Blue Blood
Once the whirlwind of the deal had settled, Manager Kim told me to come to the Suwon clubhouse the next morning.
It was for the official procedures — the medical tests and the drafting of the formal contract.
"Then I'll contact you at the main gate tomorrow. I'll send someone out, or come myself."
"Yes, sir! Understood!"
Manager Kim and Cha Kangmin were busy men, so without further delay they got in their car and drove off.
Left alone in front of the café, I stared for a long while in the direction they'd disappeared.
So it's real... I'm a Suwon player now?
I pulled the napkin out of my pocket.
The makeshift contract we'd scribbled down, just for fun, imitating Messi signing his Barcelona deal on a napkin. An annual salary of 70 million won. Medical support from Taeseong General Hospital. And above all, the chance to play on the K League 1 stage.
It wasn't an official contract, but it felt precious all the same.
Which meant there was still business left to handle.
Taking a deep breath, I took out my phone, found a certain number, and dialed.
Ring... ring...
After a few tones, a voice answered.
"Hello, is this Kim Hanbin?"
"Yes, Section Chief Park. It's me. I'm sorry about earlier — I was in the middle of a conversation with some other people."
"No, no, it's fine. I was calling to see whether you'd come to a decision."
There was a thread of hope woven into Park's voice.
I hesitated for a moment, but decided honesty was the courteous thing to do.
"Chief... I'm afraid I have to apologize first."
"...Yes?"
"I... don't think I'll be able to go through with the contract with Seoul Citizen."
A short silence crossed the line. It must have been an outcome Park hadn't anticipated either.
"...Hanbin, may I ask why? Were the terms we offered really that lacking?"
"Not at all! The conditions you offered were more than I deserved, honestly. I was genuinely grateful just to be given the chance. It's just that..."
I chose my words carefully.
"Another team made me an offer that... suited my situation a little better, I suppose. So I've decided to go with them."
At the words another team, the line went quiet for a while. A few seconds later, Park spoke again.
"...Another team, hm. I got complacent, didn't I. Of course other clubs weren't going to sit still over a talent like you."
"I'm sorry."
Self-reproach and regret bled through the man's voice. But he shook it off almost briskly.
"Don't be. Hanbin, you have nothing to feel sorry about. If anything, I'm the one who should apologize for not offering you better terms. Wherever you go, I'll sincerely be rooting for your success. Let's meet again on the pitch someday — in fine form, both of us."
"...Chief, thank you. Truly."
It was a warm ending. We wouldn't be working together after all, but I was grateful for the sincerity of a man who had seen my worth and tried to give me a chance.
The moment I hung up with Park, I dialed the next number. This time it was Foreman Choi.
"Oh! Hanbin! What brings ya callin'?"
"Foreman, it's Hanbin. Well, the thing is... there's something I need to tell you."
"Foreman... you went through all the trouble of introducing me to that scout, and... I'm real sorry. It looks like I'll be signing with a team other than Seoul Citizen."
"Wait, what? Another team? Ah, ya idjit! Why're ya apologizin' over somethin' like that! Hanbin, it's your life, boy! 'Course you oughta go where the better terms and the better team are! So which team'd ya sign with?"
"Ah... well, it's Suwon Blue Sky."
"Suwon? Heh, that's a storied club too, idjit! Well now, that's great! Real great!"
"So, Foreman... I'm truly sorry, but I probably won't be able to come to work starting tomorrow. There are things I need to take care of before joining the team."
"Got it, got it! Don't ya worry about a thing! Ya worked yer tail off doin' all the dirty jobs on our crew alone — ya earned this!"
"Yes... thank you for everything, Foreman. Really."
"Enough of that, ya rascal! none of that now! When ya make it big, ya call me! And ya buy me a proper bottle of soju! Got it?"
"Yes, sir! I'll call, I promise! Thank you so much!"
That call, too, ended on a good note.
And now everything was truly settled. As for telling my parents the news...
The napkin contract flashed through my mind.
No — I'll make the official signing tomorrow, and bring the real contract home to them.
The Seoul Citizen clubhouse I'd visited for my test had sat in a quiet spot on the outskirts of the city, but Suwon Blue Sky's clubhouse was a different animal altogether.
So this is the Suwon Blue Sky clubhouse.
A grand yet sleek building exterior, surrounded by immaculately kept landscaping. Directly behind it, the towers of Taeseong Group affiliates rose in a row.
Hanbin let out an involuntary gasp of admiration.
