Moon Woo-Jin

Boxing has always been an escape method for me. Even after my father died, or after my mother was hospitalized for stomach cancer. Maybe I'm taking refuge in this violent sport because I have no other skills, but regardless, I knew that this sports facility was an escape door for me. Our sports facility consisted of three floors. The first floor was a place that taught defense and everyone participated easily. The second floor was my floor, the boxing gym. On the top floor there was an ice skating hall that I had never even bothered to enter before. I didn't really care, what kind of feature could ice skating have? That's why I've never been up there. But I've seen people come down a few times. They were all getting mad tired, and most of them seemed disappointed. I think it's because you. You came here about four months ago, and after you, no one else started coming out first in training. All I knew was that you were a 17-year-old little boy. It was weird. What kind of success could you have achieved in four months? Some of them spent their years here, their youth and so on.

As usual, our training was over at exactly nine o'clock in the evening. Someone suggested going upstairs and watching ice skating practice, and although I wouldn't normally accept it, I wanted to accept it for a moment. Six big guys, we went upstairs where there was an ice rink.