here, so serve table three when you're done."

---

Her dream of collapsing into bed crumbled into dust.

Dragging her feet inside, she tied the spare apron, which felt suspiciously like a prison uniform at that moment. The restaurant smelled of spicy jjigae and fried squid, and the hum of conversation filled the room.

Table three was a group of ajummas gossiping so loudly they barely noticed when she set down their steaming bowls of sujebi.

"You're late today, Soon Hae ah," one of them said with a teasing smile. "Off flirting with boys?"

She forced a laugh. "Something like that…"

---

The dishes were stacked like a tower of doom in the sink. She plunged her hands into the soapy water, wincing as the heat stung her sore knuckles. Her arms protested with every scrub.

"Faster!" her stepmother barked from across the kitchen. "You wash like you're massaging the plates."

"I am massaging them," Soon Hae muttered under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" she said quickly.

---

Half an hour later, the last dish clinked into the drying rack. She thought maybe just maybe she could sneak away to her room before the next task.

No such luck.

"Soon Hae! Take these menus to the new customers," her stepmother ordered, thrusting laminated cards into her hands.

She shuffled to the table, hips and knees aching, and gave the menus with her best fake smile. "Welcome to Haebada Bunsik "

The man at the table grinned. "Hey! You're the girl who fell in the ring today!"

Her eyes widened. He was one of the rookies from Iron Tiger, sitting with two others.

Great.... Just great.

"Order?" she asked flatly.

"Two spicy jjigae, one kimchi pancake," he said, still smirking. "Oh, and don't slip on the way to the kitchen."

She resisted the urge to whack him with the menu.

---

Closing time came, her stepmother was still muttering about "kids these days" and "how boxing won't put food on the table."

Soon Hae finally made it to her room, flopping face first onto her blanket. The medal on her desk caught the faint glow from the street lamp outside.

Her body hurt, her pride hurt, and her stepmother's words buzzed in her head like a stubborn mosquito.

But the image of Han Luhan's calm, focused eyes pushed through all that.

Tomorrow, she promised herself. Tomorrow she had to be a little stronger.

And maybe, one day, strong enough to prove everyone wrong.

---

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