So this is the power of Korea's number one company, the Taeseong Group.
He could practically feel the formidable capital of the parent company in the air.
As Hanbin glanced around, a familiar figure came walking out from the clubhouse's main gate. It was Manager Kim Seongcheol.
"Right on time. You didn't get lost finding the place?"
Manager Kim waved cheerfully and asked. Hanbin gave a polite bow in answer.
"No, sir! I told the taxi driver where I was headed and he dropped me right at the front. I suppose that's what you'd expect from Suwon Blue Sky, owned by Korea's number one company, the Taeseong Group!"
Caught off guard by Hanbin's unprompted praise of the Taeseong Group, Manager Kim momentarily fumbled his words.
"Uh... ahh... right... well, yes, I suppose..."
Clearing his throat, Manager Kim ushered Kim Hanbin inside the clubhouse.
Stepping into the lobby, they found Cha Kangmin from yesterday's café, a middle-aged man in a crisp suit, and the coaching staff in team jackets, all waiting for them.
"Now then, say hello. This is our General Manager, Lee Sang-ho, and these are our coaches."
At Manager Kim's introduction, Kim Hanbin bent at the waist in a full ninety-degree bow.
"It's an honor! Kim Hanbin!"
General Manager Lee Sang-ho smiled and extended a handshake.
"A pleasure, Kim Hanbin. I've heard a great deal about you. Welcome to our team."
"General Manager! Thank you so much for the chance to become part of Suwon Blue Sky, the sports club of Korea's number one company, the Taeseong Group! I'll pour my bones into this team from here on out!"
At yet another round of Taeseong Group praise and exaggerated vows of loyalty, the General Manager, much like Manager Kim before him, wore a briefly bewildered expression.
"Oh, oh my... thank you, I hadn't quite expected such devotion..."
Cha Kangmin, who'd been watching the whole spectacle from the side, couldn't hold back his laughter and thumped Hanbin in the ribs.
"Hey, Kim Hanbin! What's with all the theatrics? Weren't you a die-hard Seoul Citizen fan yesterday? Since when were you a Suwon supporter, huh?"
Unfazed by the teasing, Hanbin answered with an utterly straight face.
"I have washed my hands of those villainous Seoul devils forever. The moment I met Manager Kim and you, hyung, yesterday, I realized the truth: blue blood runs in my veins! I have been reborn as a player of Suwon Blue Sky!"
At Hanbin's deranged answer, low chuckles rippled through the surrounding coaches. The stiff atmosphere softened considerably.
That kid... he's no ordinary rookie.
Manager Kim and the General Manager both chuckled awkwardly and shook their heads.
With the introductions out of the way, Kim Hanbin was immediately put through the medical and doping test procedures.
The results of the medical exam conducted at the club's designated hospital were astonishing. Every physical metric was in peak condition, and the exam even noted that his growth plates had not yet fully closed, meaning he might still grow taller.
"Wait... he's still growing at that age?"
"The kid's only nineteen, you know."
"Come to think of it, they do say you keep growing in the army."
"How tall did Hanbin say he was? 187? Wow, how big would he get if he keeps going?"
The club officials reviewing the results murmured among themselves.
"The muscle mass, the bone density... this is practically the textbook specimen of a perfect athlete. Have you been on some kind of special training regimen?"
Even the doctor administering the test asked to double-check.
Faced with the question, all Kim Hanbin could do was deflect. "I just... exercised pretty hard, I suppose."
After completing the sample collection for the doping test as well, Hanbin returned to the clubhouse and began the basic fitness assessments.
In the Yo-Yo Intermittent Recovery Test, which measures cardiovascular endurance, he breezed past his previous mark without a hint of fatigue, and in the agility tests — the 10-meter sprint, the 30-, 40-, and 50-meter dashes — he rewrote the club's all-time records one after another.
Exclamations poured from the mouths of the coaching staff who watched it all unfold.
"Wow... he's a genuine monster. A monster."
"That speed and that stamina, out of that body? That shouldn't be possible..."
Next came the dribbling test — the basic drill of weaving in and out of cones.
So the fitness is confirmed... now, what about the technique?
Manager Kim, the coaching staff, and even the General Manager held their breath and watched Hanbin's footwork.
No matter how fast or fit a player was, football was not a marathon or a track event. Whether or not you could carry the ball made all the difference in the world. And the prevailing assumption was that a body that massive would make his dribbling clunky and rough.
