Lookism (Gun Park And Goo Kim's Moments)

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厶凵𐘨 尸卂尺长'丂 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:: ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʏᴘᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄᴀʟ ᴇʀʀᴏʀꜱ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴋ]
» 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐯𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞. 

In the midst of the rain, I removed my glasses, and under the watchful eyes of the spectators, Johan lunged towards me. Instead of immediately countering, I chose to see his progress since our last encounter. With the rain intensifying, I put my glasses back on just as he unleashed a distracting punch, swiftly followed by a forceful kick aimed at my face.

I opted to defend with only my left arm, keenly aware of the emotional fervor behind Johan's attacks. His punches carried the weight of emotions, which paradoxically made him more vulnerable. However, what caught me off guard was the increased effectiveness of his strikes compared to our previous bout.  Johan's strikes now breached my defenses more effectively than our previous encounter, signaling a significant improvement in his abilities.

As I maintained my defense, observing the nuances of Johan's learned movements, a subtle realization crept in, prompting a wry smile. It was undeniable – he was mirroring my Kyokushin techniques.

"You've picked up on this too?" I remarked, offering a genuine compliment, acknowledging him as my student. However, the prospect of him becoming my successor seemed distant; he appeared too delicate for such a role. "You've got talent, kid," I admitted, "I might never find someone as gifted as you."

"That's why it's a shame," I added, seizing the opportunity to grip his wrist and execute an aikido throw. "Your body struggles to match the pace of your talent."

"Its like your software is cutting edge. "Still appearing a smile on my amazed face" but your hardwares from 90s"

In the room, Tabasco's watchful gaze caught my attention, prompting a sly grin as I realized he was witnessing the unfolding scenario.

I shifted my focus to Johan, who knelt before me, fists clenched. "You're the complete opposite of that guy," I remarked, nodding subtly in Tabasco's direction.

Taking a deliberate drag, I exhaled a stream of smoke.

"Let's be honest. Your leadership lacks the flair of Jake, and the financials don't quite measure up to the hard work put in by the team." Pausing, I added with a nonchalant tone, "At least throw in a dash of decency, like Eli did before he mysteriously disappeared. Well, nevermind."

Leaning against the worn-out bar counter, I looked at him, my gaze unwavering.

"And that's the stupidity to charge at me with your tired body," I remarked with a seriousness that hung in the air, his attack unfolding as my words lingered.

"Out of all the candidates, you may have the best talent," I conceded, taking a deliberate drag on my cigarette and exhaling slowly.

"But you're rock bottom overall," I stated matter-of-factly, landing a punch with a monotony that betrayed any sense of enjoyment. He crumpled to the floor, resorting to biting my shoes in a desperate display.

I lit up another cigarette, taking my time to savor the moment. Another drag, another exhale, the act of smoking becoming a brief respite from the monotony of the brawl.

"So, you're back stealing sneakers?" I questioned, my gaze piercing through him. "A dog that bites his own master has to be thrown away. Especially when he's lost his teeth."

"In the end, you couldn't prove your worthiness," I noted as he lay there on the floor, the silence broken only by his quiet sobs.

My eyes swept across the crowd, a sea of indifferent faces, all unwilling to intervene. The atmosphere reeked of apathy, and it was evident that no one cared enough to lend a helping hand.

"It's sad. So many people out here," I mused, addressing him while taking a drag from my cigarette. "And not a single one of them stepping up to help you." The cold reality of his situation hung in the air, with the surrounding onlookers frozen in a collective display of inaction.

"I pulled Jake's teeth out," I informed him, maintaining a steely gaze, contemplating my next move. "What should I take from you?"

His tears persisted as I leaned in, about to touch his face when an unexpected force grabbed my neck, pushing me off balance.

"Move aside," a stranger intervened, paying little attention to me and focusing on Johan. "You alright?"

I stabilized myself with a hand and questioned, "Who are you?"

"Me?" He replied, taking Johan's wrist and helping him stand. "I'm his friend." The unexpected ally added a twist to the situation, as the focus shifted from confrontation to unexpected assistance.