Life is Easier If You're Handsome-Chapter 242

Generally speaking.

"Are you just going to leave like this?"

"Are you afraid of Kim Donghu?!"

The second press conference had a much more intense atmosphere than the first.

So the questions were sharp, aggressive.

But Edward didn’t care.

He shrugged and lowered the mic.

"When facing a caveman, I realized fists speak louder than words."

With that, Edward walked out.

The reporters looked disappointed.

"This is such a letdown."

They had so many things they wanted to ask.

Normally, before the second press conference, fighters would release public training footage or documentaries the week prior.

But Edward avoided all of that this time.

Not completely—just enough to make it feel like he was hiding something.

A clear sign of just how focused he was on this fight.

The reporters wanted to dig into that.

But Edward left in a hurry, and that chance was gone.

"But it’s not like we can just suddenly switch to Donghu Kim..."

Meanwhile, Kim Donghu had already revealed everything.

From training footage to promotional content on social media.

Even going out of his way to interact with his Korean fans.

Yet, the reporters still sided with Edward.

One major reason was—

"For all that strength, is his technique lacking?"

Kim Donghu’s training videos weren’t particularly special.

So, the journalists dug into his past training footage.

They analyzed every clip they could find.

And in the end, they reached a single conclusion.

"Wait... this is really how he trains?"

"How the hell does someone do this kind of basic training... and still hold those absurd records?"

He was an opponent impossible to predict.

And just like that, the second press conference ended with a whimper.

Time passed swiftly.

And soon, the day before the match arrived.

Official weigh-in day.

***

"Donghu! Tarzan hit $600 million in its first weekend!"

"Really? Hearing that gives me even more energy."

Weigh-in day.

Hearing the news from Seokho-hyung, I got up and stretched.

"Alright, I’m heading out."

Honestly, the weigh-in itself would only take about one or two minutes.

The real event?

The face-off afterward.

In heavyweight boxing, weigh-ins weren’t that important.

There was no upper weight limit.

As long as I weighed more than 90.27 kg, I was cleared to fight.

So stepping on the scale?

It was basically just for show.

And sure enough—

"Both fighters have successfully made weight."

The moment it ended, reporters immediately lifted their cameras.

They had been waiting for this.

FLASH!

FLASH!

FLASH!

The shutters went off like crazy.

And then, there he was—Edward.

But unlike the last press conference, today, he was smiling.

"Looks like you’ve been eating well."

At my comment, Edward flinched slightly.

"Like it even matters when beating a caveman."

CLICK.

CLICK.

CLICK.

With every step, the distance between us shrank.

But unlike a normal face-off, today?

I had five security guards standing beside me, ready to intervene.

"Seems like you’re the only one who thinks that. Look around—who do you think the security is protecting?"

A casual provocation.

"You son of a bitch!"

Edward took the bait immediately.

Without hesitation, he threw a punch at my face.

SWOOSH!

It was fast.

Faster than what I had seen from him in the amateurs.

"Alright. That was decent ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) speed."

But that was it.

GRAB.

I caught his wrist—effortlessly.

"Bad habit. Should I break a bone before the match?"

The moment I said that—

"Donghu Kim! Calm down!"

"This is going too far! Please step back!"

The guards rushed in.

Even though Edward was the one who threw the first punch.

"...Fucking hell."

Edward knew.

He knew exactly what just happened.

He couldn’t do anything.

So instead, he clenched his jaw and stormed out—furious, but helpless.

Tomorrow was going to be fun.

***

WBC Heavyweight Championship Match.

Wembley Stadium.

90,000 seats.

A boiling atmosphere.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

They had watched all the talk shows, all the hype videos, all the buildup.

Now?

They wanted blood and sweat.

"The scale of this is insane."

"I mean, with Disney and Netflix involved, what did you expect?"

Reporters double-checked the match schedule.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"Undercard, semi-main... then the opening performance before the main event."

"But did you hear? Is the opening performance real?"

"You mean... Evelyn is performing?"

"Yeah. If that’s true, this is evil."

"No, this is genius. They’re playing her song as Donghu enters the arena."

As they talked, they glanced at today’s guest list.

The biggest corporate figures.

The British royal family.

An absolutely insane lineup.

And after the fight?