But Kim Hanbin laughed in the face of every expectation.
His huge frame moved with a lightness and fluidity that seemed impossible. He handled the ball as if it were an extension of his foot. There was no wasted motion as he threaded through the cones, his center of gravity rock-steady, and he changed direction without shedding a shred of his acceleration. It was enough to draw open admiration.
"Wow... that's even possible? That kind of silky ball control on a body like that?"
"His balance is unreal. This kid knows exactly how to use his body."
Gasps of wonder burst out among the coaches.
His fundamentals... are even more solid than I imagined. That's not something talent alone can explain. That's the product of monstrous repetition.
Manager Kim clicked his tongue inwardly.
"Right, then. Last of all, let's have a look at your shooting."
And so the final test was prepared: the shooting assessment.
Kim Hanbin stepped up to the ball. First up — a right-footed strike.
PAANG—!
The ball sailed in a beautiful arc and smashed into the top right corner of the goal.
"Ooh, nice~"
Admiring murmurs escaped the onlookers.
I should make a bigger impression here.
I took ten shots per foot at Seoul's test, so let's make it twenty this time.
Kim Hanbin then proceeded to plant twenty right-footed shots and twenty left-footed shots as if they'd been copied and pasted, every single one striking the exact same spot in the top corner of the goal.
Forty perfectly identical strikes from both feet.
At one hundred percent shooting accuracy, everyone watching the test was left speechless. Even the most elite finishers in the world miss a few — but this kind of precision?
A brief silence settled over the training ground.
"...... He's insane."
Someone muttered it under their breath, and everyone nodded as if in agreement.
In the tests that followed — shots after dribbling, shots off crosses, shots from combination play — Kim Hanbin displayed overwhelming decisiveness. His powerful, precise strikes hunting down the corners of the goal were more than enough to make spectators marvel.
General Manager Lee Sang-ho, who had watched the entire test with a stern expression, walked over to Manager Kim Seongcheol and spoke quietly. The man who had worn such a cautious look right up until the testing began was now beaming from ear to ear.
"Manager Kim."
"Yes, General Manager?"
"Honestly? When you first reported that you wanted to sign a complete rookie with no professional record for seventy million won, I wondered if I'd misjudged you. Haha."
The General Manager gave an embarrassed laugh and continued.
"No matter how urgent the situation, the terms struck me as far too radical. I worried about backlash from within the squad, too. But..."
He glanced at Hanbin, who was catching his breath across the pitch.
"...a talent like that? Seventy million suddenly feels like a bargain... Truly remarkable. Manager Kim, you've pulled off something enormous this time. Well done."
At the General Manager's heartfelt praise and acknowledgment, a smile finally spread across Manager Kim's face. His biggest worry — the GM's approval — had been won.
Cha Kangmin, who'd been eavesdropping on the two men, seized his moment and butted in.
"Kuh-hah! I told you I wasn't wrong, didn't I, Manager? General Manager! I said from the very start that kid was no ordinary rookie! Kahahaha!"
Manager Kim burst into a wry laugh at the sight of him, but his mood was far from bad.
"Yes, yes, your credit's plenty big. A real sharp one, you are."
Whether it was praise or mockery, Cha Kangmin just kept cackling his kahahaha all the same. In any case, with the player he'd personally recommended displaying this kind of talent, his shoulders had every right to swell.
The General Manager looked around at Manager Kim and the coaches and went on.
"Manager Kim, with ability like that... how about we throw him straight into this weekend's home match against Gangwon Ocean FC?"
"I'm sorry — this weekend?"
At the General Manager's radical proposal, Manager Kim and the coaching staff all wore startled expressions.
But beside them, Cha Kangmin's eyes lit up.
"Ohh! General Manager! That's a great idea! Because this Sunday's my comeback match from injury — Hanbin's debut would land right on top of it!"
Cha Kangmin bubbled with excitement as if it were his own celebration.
Manager Kim hesitated for a moment. Throwing a brand-new rookie — one with no professional record at all — straight into a K League 1 debut was a massive gamble.
But... the team's current situation could hardly be solved by conventional means. The vacancy left by the mercenary striker Antonio. The pressure of the relegation zone. A radical decision like this might just prove to be the breakthrough they needed.
And above all, the ability Kim Hanbin had shown today looked worth the risk.
...All right. Let's put some faith in him.
Manager Kim nodded, his mind made up at last.
"Yes. Let's give it a shot this Sunday."