May the Best Man Win

"Kwenchana?"

"Neh."

Detective Lee frantically searched her out at the university as soon as he got the news of the attack.

"Amber said you were jumped on by 7 or 8 men."

"It was just 6."

"6? That's still so many. Are you ok? How did you fight them off?"

"I know some martial arts."

"Aaa...yae, of course," he shook his head, with a wry look.

He knew that.

But why did he not tell her the fact that he knew?

It was a surprise even to himself.

Perhaps he had wanted her to tell him that fact herself.

And not because he did background checks on her.

Still, he kept quiet and pretended that he did not know.

"Why  didn’t I think of that," he smiled almost cynically. "Is there anything you don’t know?"

"I don’t know Mandarin."

She smiled. And he melted once again.

"Arasso," he grinned. "I’ll teach you then."

"Mwo? You know Mandarin? How come everyone I know speaks a foreign language," she pouted.

"Who else speaks a foreign language?" He asked. "Aahh… your ahjussi. What language?"

The mood was broken again. 

And he suddenly felt fiercely competitive.

"Japanese."

"I see."

"And German. And Russian."

He looked at her in disbelief.

And shook his head.

"I just can’t compete, can I?"

"Compete?"

"Never mind," he gave up and started pulling her by the hand. "Let’s go get some drinks."