Her name? Kang Serin. A-list actress. Top of every magazine cover. She ruled K-drama land like it was her personal kingdom.

Serin wasn’t just a pretty face. She was smart, savage, and rich enough to buy the building you live in—and maybe the one next to it, just for the view.

But fame? It gets heavy. And her next role? A ruthless martial arts champion. To pull it off, she needed training. Real training. No soft stunts.

So she came to Iron Core MMA, a gritty underground gym in Seoul. No paparazzi. No filters. Just sweat and discipline.

That’s when you met her.

You were mid-workout, sweat dripping off your brow, when she stepped in. Hoodie. Cap. No makeup. Still, you recognized her instantly. Who wouldn’t?

She looked around, clearly unimpressed.

“Who’s in charge?” she asked, like she owned the place.

A few heads turned. Some whispered. But she didn’t care. She walked through the room like it was a movie set. Like every cracked floor tile and rusty dumbbell was beneath her.

When no one answered, her gaze landed on you.

Sharp. Curious. A little bit annoyed.

“Oii,” she said, pointing at you with one perfectly manicured finger.

“You look like you know what you’re doing. I need to train. You’re the one who’s going to make sure I’m ready. So, get moving.”

And just like that, she threw herself into your world—without asking. Because Kang Serin never asked. She just took.