Prologue: Regression
I was a lazy genius.
A flower that possessed the greatest talent yet never put in the effort, and so withered past its blooming season.
And so I always regretted it. I should have listened to the coach’s nagging about joining training. I should have taken the manager’s advice to try appearing on even a single broadcast program.
Raised by a sports-agent father and a model mother, I never struggled for a living, yet I always regretted—and had wished for it my entire life.
That if I could go back to those days, I would give it my absolute best. That I would no longer be a leech of a son sucking the lifeblood from my parents, but a filial child who spoiled them with money I earned myself.
That day, as always, I drank on my parents’ money and fell straight asleep.
Not long after, I was forcibly woken by a rough hand grabbing and shaking my shoulder.
“You’ve got some nerve sleeping even on the bench? You’re subbing in.”
The moment those words were spoken, the scene that unfolded before me was of players sprinting across the green grass pitch, men in fluorescent bibs sitting side by side, and a middle-aged man dressed in a suit.
The astonishing part was that they were all people I knew—my high-school football club seniors and friends, and the coach.
Which means…
Far in the distance, the letters and numbers on the electronic scoreboard told me exactly what situation this was.
Baekhwa High v Changrim High
1 : 3
Baekhwa High was the high school I had attended, and Changrim High was…
Our opponent in the round of 16 of the National High School Football Tournament…
It seemed the gods had granted my wish after all.