Worst-Case Scenario

A few days earlier, Suwon Blue Sky Clubhouse — the manager's office.

"How's the body holding up? The trainers said you're almost fully recovered."

Manager Kim Seongcheol asked with worried eyes, and Cha Kangmin, seated on the sofa, answered.

"Yes, sir. All healed up. I should be able to rejoin full team training starting this week."

"Good to hear. Honestly, the defensive line's been a shaky mess without you."

A flicker of relief crossed the manager's face, but it was quickly replaced by a long, heavy sigh.

"To be honest with you, our situation right now... it's serious. You know that, Kangmin."

Cha Kangmin's expression darkened as well. Two years ago, an unthinkable relegation to the second division. Last year, a hard-fought promotion back to the top flight. And now, barely halfway through this season, they were circling the relegation zone all over again.

The pride of a storied club from the football capital of Korea had been scraping the bottom for a long time.

What gnawed at Cha Kangmin even more was the knowledge that his own injury absence early in the season had played a major part in the team's slump.

"I know, sir... I've watched every match and it's been eating me alive. Especially the defending without me—"

"Oh, so now you're gonna act like the team lost just 'cause you were gone. Hey, is defense the only problem? Attack's in even worse shape."

The manager pressed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a hand to his aching head as he spoke.

"You need to get back and steady this team, Kangmin. If we drop to the second division again... what face am I supposed to show the chairman?"

Despair bled through the manager's voice.

Watching him like that made Cha Kangmin's heart sink. And yet—maybe the guy he'd found this past Sunday could be the answer to their attacking woes.

"Sir."

Cha Kangmin spoke up.

"On Sunday, I saw someone absolutely unbelievable."

"Hm? What's this? You mean that insane striker you mentioned over dinner that evening?"

Manager Kim snorted at the claim.

"No, sir, I'm serious! I went out for a bit of morning soccer to loosen up during rehab, and that's where I found this complete maniac!"

"Come on, what kind of pro goes to morning pickup soccer for rehab? You sure that was actually rehab? Wasn't this just content for your YouTube channel?"

"Anyway, that's not the point!"

Cha Kangmin shot to his feet and strode up to the manager's desk.

Then he launched into an excited description of the monstrous mercenary he'd met the day before.

"The guy is just crazy good! His physicality is out of this world. He's a wall, literally a wall! I gave him a proper shoulder charge, and *I'm* the one who bounced off!"

"What? You got shoved back?"

Manager Kim's eyes widened slightly. Cha Kangmin boasted some of the best physicality in the K League—the idea of him being overpowered was hard to swallow.

"Yes, sir! And his shooting—he just rips it into the top corner like a laser! Second half, my pride got the better of me and I even started fouling to stop him, and I still got destroyed. Honestly, it was the first time in ages I've played with everything I had!"

"You sure it's not just your form being shot from the injury?"

"Oh, come on, sir!"

"Fine, fine. Let's say he really is that good. So what's this amazing friend's name and résumé? Which club's youth system is he from?"

"Well..."

Cha Kangmin hesitated for a moment.

"I don't know his name yet... and as for his background... according to him, he played on his middle school team. That's it. That's the whole career."

"...I'm sorry, what?"

Manager Kim let out a hollow, disbelieving laugh.

"Hey, Kangmin, are you messing with me? *Middle school?*"

"No, sir! I'm dead serious! That's exactly what he told me! I didn't believe it either!"

"Come on. Think about it yourself—does that even make sense? A guy who quit soccer after middle school has the kind of ability you just described? Is that actually possible?"

Outright disbelief saturated the manager's voice.

"That's what's so weird about it! Which is why—listen, sir."

Cha Kangmin lowered his voice and leaned in.

"What if... he's actually from an overseas youth academy, but he's hiding his career for some reason? You know, like he got into trouble over there, got suspended, and fled back to Korea... No matter how I think about it, there's no way a guy with only middle school experience could be that good!"

At Cha Kangmin's theory, Manager Kim seemed lost in thought for a moment. But soon he shook his head.

"I don't know... Could something like that stay hidden these days? Look how few of our scouts are even posted abroad. If he held Korean nationality, word would've spread ages ago. Anyway, going by your story, the pieces don't just fail to fit—they couldn't fit worse."

Cha Kangmin wouldn't back down.

"I know it doesn't add up! But I went up against him myself! Sir, I can't speak to anything else, but the shooting is real! He's a hundred times better than that crippled excuse for a mercenary we've got playing for us right now—Antonio, whatever his name is! If we had even one striker like that kid in our current situation...!"

Antonio. Signed with great fanfare on a massive salary, billed as a Brazilian league scoring standout, brought in to chase a K League 1 title this year.

But he had failed to adapt to the K League, and it had been a long time since he'd sunk into being nothing but the club's problem child.

His slump carried a hefty share of the blame for Suwon's fall toward the relegation zone.

Manager Kim heaved a deep sigh at Cha Kangmin's words.

"Kid, that Antonio fella came over having scored ten-plus goals in the Brazilian league last year. You know what he cost. You can't just compare them like—"

"If he was so good in Brazil, why does he have two—TWO—goals halfway through the K League season? And one of them's a penalty!"

Cha Kangmin cut him off, voice rising.

"And you know what he's like, sir! Half-asses every single training session, glued to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his phone studying Chinese all day! One look at the guy and you can tell he's just waiting to bolt for China the second the season ends! How does it make any sense to keep giving chances to someone like that? Give the unknown kid a shot instead—let him fail a test, whatever—I'm telling you, take a chance on him! I'll take responsibility!"

