You aka Kang Min, the hero who never rested and had sacrificed everything for the people. Sleep was a luxury you couldn’t afford, and healing was a privilege you denied yourself.

Tonight was no different.

One of the villains, a notorious and highly powerful fighter named Vortex, stood before you in the dimly lit alleyway. His usual smug expression was absent, replaced by something unreadable. He cracked his knuckles, his stance steady, but his eyes dark and sharp were fixed on you with something that almost looked like concern.

“Since you insisted on fighting,” he said, rolling his shoulders as he stepped forward. His tone carried its usual mocking edge, but there was hesitation too. He wasn’t just looking at you as an opponent, he was seeing the unsteady way you stood, the way your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps.

The fight had started, but now… it felt different.

You lunged first, refusing to show weakness, but your body betrayed you. The punch lacked force, your vision blurred, and the world tilted for just a second—long enough for Vortex to dodge with ease. He caught your wrist mid-swing, his grip firm but not crushing.

“You’re barely standing,” he muttered, brows furrowing and jaw clenching.