The Admin Account Blunder

Section Chief Yoon began trawling the internet, searching combinations like Kim Hanbin, football, and Bohyeon Middle School.

Just in case there was some other piece of information about Hanbin out there that he could dig up.

But all that came back were articles covering Hanbin's recent exploits in the K League.

Damn it... there's nothing here at all...

The moment Yoon was about to give up, an internet post happened to catch his eye.

It had a perfectly ordinary title — [Review of My Kid's Soccer Class ^^] — but the thumbnail image pulled his gaze right in.

Huh...?

Yoon clicked his mouse and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠enlarged the thumbnail.

Isn't that... Kim Hanbin?

Then he checked the name of the cafe where the image had been posted and frowned.

...The Gangseo District Mom Cafe?

What on earth was a Gangseo District Mom Cafe? There was no way he would have joined a place like that.

Did I sign up for this? Hmm... Ah — my wife?

Apparently his wife had used his account, which had been logged in on the home ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠computer, to join this mom cafe.

Anyway, that wasn't what mattered right now. Yoon read the post attached to the image.

In the photo attached to the post, a young man in a padded jumper stood smiling among a group of small children.

Checking the date, the post had gone up last winter.

And the young man's face — blurry, but unmistakably that of Kim Hanbin, the very player currently shaking up the K League.

Yet something was off. The face was clearly Hanbin's, but the body looked quite different from his current build.

Hidden though it was under the thick padding, his shoulders and overall frame seemed so ordinary that it was hard to believe this was the same Kim Hanbin of today.

Kim Hanbin... you little bastard... was it really doping and steroids?

Yoon's eyes narrowed.

It had been him, after all, who had strongly raised doping suspicions in the very first meeting, when he'd opposed Hanbin's recruitment.

Frankly, that had been a political maneuver to block Manager Park from the rival faction.

But looking at this photo, the thought that his suspicions might actually be true struck him with sudden force.

Was it even possible for a body to transform that much in just nine months?

More importantly... why has a photo like this never surfaced until now?

Yoon scrolled back up to check where the post had been uploaded once more. The Gangseo District Mom Cafe. An absurd source.

No wonder I couldn't find anything about his past no matter how hard I searched... Posts in these mom cafes are only visible to cafe members, so regular searches could never turn them up.

Yoon clicked his tongue inwardly.

Honestly, what were the odds that anyone working in football would be a member of the Gangseo District Mom Cafe?

Even Yoon himself had only stumbled across it by sheer fluke — his wife had used his account, logged in on the shared family computer, to join the cafe. What an absurd coincidence.

Yoon swiftly saved the photo to his own computer.

Then he immediately opened his messenger and sent the image file to his junior scout.

Yoon told his junior about a coffee shop outside the club grounds.

Before long, Section Chief Yoon was sitting across from Minjun, the junior scout who'd come to meet him, at a quiet coffee shop near the clubhouse.

Yoon held out his phone to Minjun. On the screen, Kim Hanbin's past photo and current photo were displayed side by side.

"Look. This is Kim Hanbin from last October, in the winter. And this is Kim Hanbin now. What do you see?"

Minjun looked back and forth between the two photos and furrowed his brow.

"Hmm... honestly, he's wearing padding so I can't tell for sure... I mean, of course your body improves when you train, but is a change this dramatic even possible in nine months??"

"That's exactly my point."

Yoon said, wearing a satisfied smile.

"Doesn't this feel like something, huh?"

Yoon took a sip of his coffee and asked Minjun:

"Hey, Minjun. What do you say we blow this thing up nice and big and set it off properly? There's no way that guy got like that without drugs. If we sink our teeth in and don't let go..."

Yoon's eyes gleamed.

He saw it as the perfect opportunity — a chance to drag Kim Hanbin, that thorn in his side, down into the abyss, while simultaneously landing a critical blow on Park Cheolmin, who had tried to bring that very player into the club.

But Minjun's reaction was unexpectedly cautious.

Minjun thought hard for a moment, then opened his mouth carefully.

"Sir... but... what if this turns out to be a wild swing and a miss?"

"A wild swing?"

"Yes. Of course, looking at that photo alone, I can't help but be suspicious too... but what if Hanbin really hasn't taken anything? This wouldn't just be raising suspicions — it would be publicly taking aim at another club's player. This is absolutely not the kind of thing you can shrug off with a 'take it or leave it'..."

Minjun paused again, murmured a brief hmm, and continued.

"To be completely honest with you, sir — the risk here is enormous. Of course, I know Kim Hanbin has put you in an awkward position. But... frankly, if we just let this slide, nothing really bad happens to us, does it? Missing one player is... it happens to scouts all the time. Everyone will have forgotten in a few years."