At the raw desperation in Cha Kangmin's plea, Manager Kim said nothing for a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠long moment, just studying him.

He found himself remembering the first time he'd ever met Cha Kangmin. More than ten years ago now.

Back when he was coaching Suwon's youth team, a fresh-faced Cha Kangmin had already shown extraordinary talent and leadership, going all the way back to his middle school days.

Has it really been over ten years since I first saw Kangmin... I've known him since my Suwon youth days, so it's got to be a good decade at least...

When we got relegated last year, too. Other clubs dangled bigger paychecks—even a massive offer came in from China. And the kid still signed his extension to stay with Suwon. Said he had to be the one to carry the team through hard times.

No one loves this club like he does...

Manager Kim's eyes wavered.

This was the team captain, its core player, a man who understood the club's dire situation better than anyone—and he was recommending a player this passionately. It wasn't something to simply brush aside. Besides, the manager's own frustration with Antonio had long since reached its breaking point.

...For a kid like that to speak up this hard. Well, what's there to lose, really.

Manager Kim gazed at Cha Kangmin with a complicated expression for a moment, then sighed, as if a decision had settled in his mind. Antonio was a ticking problem he'd have to cut loose sooner or later anyway.

"As it happens, I've been preparing to bring in a striker this summer transfer window."

"Sir? Who?"

"You know Kim Young-jun at Pohang? His contract expires at the end of this season, so I've been going back and forth with his agent about bringing him to us in the summer window. That's a proven asset. With Antonio and Kim Young-jun as our main duo, we'd be in far better shape than we are now."

Kim Young-jun was a deeply seasoned veteran striker of the K League. As an instant-impact signing, he was certainly the safe, stable card.

"Kim Young-jun? Well... that's... not bad, I suppose..."

A trace of disappointment crossed Cha Kangmin's face. Kim Young-jun was a fine player—but the impact of that nameless mercenary he'd seen yesterday was simply too overwhelming.

Catastrophic physicality and an explosive shot. What Suwon needed right now wasn't stability. It was one strike capable of flipping a match on its head.

The gaffer only thinks that because he hasn't seen the kid with his own eyes. Once he does, he'll change his tune...

"And about what you were telling me earlier, that—"

The moment Manager Kim tried to continue—

Bzzt-bzzt-bzzt— Bzzt-bzzt-bzzt—

The manager's phone and Cha Kangmin's phone began ringing violently at the same instant.

On top of that, the landline on the desk and an endless stream of KakaoTalk notification chimes filled the office.

"Huh? What the—what is this?"

"What's going on?"

Cha Kangmin and Manager Kim checked their phones simultaneously. Alongside the calls, group chat notifications were piling up like crazy.

Both of them knew at once: something very bad had happened.

Manager Kim answered first. The caller was the club's operations director.

"Ah, Director Park? What is it? Why all these calls all of a sudden—"

Before he could even finish, a frantic voice burst through the receiver.

It was so loud that even without speakerphone, Cha Kangmin, standing right beside him, caught every word.

Manager Kim's face drained white.

Drunk driving. Three street trees rammed. Fleeing the scene. Arrest by police.

Any one of those alone would have been a firestorm—and this was the triple crown of disasters. The worst possible scenario.

His head was already on the verge of exploding over the team's results, and now the expensive foreign mercenary they'd bought with a fortune had pulled off a massive scandal mid-season.

"Ah... my head..."

Manager Kim swayed, pressing against his throbbing temple.

Cha Kangmin, standing beside him, was equally struck speechless by the news.

While the manager reeled, Cha Kangmin stared down at his own phone with a blank expression.

The busiest notification pile-up of all was in the Suwon squad group chat.

A link to the Antonio article, followed by a flood of messages—and even an official notice from the front office.

The group chat had already descended into total chaos.

We're screwed.

Sure, Antonio barely scored—but whether a player like that was on the roster or off it made a world of difference.

Manager Kim barely managed a "Understood. Let me assess the situation and I'll ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠call you back," and hung up.

Silence settled over the office. The manager stared blankly into the air and let out a long, deep sigh.

And then, into that hollow in his mind, a name crept—the nameless striker Cha Kangmin had been raving about just minutes ago.

An absurd background—middle school, nothing more. And yet a striker Cha Kangmin swore was better than Antonio.

...Could it be?

Manager Kim slowly turned his head toward Cha Kangmin.

"Kangmin..."

Reading the room, Cha Kangmin answered obediently.

"Yes, sir."

"You said earlier... that morning soccer thing—you were filming it for YouTube, right?"

"Hm? Ah... yes, that's right, but..."

Cha Kangmin's face twisted in puzzlement at the question.

"Then... the match you played against that kid on Sunday. There's video of it, isn't there."

The look in Manager Kim's eyes had changed. A thread of hope, thin as silk, glimmered there.

"Go get me that footage... right now."

"······!"

Am I... supposed to be happy about this, or terrified?

Everything was moving far too fast.

But whatever else was true, the manager showing interest was a good sign.

Cha Kangmin quickly whipped out his phone and dialed his PD buddy.

"Hey! YAH! Send me the raw footage from Sunday's shoot right now! As fast as you can, move!"

Manager Kim watched him anxiously, his mind consumed by a single thought.

Please... please let Kangmin be right. Let him really be a maniac...