Life is Easier If You're Handsome-Chapter 270

Bang!

The starting signal for the endurance run rang out.

Urrrrrrgh—

The runners surged forward in unison.

Tatatatatatak!

And in that very moment, Kim Donghu burst ahead.

At first, people didn’t see the point.

The whole run was structured over three rounds totaling sixty minutes.

Why waste energy by going all-out from the start?

But then—

Huh?

The runners in the middle of the pack, those who were carefully pacing themselves,

suddenly noticed something off.

Why does my pace feel so fast?

Wait, I shouldn't be moving this quickly.

Hold on... something’s not right here.

But slowing down? That wasn’t an option either.

Running in the group helped conserve energy—

and stepping out of formation to slow down would only leave you isolated.

Once you dropped behind, you could never regain your original rhythm.

Worse, a brief pause could cause your body to crash entirely.

Only about six minutes in—

collapsing now would be unthinkable.

Huff, huff—

The pace was way faster than anyone was used to.

No matter how well they’d warmed up,

their muscles were already reacting—shocked by the unfamiliar speed.

Who the hell’s running this fast?

The lead runner sets the pace for everyone.

That’s why, in the military, they sometimes put the weakest runner up front.

It forces the group to stay manageable.

But here?

The one leading the charge was Kim Donghu.

Wait, really?

No way, did he go out front just for this?

He actually did it for this reason?!

That’s when it clicked.

Why Kim Donghu had surged ahead from the start—

It was to control the speed of all 100 runners.

To spike the average pace—dramatically.

But this plan relied on one insane assumption:

That Kim Donghu had better stamina than the other 99.

But he’s not even a runner!

...Then again, he’s a boxer. That is running—footwork, roadwork, «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» endurance. It’s part of their training anyway.

The pieces came together.

And by the time they realized it, it was already far too late.

16 kilometers per hour.

A pace to clear 100 meters in the low 20s.

A thirty-minute death march had begun.

Huff... huff—Gah!

The moment your breathing fell out of rhythm,

the moment your muscles started cramping—

it was game over.

“Wait, hold on!”

People broke off from the group—

“Move! MOVE!”

But the artificially jacked-up pace had ruined their legs.

They simply couldn’t move anymore.

“No!

F-Fuck... are you insane?!”

The curses spilled out automatically.

By the 20-minute mark,

more than half the runners had already dropped out.

And Kim Donghu?

Still running, still perfectly on pace.

Right then—

“Donghu Kim! Are you out of your fucking mind?! What are you doing?!”

A familiar voice—

it was DonkeyMonkey, the influencer with three million followers,

now sprinting to catch up and shout at him.

It was an attempt to throw Donghu off rhythm—

even if it meant ruining his own pacing.

But—

“It’s fun, isn’t it? Not having fun? Then I’ll just speed up a little more.”

Donghu responded with a light smile.

And in that moment—

“Huh...?”

Everyone who had somehow kept pace with him—DonkeyMonkey included—suddenly realized:

...He’s calling this relaxed?

He just answered mid-run? He’s treating this like nothing?!

Is this just a casual jog for him?!

Kim Donghu’s stamina wasn’t just incredible—

it was monstrous.

To the point where it was hard to believe he was clean.

Despair hit everyone who was trying to keep up.

***

—“Well done on completing all three rounds.”

—“You’ll now have three hours of rest before the next shoot.”

—“If you feel unwell, injured, or experience anything unusual, please raise your hand. We’ll respond immediately.”

As soon as the announcement ended,

those who had been standing purely on willpower crumpled to the ground.

One full hour of running like maniacs.

It was true long-distance running.

With the added pressure of analyzing their surroundings—

it was enough to drive anyone insane.

But there are always exceptions.

“Still... looks like I got first in Group B.”

“...Who else could it be, sir?”

“Fair enough, I guess.”

Sindre Halvorsen, the marathoner,

looked around with a relatively relaxed expression.

“Too bad Kim Donghu wasn’t in my group. I needed to crush him.”

“You... want to crush him?”

“Obviously. He came in last—I don’t like that.”

Sure, he was impressive.

But did he really deserve to be treated as the climax of Physical 300?

Sindre couldn’t shake that question.

“Honestly, I know I’m not the only one thinking that. A lot of people feel the same.”

“Yeah, I’ve thought about it too.”

The PDs had begged and pleaded to get all of them here.

And now they were blatantly showing favoritism—

treating some like stars, and others like extras.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

That kind of open bias wasn’t easy to swallow.

As they talked during the rest period—

“Still, it’s weird. A lot of people got eliminated from Group A.

