The air in Seoul was electric, a pulsing heartbeat of neon and noise that thrummed through the crowded streets of Gangnam. Towering skyscrapers pierced the twilight sky, their glass facades reflecting a kaleidoscope of pinks and blues from the flashing signs below. The city was alive, a symphony of hurried footsteps, sharp laughter, and the sizzle of street food being cooked on every corner. And in the midst of this chaotic beauty, something—or rather, someone—materialized out of thin air.
Broly didn’t just appear; he *erupted* into existence, a mountain of muscle and raw, sculpted perfection. One moment, the spot on the sidewalk was empty; the next, there he stood, all six-foot-five of him, with shoulders broad enough to block out the sun and a jawline so sharp it could cut glass. His dark hair fell in messy waves over his forehead, and his emerald-green eyes blinked in utter confusion as he took in his surroundings. He wore nothing but a pair of tattered black pants that clung to his thighs like a second skin, leaving his chiseled chest and rippling abs on full display.
“What the hell…” he muttered to himself, his deep voice a low rumble as he patted his torso, as if checking to make sure he was real. The last thing he remembered was… well, nothing. Just a void, a blur of violence and rage, and now—now he was *here*, wherever “here” was.
Around him, the bustling street came to a screeching halt. Women—hundreds of them, of every age and style—froze mid-step, their conversations dying on their lips as their eyes locked onto him. A young woman in a sleek business suit dropped her coffee, the cup shattering on the pavement. A group of trendy teens in neon crop tops gasped in unison, their phones forgotten in their hands. An older lady with a grocery bag clutched her chest, murmuring something in Korean that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.
Broly shifted uncomfortably, his massive arms crossing over his chest as he felt the weight of a thousand stares. “Uh… hi?” he tried, offering a sheepish wave. His voice seemed to snap the crowd out of their trance, and a murmur of disbelief rippled through the women. Some edged closer, their eyes wide with fascination; others whispered to each other, pointing at him like he was some kind of alien artifact.
Before he could make sense of the situation, a sharp, commanding voice cut through the buzz. “Hey, you! Yeah, you, Mr. Walking Statue! What’s your deal?”
Broly turned to see a woman striding toward him, her presence as bold as her tone. She was in her late twenties, with a cascade of glossy black hair tied into a high ponytail and piercing almond-shaped eyes that sized him up without a hint of fear. Her ripped jeans and tight tank top showed off a lean, athletic build, and she carried herself with the confidence of someone who owned the street. A food stall apron was tied around her waist, stained with what looked like chili oil, and she wiped her hands on it as she approached, her gaze flicking over him with a mix of suspicion and unabashed curiosity.
“I’m Min-Ji,” she declared, planting herself in front of him with her hands on her hips. “And I don’t know if you’re some kind of hologram or a runaway model from a photoshoot, but you’re blocking my customers. So spill it—who are you, and why do you look like you just stepped out of a damn romance novel?”
Broly blinked down at her, caught off guard by the rapid-fire interrogation. “I’m… Broly,” he said slowly, his voice a deep, uncertain growl. “And I don’t know how I got here. I just… showed up. Where am I, anyway?”
Min-Ji arched a perfectly shaped brow, her lips curling into a smirk. “You’re in Seoul, beefcake. South Korea. Ring any bells, or did you just drop out of the sky with abs like that and no brain to match?”
He frowned, rubbing the back of his neck, which only made his biceps flex in a way that drew a collective sigh from the nearby onlookers. “Seoul… Never heard of it. And I’m not sure about the abs thing. I wasn’t always… like this.”
“Oh, please,” Min-Ji snorted, stepping closer and poking a finger into his chest. Her touch was firm, unapologetic, and it sent a jolt through him that he couldn’t quite explain. “You expect me to believe you just *woke up* looking like a god? What are you, some kind of lab experiment gone wrong? Or right, depending on who’s looking.”
Broly’s brows furrowed deeper, but before he could respond, a murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd. A woman in a chic trench coat called out, “If he’s an experiment, I volunteer to take him home for research!” Another, a punk-rocker type with pink hair, shouted, “Back off, ladies! I saw him first!”
