Chapter 18
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Pull the Eyes, and Park Si-hyun Comes Visiting
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No way, when the hell are we gonna see the striker we shelled out 2,000 Euros a week for?
What if... they scouted him, saw him play, and realized he sucks?
Nah. My buddy works at the club—he says that Asian guy's already sorted out the team hierarchy.
What? An Asian guy establishing hierarchy in Germany? He didn't get beat up for it?
Saw his signing photo... guy's built like a tank. No joke.
Then why hasn't he played a single preseason game?
Great at fighting, but can't adapt to the team?
Rot-Weiss Essen fans were seething with frustration.
They'd poured a fortune into bringing this hot prospect over like royalty, only for him to not even cast a shadow on the pitch all summer long.
But the very Park Si-hyun they'd been griping about was, right now, more embedded in the team than anyone else.
Or rather...
Embedded so deeply that he might as well have been the captain.
"Run harder, you animals! How do we lose to last season's 14th place? At least 13th should beat 14th, right? Even without me!"
Lately, the Essen training ground echoed with roars every single day.
The coach's voice?
Hell no.
It was the voice of the club's rookie—the seventeen-year-old kid who hadn't even debuted yet.
Park Si-hyun himself.
And yet, strangely, no one found his behavior off-putting.
They just...
"Si-hyun's at it again."
"Don't poke the bear, or you'll get an hour of Park Si-hyun Style. You know how terrifying that is?"
"How could I not? Last time I said he'd get hurt if he kept it up, guess what he told me?"
"What?"
"Better worry about the ground cracking from an earthquake than Si-hyun getting hurt."
"...For real?"
"Dead serious face too."
"...Wild. Are all Asians like that?"
...resigned themselves to it.
Complete with the misconception that all Asians must be like that.
Of course, it hadn't always been this way.
Vice-captain Andreas Hermann—the prankster known for his antics—had once challenged Park Si-hyun during training.
"Hey, Si-hyun. Everyone knows you're good. Can you just chill out?"
In that instant, Park Si-hyun's eyes turned ice cold.
The result?
Crossbar SHATTERED by sheer power!
Park Si-hyun's thunderbolt shot rocketed like a cannonball, smashing the crossbar.
The impact shook the goalposts like an earthquake, and even Matthias Kühler—Essen's captain, nicknamed the "Stone Buddha" for his stoic face—
"Eek!"
let out a shriek like a startled girl.
Andreas Hermann froze on the spot, while the other players gawked back and forth between Park Si-hyun and the goal, mouths agape.
Park Si-hyun casually rolled a new ball with his foot and strolled over to Andreas.
"Andreas, you want me to be quiet?"
"Uh... no... I mean..."
"Give me one good reason."
His voice was calm, but the pressure radiating from it was beyond imagination.
"None... sir."
"Then from now on, hustle. Got it?"
"Yes... yes!"
Park Si-hyun nodded, satisfied.
"Good. Let's keep going."
Rumor has it some players still had nightmares of balls flying at them after that day.
"Whew... I still get chills thinking about it."
"Don't remind me. My heart's racing just now."
As everyone recalled that day and trained harder, assistant coach Stefan blew his whistle and gathered them.
"Great work, everyone! This season's looking promising!"
Stefan flashed a thumbs-up in encouragement, but the players just gave awkward smiles.
They trained hard as pros, sure—but pushing to the brink like this? All because of Park Si-hyun.
"Oh, Si-hyun! Coach wants a word. Come with me."
"Sure."
Park Si-hyun nodded and followed Stefan.
The moment he was out of sight...
"He's gone! He's gone!"
"Finally, some relief!"
The players collapsed in unison, sighing with relief.
"Man, I can breathe again."
"Air's fresher without Park Si-hyun."
"Yeah, lungs feel lighter."
But moments later, Werner spoke up cautiously.
"But... we gotta keep living like this forever, huh..."
The training ground fell silent.
Meanwhile, Park Si-hyun, following Stefan...
"You've got something to look forward to, Si-hyun."
Stefan grinned meaningfully.
"What is it?"
"What else? The opener, obviously. You know the coach didn't bench you in preseason out of doubt."
"Of course. Weapons get stronger the longer you hide 'em."
