Lookism: King's Ascension

The man in grey was fast. Not just quick on his feet—fast in thought. He moved in the same second Taeyang did, bringing the vice up like a shield.

CRACK!

The impact split the air. Concrete shattered beneath them, dust kicking up from the sheer force of their clash. Taeyang's fist met steel, but he didn't stop. His other hand shot out, clawing for flesh.

A blur—the vice spun.

Something heavy slammed into his ribs. A fist? The metal? Didn't matter. Taeyang twisted with it, rolling with the force, already swinging back—

THUD!

A knee to the stomach. Taeyang coughed, barely dodging the clamp as it came down, hard enough to leave cracks in the ground as it pried into the concrete. 

Too close.

He moved back, circling, fingers flexing, breath heaving. The man in grey rolled his shoulders, tapping the vice against his palm.

And he smiled.

"What's wrong, dog?" His voice was light, casual. "Didn't like that?"

Taeyang wiped blood from his mouth. "You talk too much."

He shot forward again. This time, he faked left—then cut low, aiming for the guy's legs.

It almost worked.

But the man in grey was sharp. Too sharp. He leapt back before Taeyang could hook his ankle. The vice swung down—Taeyang twisted away, but not fast enough.

CRACK!

Metal smashed into his shoulder. Fuck. He staggered, the impact vibrating through his bones.

The man in grey didn't stop. He stepped in, knee driving toward Taeyang's ribs.

Taeyang caught it.

His arms screamed from the pain, but he didn't let go. He yanked—hard—throwing the guy off balance.

And then he bit down on his throat.

The man in grey snarled, elbow slamming into Taeyang's temple. But Taeyang didn't let go. He ripped away, teeth dragging, the familiar metallic tang of blood filling his mouth.

The guy stumbled back, hand flying to his neck.

Taeyang spat.

It wasn't much, just a bite… but the message was clear.

He wasn't fighting like a man.

He was fighting like something else.

The man in grey tilted his head, wiping blood from his skin. Then… he laughed.

"Oh, that's good," he murmured. "You really are an animal."

Taeyang didn't answer. He just crouched lower, fingers flexing.

The man exhaled, adjusting his grip on the vice.

"I like that," he admitted. "But you think you're the only one that thinks like that?"

CRASH!

The vice smashed into the ground. Taeyang jumped back, barely dodging. A feint.

Then something else hit him with a crunch.

A fist.

The vice was just a distraction.

Taeyang's head snapped back. His vision blurred.

Then the clamp closed around his wrist.

Cold, unyielding steel.

The man in grey grinned.

"Now… let's see if you howl."

He twisted.

The vice cranked tighter around his wrist.

For a split second, he felt the cold bite of metal digging into bone—felt the threat of it. But Taeyang didn't freeze. He didn't give the man in grey the reaction he wanted.

Instead, he moved.

His body twisted, arm yanking against the pressure before it could crush anything vital. The vice wasn't locked yet, he could still slip free. 

He wrenched back—fast, sharp, his teeth snapping for the guy's throat.

But this time, the man in grey was ready.

He jerked back just enough, twisting the vice with him. Controlling the space.

"You're predictable," he said. "You only have two weapons."

Taeyang exhaled, rolling his shoulder. "That so?"

The man's grip tightened. He swung again, not just the vice, but his entire body. A seamless movement, fist and steel blurred together, attacking from two angles at once.

Taeyang read it this time.

He ducked. Slid in. His claws flashed, slicing across fabric, nearly catching skin—but not enough.

The man laughed as he backstepped.

"See? That's all you do."

He spoke like he'd already won. Like he'd figured Taeyang out.

Wrong.

Because Taeyang had changed.

He wasn't the same fighter from months ago.

Back then, he fought like an animal because he had no choice. Because instinct was all he had, all he knew.

But now?

Now, he'd remembered something else.

The First Generation Kings.

And the question had lingered in his mind for weeks after his first battle. Why?

Why did they only train one thing to the extreme? Why only one technique, one weapon, instead of mastering it all?

The answer came to him in the bruises, the blood, the constant, unrelenting fights over the past few months.

This was a war.

No one had the luxury of time.

They didn't perfect everything. They found one thing.

One thing they could rely on. One thing they could push beyond human limits.

Taesoo Ma's fist.

Jichang Kwak's hand blades.

Seokdu Wang's headbutts.

And Taeyang?

He wasn't a First Generation King. Not even close.

But he'd found his own truth.

A claw wasn't just a tool for slashing.

A claw was anything that tore through its prey.

The man in grey stepped in again, vice swinging, prepared for the usual counter… teeth, claws, upper body.

So he didn't see it.

Didn't see the low kick.

Didn't even process it… until it shattered into him.

CRACK!

The impact sounded wrong.

Like concrete caving in. Like metal being warped under pressure.

The man's leg bent inward.

The vice, the steel weapon in his grip… dented.