Min-Ji whipped around, her eyes narrowing as she shot daggers at the interlopers. “Hey, hey, hey! I’m handling this, so keep your thirsty paws off! He’s mine to figure out, got it?” She turned back to Broly, her smirk returning as she crossed her arms. “You’re lucky I’m curious, big guy. Otherwise, I’d let these vultures tear you apart. Come on, let’s get you out of the street before someone starts a riot over your pretty face.”
Broly hesitated, glancing at the sea of hungry stares surrounding him. “Why are there no… other guys around? It’s just… women. Everywhere.”
Min-Ji’s smirk faltered for a split second, replaced by a flicker of genuine shock. Then she laughed, a sharp, incredulous sound that made her ponytail bounce. “You’re serious, aren’t you? Oh, honey, you really *are* lost. Men haven’t been around for decades. Extinct. Kaput. Gone. We’ve been running the show ever since, and doing a damn fine job of it, if I do say so myself.” She tilted her head, studying him with renewed intensity. “Which makes you… what? A ghost? A time traveler? Or just the luckiest glitch in the matrix?”
Broly’s jaw dropped, his mind reeling. “Extinct? That’s… that’s impossible. I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Exactly,” Min-Ji purred, her voice dripping with intrigue as she grabbed his wrist and tugged him toward her food stall a few meters away. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone half his size, and he stumbled after her, too stunned to resist. “Which means you’re either a miracle or a problem. And I’m gonna figure out which one. Sit your fine ass down over here and don’t move while I think.”
She pushed him onto a stool behind her stall, a tiny setup with a sizzling grill and stacks of skewers ready to be cooked. The smell of spicy gochujang and grilled meat wafted around them, grounding him in the surreal moment as Min-Ji leaned against the counter, her eyes never leaving him. The crowd of women lingered nearby, whispering and snapping sneaky photos with their phones, but Min-Ji’s glare kept them at bay—for now.
“So, Broly,” she said, drawing out his name like she was tasting it. “You got no memory, no clue, and no place to go. That about sum it up?”
He nodded, still processing the absurdity of it all. “Pretty much. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do now.”
Min-Ji grinned, a wicked edge to it as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Lucky for you, I’ve got plenty of ideas. First, you’re sticking with me. I don’t trust these other girls not to kidnap you the second I turn my back. Second, we’re gonna figure out what makes you tick—and I mean that literally, because I’m dying to know if every part of you is as… impressive as the rest.” She winked, and Broly felt heat creep up his neck, though he wasn’t sure if it was embarrassment or something else.
“You’re… very direct,” he managed, his voice rough as he met her gaze.
“Damn right I am,” she shot back, her grin widening. “When you’ve got a once-in-a-lifetime specimen like you drop into your lap, you don’t play coy. Now, eat this—” She shoved a skewer of grilled chicken into his hand, the spicy aroma making his stomach growl. “—and don’t argue. I’m in charge here, got it?”
Broly stared at the food, then at her, a faint smirk tugging at his lips despite himself. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good boy,” Min-Ji teased, patting his cheek with a boldness that made his pulse jump. “Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you survive this estrogen jungle. But don’t get too comfortable—I’ve got competition sniffing around already, and I don’t share.”
As if on cue, a stunning woman in a leather jacket sauntered closer, her hips swaying with purpose. “Min-Ji, you can’t hog him all to yourself,” she called out, her voice sultry and challenging. “Let the rest of us have a turn with the mystery man.”
Min-Ji spun around, her posture bristling with territorial fire. “Back off, Soo-Yeon. I found him, I’m keeping him. Go flirt with a mannequin if you’re that desperate.”
Broly watched the exchange, the skewer forgotten in his hand as he realized just how complicated his new reality was about to get. He was a lone man in a world of women, a walking anomaly in a city that hadn’t seen his kind in generations. And Min-Ji, with her sharp tongue and iron will, had already staked her claim—but the hungry looks from the crowd told him this was only the beginning of the battle for his attention.
For the first time since waking up in this strange place, Broly felt a flicker of amusement. Maybe being the last man on Earth wouldn’t be so bad after all.
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