Stefan burst out laughing at Park Si-hyun's confident reply.
"Hahaha! That's the spirit!"
As they headed to the clubhouse, Stefan pointed at a figure in the distance.
"Ah, there's the coach. Coach! Brought Si-hyun!"
Frank Kurt silently pulled a sheet from his pocket.
It was the lineup for the opener—and Park Si-hyun's name was boldly listed at striker.
"I'm gonna let all of Germany know a monster's here. You aren't nervous, are you?"
Park Si-hyun shook his head at the coach's question.
"Nervous? No chance."
The corner of his mouth twitched up.
"After the opener, fans will praise Essen for snagging Park Si-hyun at 2,000 Euros a week."
On opening day for the 3rd division, a decent crowd gathered at Rot-Weiss Essen's home, Potsipalais Stadium, for the clash against SV Waldhof Mannheim.
The 20,000-seat venue hadn't seen this many in ages—over 1,300 filled up.
Last season's peak was 1,000, and finishing 13th meant the finale had barely 300.
It was proof of how curious Essen fans were about Park Si-hyun.
1,300 might sound low for 20,000 seats, but most 3rd division teams averaged 500-800. For a city with Bundesliga's FC Schalke 04, it was impressive.
Not many cared about a 3rd division side amid that.
"Si-hyun, what're you looking at?"
Christoph Bauer—someone I'd warmed up to since that first training—spoke from the bench.
"The fans about to cheer a legend into existence."
Christoph cracked up at my answer.
"Hahaha, classic Si-hyun. Always so confident. Jealous."
I looked at him quietly and said,
"Soccer players need confidence in their skills. Lose it, and even your talent halves."
If I hadn't lost mine as a striker pre-regression and switched positions, I probably wouldn't be playing soccer again now.
Who'd want a job training all day, winning every game, feeling gutted on losses—and getting hate from everyone?
'Total black company.'
But regret kept me in the game.
"Christoph, you're starting. Own it like it's natural. Coach picked you for a reason."
So don't regret like me. Shine your talent.
And be my goal shuttle.
"Doubt yourself, and you've already lost. Be certain. Today, on this pitch, you'll be the best—oh, sorry. Slip of the tongue. You'll be second best."
"Haha, first is obviously Si-hyun, right?"
Obviously. Why state the obvious?
Like the sun rising mornings, moon at night, or Park Si-hyun scoring.
I just nodded silently.
"Thanks, Si-hyun. I'll show Essen's fans what I can do today. With confidence!"
Christoph bounded off toward the pitch with pep.
I watched his back, thinking,
'He better not hog shots and try scoring himself instead of passing...'
SV Waldhof Mannheim had a miserable relegation from 2nd Bundesliga in 2000-01, scraping just 32 points for 17th.
8 wins, 8 draws, 18 losses over 34 games left an indelible scar on fans and a permanent stain on the club's reputation.
Once a solid mid-table 2nd division side with pride, everything changed.
Protests raged daily outside the offices; players endured icy glares on the streets.
The future looked bleak, morale in the gutter.
Especially for star center-back Marco Schneider, seething with discontent.
At 26, he'd probed transfers multiple times, but the club held him with contract excuses.
"Fuck, how long do I rot in this shithole?"
Marco muttered in the locker room.
Sure, contractually stuck.
Four years left.
But he refused to waste more time here.
A guy like him—German youth international, Bundesliga debut—rotting in 3rd division? An insult to share the fate of this fallen club.
As he headed to the tunnel for the opener, grumbling, an Asian-looking player caught his eye.
'Ugh, Asian's tall for once.'
Instinctive disgust hit Marco.
Asians had no place thriving in European soccer—that was his firm belief.
In 2001 German soccer, racism wasn't a big deal.
It was commonplace; many players and fans shrugged it off.
Marco Schneider was a die-hard racist.
Raised on "Germany for Germans," an Asian stepping into German soccer was a thorn in his eye.
Then the Asian turned and looked his way.
Marco smirked, pulled the eye-corner gesture, and sneered,
"Yellow monkey! Go back to your country—this is Germany!"
His German echoed in the tunnel.
With that, Marco bolted.
So he didn't see.
The pitying stares from Essen's players... or Park Si-hyun grinning broadly at the back of his head.