Something in its mechanism snapped, twisting out of alignment. The force of the kick had crushed both flesh and metal.

The man in grey's breath hitched.

Not a scream. Not yet.

He was still in shock.

Then his leg collapsed.

He crumpled like a marionette with cut strings, his body slamming against the ground.

And then the scream came.

Raw. Choked. Agonized.

Taeyang exhaled, rolling his shoulders. Stepped closer.

The man in grey twitched, gasping, fingers trying to move… but the vice in his hand wasn't working anymore.

Taeyang looked down at him.

"You were saying?"

The man shuddered. His breath came in broken wheezes.

Then, finally… his fingers let go.

The vice hit the floor.

The fight was over.

But Taeyang wasn't looking at him anymore.

He turned his head. Looked toward Jungseok and then Munseong, unconscious on the ground. Looked at his hand… mangled, ruined, barely recognizable as human.

His jaw clenched.

Not for the first time that night… he bared his teeth.

Not in a grin.

Not in a snarl.

But in pure, seething rage.

He stepped forward.

The man in grey flinched. Tried to move. But his broken leg barely even twitched.

Taeyang crouched down. Fingers curling. 

A claw ready to tear through flesh.

And then—

"Enough."

A voice. Minho.

Calm and detached.

He stood at the entrance, gaze flicking over the wreckage. His eyes landed on the ruined vice. The broken body.

And then, finally... on Taeyang.

"… Is he the one that did that to Munseong?"

Taeyang grit his teeth and then forced out a nod.

Minho didn't respond. He stared for a long time and then nodded.

"Put his body into the truck… he's going into one of our holding rooms."

The man in grey gasped, weak and ragged, trying to lift his head. His voice was barely above a whisper, a desperate plea escaping from his cracked lips.

"Please… don't… don't do this. I didn't… I didn't mean for it to happen. Just—just let me go. I'll never hurt anyone again. Please..."

His breath hitched as he tried to lift his broken body.

Minho's gaze never wavered as he took a slow step forward. He was as still as death itself, his eyes still, never shifting.

The man in grey's voice quivered again. "Please… I'll do anything. Just don't, don't—"

Before he could finish, Minho's leg blurred.

He crushed his foot down next to the man's head, the ground cratering beneath the impact.

CRACK!

The man's body flinched as rock shards cut through him, terror seeping into his eyes as he looked up at Minho.

Minho crouched down with a slow, deliberate motion, his voice low and venomous.

"You're not in control here."

He leaned in close, his breath hot against the man's ear. "You did that to Munseong's hand, you broke it, made him scream. Well…

Minho clicked his tongue.

"...I'm going to do the same thing to every part of your fucking body."

The man's eyes widened with horror, and his breath faltered.

Silence filled the room. 

Taeyang watched the way his face drained of color. The way his body shook, breath coming in short, shuddering gasps.

And yet… he felt nothing.

No pity. No hesitation.

Not for someone like this.

He pushed past the lingering heat under his skin, the way his fingers still felt itchy. Restless.

Minho stood. "We've set the charges. Planted the Suwon badges."

His voice was calm. Detached. Like he wasn't standing over a broken man, a ruined battlefield.

Like none of this mattered.

Taeyang just nodded back.

Minho dragged the man in grey's limp body toward the exit. Taeyang bent down, slinging Munseong and Jungseok's unconscious weight over his shoulders.

And then, without another word—

They left.

***

The night air was cold.

The truck was already running. The low hum of the engine filled the empty lot, headlights casting long shadows across the cracked pavement.

Dongwoo shoved the man in grey into the back. Minho secured him, silent, methodical. Taeyang eased Munseong into the seat beside him, his breathing still slow and uneven.

Then the doors shut.

The truck pulled out of the lot.

The meat plant behind them collapsed in flames.

A dull, quiet boom.

The fire ate through the old concrete, the wooden beams, the steel lined with Suwon's emblem.

By the time the fire department arrived, there'd be nothing left but rubble and an unanswered question.

Suwon's badge, Suwon's attack, Suwon's problem.

No evidence. No witnesses.

The plan had gone perfectly.

And yet…

Taeyang sat in the truck, staring at Munseong's ruined hand.

It wasn't guilt. It wasn't regret.

It was something else.

His fingers curled slightly, nails digging into his palms.

Minho watched him from the front seat. He didn't say anything for a long moment.

Then, finally…

"…You don't look satisfied."

Taeyang didn't answer.

The fire burned in the distance, consuming everything.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Not bad for 3 months. In any case, Minho and Jeongdu are still stronger than him, but not by much. He can definitely hold his own against them. But 3 months of self training and fighting isn't going to take you to King-level I'm afraid.  

And he'll rise through the ranks.

Also question, do you think that Heat mode was a common powerup in the lookism verse? At least during 1st gen? 

And my art skills aren't enough to do Taeyang justice so here is an art piece not done by me. 

Here.