Minjun kept talking, carefully gauging his senior's expression.

"But if we blow this up, take a shot at another team's player over doping of all things, and it turns out to be false... at that point there's no controlling it. Our club's image, obviously — but the K League federation itself could issue us a formal warning."

Minjun drew in a long breath and went on.

"In the worst case, you or I could genuinely lose our livelihood in this industry... My honest opinion is that we should just let this one pass quietly, sir."

Minjun's words were eminently reasonable. The thinking was simple: don't poke a bruise, and get out gracefully.

"Hanbin would have gone through Suwon's standard medical tests and doping tests when he signed anyway, and Suwon hasn't said a word about him since — so maybe he really did just train like a madman for nine months? These days, if you look at those gym transformation photos floating around online, people change completely in six months..."

"Hmm... you're not wrong..."

Listening to Minjun, Yoon sank back into deep deliberation.

The kid was right. Hadn't his emotions run away with him, pushing him to act far too rashly?

Suwon wouldn't have signed a player without any verification whatsoever.

Right... Minjun's got a point. Honestly, this is far too risky. If I'm wrong... I really could lose everything.

Thoughts of Kim Hanbin and Manager Park must have temporarily short-circuited his reason.

His junior's advice was more than enough to cool Yoon's head.

After parting with Minjun at the coffee shop, Yoon returned to the office.

Blowing things up publicly was clearly far too risky.

Hmm... but still, letting this go just like that makes my blood boil...!

Sitting in his office chair, Yoon wrestled with the dilemma.

Was he really supposed to do nothing and watch Kim Hanbin succeed? Was he really supposed to just bow out quietly?

Then an idea flashed through his mind.

That's it...! I'll just dump this onto the internet communities!

He wouldn't step forward himself. He'd borrow the power of the internet.

If I throw a single photo into a community with a caption like [Hey, isn't this Kim Hanbin?], those people will tear it apart all on their own!

The moment the thought struck, Yoon planted himself in front of his computer.

And with practiced ease, he logged into the Seoul Citizen fan community — the Seoul Citizen Gallery.

It was a site he frequented anyway, since Yoon himself was one of the gallery's administrators.

Though today's visit wasn't about moderation.

Naturally, if you want to start a fire, you've got to drop the bait in the Seoul Citizen community first — Suwon Blue Sky's rivals.

Once the photo was posted there, the Seoul Citizen users would swarm over to the Suwon community galleries and start a war with that photo in hand — something like 'Your rookie's a doper!'

And even if it turned out, just as Minjun said, that Hanbin had never doped, this would be a community-originated salvo, so none of the backlash would come back to him.

Truly, pleasure without responsibility.

Yoon began writing the post at top speed.

It was perfect. Yoon cackled as he hit the submit button.

Beautiful... Now the internet will fight over that photo on its own, and the whole thing will grow all by itself. Kekeke.

Even by Yoon's own assessment, the material was flawless. A sudden, dramatic physical transformation in a rookie whose entire career record was a single middle school, paired with a monstrous showing right after his K League debut.

It was perfect kindling — anyone would be tempted to strike the match at least once.

Now all he had to do was sit back and watch the flames like a spectator at a bonfire.

Having posted to the Seoul Citizen fan community, Yoon rose from his seat with a satisfied smile.

As it happened, he had a business trip scheduled for the next few days to scout a youth tournament down in the provinces.

Feeling considerably lighter, he took the wheel and headed out of the city.

Kekeke... the internet must be in absolute chaos by now.

It was a route he traveled often, so he didn't even need the navigation. He'd been driving for a good while, humming to himself, when he crossed the highway tollgate and pulled into a nearby rest stop for a short break.

He picked up his phone, which he'd left face-down, and found the notification bar stuffed full.

"Hm?"

Dozens of missed call notifications filled the screen — nearly all of them from Minjun, his direct junior scout.

Looking closer, the phone was on silent mode. He must have switched it before going into the morning meeting and forgotten to flip it back.

"What's with this kid, blowing up my phone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like that?"

Yoon called Minjun back.

Before the ringtone had even sounded twice, Minjun picked up, his voice crackling through.

"Ah, Minjun. I had it on silent, so I missed everything. What's going on?"

"Ah, keke. Is that it? Is that Hanbin bastard's post already burning up like that? Like I said, nobody could look at that and not be suspicious."

"...What?"

Yoon's brain froze. Admin account? Log out?

"Ah..."

The phone slipped limply from Yoon's hand and tumbled onto the asphalt.

He'd thought he was posting anonymously... he'd forgotten to log out of the admin account? How could anyone make a mistake like that...

With trembling hands, he picked the phone back up off the ground.

And Minjun's voice kept pouring out.

"I'm screwed."