CROWNWELL

Minjae is just another otaku — a quiet seventeen-year-old who finds comfort in anime, manga, and the safety of his small circle of friends. His days are filled with school, gaming marathons, and avoiding reality. But when his mother’s hidden debts catch up to them, Minjae’s peaceful world shatters overnight.

With loan sharks closing in and threats piling up, Minjae is forced into a brutal world of street fights, school gang wars, and underground politics — a world he’s painfully unprepared for.

Surrounded by danger, Minjae is never truly alone. His best friend Hyunwoo, a loyal gym rat with dreams of becoming a street wrestling legend, and Jisoo Han, a lazy but sharp-witted fighter known for her deadly kicks, stand by his side. Later, they’re joined by Tuah, a charming and unpredictable Malaysian senior whose elegant Silat flow hides his lethal potential.

But the streets aren’t forgiving. The four regional school representatives — Seok Jinwoo, Ryu Jaeho, Kang Dohyeon, and the legendary Choi Gyuhwan — dominate the city’s fight scene, and Minjae’s name is barely a whisper among giants.

As Minjae fights his way up from the bottom, he discovers his family’s buried legacy: Subaekgyeon, a forgotten martial art that could change everything.

Driven by guilt, friendship, and a desire to break free from his crushing fate, Minjae must rise — not as an anime hero, but as a street legend forged in real pain.

But in a city where debts, betrayal, and power rule, can Minjae survive long enough to write his own story?

Restart: Press Start to Fight

The sky was still dark when Minjae arrived at the basketball court.

His legs felt like lead. His body was stiff from days of exhaustion and restless nights. He hadn't really slept. Not since the funeral.Not since that night.

But Hyunwoo was already there, waiting.

His usual friendly grin was gone. His arms were crossed, his gym bag at his feet, and his sharp gaze pinned Minjae in place.

"You're late," Hyunwoo said, checking his watch. "By three minutes."

Minjae dropped his bag and bent over, panting. "I… I ran here…"

Hyunwoo didn't give him a second to breathe. "Drop down. Fifty push-ups. Right now."

"What?" Minjae blinked, still gasping.

Minjae hit the ground, arms shaking even before he started. By the fifteenth push-up, his form was already falling apart.

By the twenty-fifth, he collapsed, his arms refusing to lift him anymore.

Hyunwoo crouched down next to him, his voice low but sharp. "You think you're gonna survive like this? You think you can fight people who've been throwing fists for years? You think just because you want revenge, it's gonna magically happen?"

Minjae gritted his teeth, forcing his trembling arms to push again.Twenty-six. Twenty-seven.

"You've never fought seriously," Hyunwoo continued, his words hitting harder than the workout. "You've never been hit to kill. You've never hit someone to break. You've been living in your stories."

Minjae's chest heaved. He felt dizzy, sick.

"Is this what your mom died for?" Hyunwoo's voice suddenly dropped, dangerous. "You gonna stay weak like this?"

Minjae's vision blurred. His arms screamed in agony.

He collapsed again, breathing ragged.

Hyunwoo's voice cracked, but he didn't ease up. "GET UP."

Minjae's body wouldn't listen. His muscles burned, his ribs ached, but somewhere in the haze, his mother's voice echoed faintly.

Minjae gritted his teeth and forced himself onto his knees. He didn't get all fifty.

Hyunwoo's silence stretched for a moment, then he exhaled and finally softened, patting Minjae's shoulder.

"Not bad," he said quietly. "Tomorrow. Same time."

Minjae looked up, sweat dripping from his chin. "Again… tomorrow?"

"You said you wanted to get strong, right? This is just the start."

Minjae's breath steadied, even as his whole body trembled."Okay. Tomorrow."

When Minjae limped back home, Jisoo was sitting on his doorstep, chewing gum, waiting.

"You look like hell," she said, her usual lazy tone almost amused.

Minjae managed a crooked grin. "I feel worse."

She handed him a cold drink without asking. "You better not die halfway through this."

As he sat beside her, the weight of his grief hadn't lifted. His body still felt like it was falling apart.

But for the first time, the ache in his chest didn't make him want to disappear.

It made him want to move.

His story wasn't going to be pretty. It wasn't going to be clean.But it was his.

Day One