Chapter 07
Sunwoo, who had said he’d skip out, got up at dawn and went to the gym.
Despite its shabby sign, the gym—freshly remodeled—was well equipped for professional training.
Right from the entrance hung the medal and photos of Kim Geon, who had won last month’s UFC championship.
Instead of torn sandbags, there were several high-end branded ones, and even separate aqua bags for uppercuts and body shots.
Aside from the damp, basement air, it managed to give off the vibe of a gym that had produced notable fighters.
Sunwoo, who had arrived at dawn, had already finished a conditioning spar with the head coach, Kwon Jipyeong, and was in his second round.
The sound of mitts and gloves colliding echoed through the semi-basement gym.
Just as Sunwoo’s breathing grew rough, Jipyeong waved his glove in the air, signaling to stop.
“Haah… guess you’re getting old too, Coach.”
“I’m basically fifty, you punk.”
Jipyeong, in his mid-forties, climbed down from the ring, panting.
Still wearing his gloves, Sunwoo ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.
Through his tight compression wear, his well-sculpted muscles seemed almost visible.
Jipyeong had watched him for over ten years, and not once had he seen an ounce of fat on that body.
Relentless bastard.
“My body’s not even warmed up yet.”
“Take those gloves off! What are you, a national athlete?”
Jipyeong snapped at Sunwoo, who looked at him as if asking whether it was really over.
If he kept up with Sunwoo pouring out full power from the crack of dawn, his body wouldn’t hold up.
“Has Geon been coming to the gym lately?”
Sunwoo asked, pulling off his gloves.
There was obvious disappointment on his face.
“He said he’s going on a trip with his girlfriend. It hasn’t been long since his match ended, either.”
“Girlfriend?”
Sunwoo couldn’t finish his sentence, stunned.
He shook his head, picturing Geon’s cauliflower ears and rough appearance.
Was dating really that easy?
“Even Geon has a girlfriend, so why are you here with me at this hour, Mr. Lawyer?”
“Seriously, I’m shocked. There’s a woman willing to date that brat?”
Half-lidded, Sunwoo stared at the photo of Geon wearing his medal.
For some reason, he felt a slight sense of defeat.
“You should try dating too. Get married, have kids. Live like everyone else.”
As if tired of hearing it, Sunwoo shook his head and roughly dried his wet hair with a towel.
Why did everyone talk like marriage was the ultimate goal in life?
As if they’d all agreed on it without him.
“Why would I trust some complete stranger with no blood ties enough to put them on my family register? Legal ties are scarier than blood. In Korea, one out of three marriages ends in divorce. All because of one bad marriage.”
It was clear he meant to shut down any further nagging.
Jipyeong turned his head away, muttering just loud enough to be heard.
“Aren’t you hot? No one else is here—just take it off already.”
Sunwoo always insisted on long sleeves—it was a long-standing habit.
He covered his hideous burn scars with tattoos, but even while working out, he stuck to long-sleeved athletic wear.
“Alright, alright. Go to work already, you lazy bum.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll go. Gym fees are going up—I’ve got to earn.”
“Try the shower room. It’s called VIP, but it’s basically just for you.”
It wasn’t just the training facilities Jipyeong had focused on during the remodel.
For Sunwoo, who couldn’t use the communal showers and always had to go home drenched in sweat, he’d wanted to build a private one.
To Jipyeong, who had come up to Seoul from the provinces with nothing and managed this shabby gym, Geon and Sunwoo were like family.
As Sunwoo headed to the shower, he waved his towel behind him.
Would the day ever come when Kim Sunwoo would take off those suffocating clothes?
What’s the big deal about burn scars?
He’s a man, for crying out loud.
The private shower Jipyeong had carefully prepared for Sunwoo was quite pleasant.
Sunwoo took out his underwear and work suit from a wide paper bag and got dressed.
A faint dry-cleaning scent lingered on his white shirt.
He put on his suit jacket and pinned on his lawyer’s badge.
After sweating it out, his head felt clear.
“Let’s start the meeting in 20 minutes.”
Now neatly dressed, Sunwoo called Minki and informed him.
After the brief call, he left the gym.
From the gym to Seocho-dong—about 17 minutes.
He figured he’d have time for a cigarette in the remaining three minutes.
“Looks like all the firm’s top brass are here. You’ve all eaten, right?”
Sunwoo entered the meeting room, stirring a paper cup with a packet of instant coffee.
The staff barely reacted to his arrival, flipping through the counterclaim.
“They’re trying to take even this building—when it’s the only thing left to Lee Yujin… no conscience at all.”
“In a divorce suit, what conscience is there?”
Sunwoo replied, slurping the last of his coffee.
“Alright, shall we take a look at the counterclaim?”
At his words, Minki brought up an image of a building on the screen.
“A building ten minutes from Gangnam Station. Currently under Lee Yujin’s name. She bought it ten years ago for 20 billion won, and now it’s worth over 30 billion. Jung Jaehyun claims that since he managed the building after their marriage, he’s entitled to half.”
Sighs broke out around the room.
Back when Yujin bought the building before marriage, it had dominated portal site headlines for a week.
A full-cash purchase of 20 billion—no surprise.
“Jaehyun’s putting forward Seo Jeongyeon, director of Saegwang Art Museum, as a supporting caregiver. How’s someone that busy supposed to raise a child?”
“I checked her schedule—it’s been completely cleared. Probably just for show.”
As the staff skimmed through the counterclaim and response, they commented.
The documents, prepared by a high-powered legal team, systematically refuted Yujin’s arguments.
“Unbelievable. He brings in an illegitimate child and then claims she’s unfit as a mother because she left the kid?”
“It’s exactly the kind of thing Jaehyun would latch onto. Who knows how long the case will drag on.”
“How are we supposed to defend this? It’d be great if we could just get one photo of him fooling around with his mistress.”
While everyone chimed in, Sunwoo remained silent, staring intently at the defendant’s response.
“Even for Jung Jaehyun, this is pushing it.”
The firm’s chief waved the counterclaim in the air.
“Shouldn’t we focus on defending custody first?”
A lawyer sitting across from Sunwoo joined in.
Amid the noisy discussion, Sunwoo took off his jacket and draped it over an empty chair.
“We proceed by the book. Jung Jaehyun committed adultery during the marriage—he’s the at-fault spouse. And the fact that he brought in an illegitimate child won’t change even if that building collapses into dust.”
Sunwoo stood up as he spoke.
“As an at-fault spouse, there’s only one way he can become the primary caregiver—if the other party is unfit to raise the child. You all know what his counterclaim implies. We respond aggressively to this deliberate and malicious move. Of course, we also need to prove he’s unfit as a guardian. And…”
He glanced at Minki while leaning over the table.
“We’re claiming 20 billion won in damages. When’s the deadline for the immediate appeal?”
“Three days left.”
Sunwoo lowered his gaze again, tapping the counterclaim with his index finger.
More precisely, the name written on it: Plaintiff Lee Yujin.
“We’re working late tonight.”
Sunwoo was definitely not a nice boss.