The gloves used in the match would be immediately auctioned off.

"They’re saying that alone will sell for billions."

The sheer amount of money involved in this fight was unbelievable.

Time passed quickly.

Before they knew it, the semi-main event was over.

After a brief intermission—

"ARE YOU READY FOR BATTLE?!"

The main event was about to begin.

Inside Wembley Stadium, both the British and Korean national anthems played.

And then—

To the sound of Evelyn’s entrance song, Edward Maxwell walked into the ring first.

He flexed his massive frame, roaring like a beast, showing the world what a champion looked like.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Then—

Slowly.

Quietly.

Kim Donghu entered.

No roaring.

No screaming.

He simply walked forward, brushing his fingers against the hands of his fans.

Hunting.

Because when you're a predator, you don't scare away your prey before the kill.

***

"Noisy."

Edward frowned as the referee listed the final instructions.

Why repeat what everyone already knew?

Or—

"Wait. Does that bastard not know because he’s still an amateur?"

The thought made him chuckle.

In heavyweight boxing, there was no three-knockdown rule.

No matter how many times you knocked someone down, it wouldn’t automatically end the fight.

The match would either go all twelve rounds to a decision—

Or end with a knockout.

"Let’s see how long an amateur can last."

As that thought crossed his mind—

"Ready! Fight!"

The match began.

They touched gloves lightly, and Edward immediately created distance.

"I’ll show you what real professional boxing looks like."

With that, he moved in at a calculated pace.

But the moment he did—

Kim Donghu mirrored his approach.

"Hm?"

A strange, unsettling sensation crept up Edward’s spine.

It was something only years of training could let him notice.

It was ridiculous to even consider—but...

"Is he copying me?"

No. That couldn’t be.

Still—just to test it out—Edward adjusted his stance.

Rustle.

"...?"

One second later—

Kim Donghu adjusted his stance in the exact same way.

A perfect mirror image.

Swoosh.

If Edward threw a jab, Kim Donghu threw the same jab.

If Edward feinted forward, Kim Donghu lowered his stance in response.

The first round was supposed to be a feeling-out process.

Most boxers wouldn’t rush in too aggressively from the start.

But this—

"This crazy bastard!"

Kim Donghu wasn’t feeling him out.

He was mocking him.

Like a child repeating words to annoy someone.

"Then let’s see you copy this!"

Edward charged in, closing the gap instantly.

Or at least, he thought he had.

"...?!"

Lower.

Kim Donghu had gone even lower, appearing beneath Edward before he could react.

Impossible.

He had moved later, yet arrived first.

BOOM!

Pain exploded in Edward’s gut.

"Kuhak!"

Luckily, he didn’t go down.

He twisted his body just in time, but his mind was reeling.

Instinctively, Edward clinched—

Wrapping his arms around Kim Donghu to stop further blows.

The referee stepped in to separate them.

A few seconds of reprieve.

Edward took the brief moment to gather himself.

And in front of him—

Kim Donghu stood, perfectly still, in the exact same stance.

As if asking:

"So, is this how modern boxing is supposed to be?"

Fear crept into Edward’s chest.

But only for a second.

His battle-hardened mentality kicked in.

No.

He wouldn’t let this get to him.

Instead—he flipped his mindset.

"How far do you think you can take this childish act?"

If the opponent could copy him—

He’d move too fast to copy.

A brief standoff.

Hup!

Edward held his breath—then lunged forward.

Professional boxers could throw over seven punches per second.

It was impossible to react to all of them.

This was a game of prediction and calculation.

There were limits that a caveman could never reach.

"Let me show you a level you’ll never achieve!"

His first punch shot forward.

At that exact moment—

Kim Donghu moved.

Their fists met in midair.

Tap.

But Kim Donghu’s fist—

Landed first.

Redirecting Edward’s strike before it could reach him.

And in the next instant—

Edward’s body was bombarded by a barrage of blows.

PAPAPAPAPAPAP!

A relentless flurry.

Each punch was a question.

"Were you about to do this?"

And Edward?

He had no answer.

Thud.

He collapsed.

The first knockdown of the match—

In just 25 seconds.

As Edward struggled on the canvas—

Kim Donghu, expressionless, spoke.

"Get up."