I thought they all looked like good runners.”

“...You’re right.”

The elimination list from Group A suddenly came to mind.

With the 300 split into three groups of 100,

Group A—Kim Donghu’s group—had a notably higher number of eliminations.

"Maybe there weren’t many runners?"

"You can’t brute-force a long-distance run. It doesn’t work that way."

Probably just tried to make a good show by sticking with Kim Donghu—and got eliminated for it.

Sindre remarked with a scathing tone, and ironically, he was about half right.

—“Final results have been tallied. First place: Group A, Kim Donghu, total distance run: 17 kilometers.”

Suddenly, the final results were announced.

And the moment people heard Kim Donghu’s distance, they couldn’t believe their ears.

"What? 17 kilometers? You’re telling me he ran 17 kilometers in an hour?"

"H-He’s insane! That’s insane! Wait... then is that why so many people got knocked out of Group A?!"

"3:30 pace? Are you serious—what the hell is he?! He’s an actor, right?!"

3 minutes and 30 seconds per kilometer.

That’s a projected full marathon time of 2 hours 27 minutes.

So why were there so many eliminations in Group A?

"A crazy monster took the lead and wrecked everyone’s pace."

It wasn’t some simple case of small birds getting hurt trying to fly with storks.

No—this was the stork grabbing the small birds by the neck and dragging them along.

“What happens after the break? Is there another event right away?”

“No way. That’d be dangerous. They said it’s interview time.”

“Oh, you mean those shots with the black background and people explaining their thoughts?”

The three-hour break they mentioned was the maximum.

If anyone felt fine, they could go for their interviews early.

"Netflix really went all out, huh... Even got showers ready."

"How much money did they throw at this thing?"

Groups B and C were chatting casually as they looked over the final rankings.

Meanwhile, Group A—

“...Am I even alive?”

“H-Hey, we made it to the end at least...”

“And we’re filming again next week... What’s next?”

"Whatever it is, I’m not getting grouped with Kim Donghu again."

They stumbled like zombies, barely upright.

Collapsing all at once would be dangerous, so they forced themselves to walk it off.

All eyes turned to Kim Donghu—the survivor of the hell train.

Already showered, somehow.

Glowing. Radiant. Looking fresh—and worse—happy.

"Man, running like that feels really good."

“...You’re insane. What feels good?! I thought I was gonna die.”

Kade Walker looked at him with wide, terrified eyes.

"If you ever think about playing football, let me know. I’ll scout you on the spot."

"But you're a player, right? Can you do that?"

"For someone like you? Yeah, I’ve got the pull to stick you right next to me."

"Sounds tempting."

Donghu replied lightly and headed off for the interview.

The Physical 300 PD was practically shaking with excitement when he arrived.

“That was insane! You were incredible!”

“Thanks for the kind words.”

It probably wasn’t appropriate, but—

only contestant interviews would make the final cut anyway, so it was fine.

“Could I ask what your intention was behind running that fast?”

“Oh, the 3:30 pace? Hmm... just because.”

“Excuse me?”

“It was fun, you know? Had a bit of that ‘hell train’ vibe.”

The PD’s jaw fell open at that simple, devastating reply.

So this is what they mean when they say superstars are all a little unhinged...

Everyone else had been dying trying to match that speed—

and this guy was out here saying he enjoyed it.

Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.

Was this just... what being Kim Donghu meant?

If so, it was nothing short of unreal.

***

Late March.

Time for another Physical 300 shoot.

This time, every contestant had their rank written on their forearm.

“What is this, branding us by rank?”

“Putting it on the arm like this... feels kinda gross.”

“Feels that way ‘cause you’re low-ranked. You’d feel great if you were top-tier.”

“...Fair.”

Lower-ranked contestants entered first—

grim expressions from those who’d placed near the bottom of the endurance run.

Mid-tier participants looked more neutral.

Then—

“Whoa... top ten’s walking in.”

When the highest ranks entered, the mood turned solemn.

And it didn’t help that even their assigned spots were different.

It was structured like a pyramid.

Those ranked below 100 were stuck on the dim-lit floor.

From there, lighting gradually brightened with each tier—

until the top ten stood near the pinnacle.

And in the very top spot—

“...What is he, an emperor?”

There wasn’t even a standing spot.

There was a throne.

And, of course, the person sitting in it—

“Holy shit...”

“They’re all wearing the same tracksuit. Why does his look regal?!”

Was Kim Donghu.

Then—

—“We will now begin the first official game.”

The announcement echoed.

—“The first game is a 1:1 deathmatch—tug-of-ball.”

The real Physical 300 had begun.

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