Chapter 19
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: If You Pull at Your Eyes, Park Si-hyun Will Come (2)
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The eye-pulling gesture.
It was the epitome of low-class racial discrimination, the kind Europeans commonly used to mock East Asians for having small eyes.
The funny thing was, they made the same gesture even to people whose eyes were bigger than theirs.
One thing was for sure—my eyes were way bigger than Marco's.
'What an idiot.'
Forcing his narrow little eyes wide open to sneer like that. But looking at the moron only ignited my competitive fire even more.
Son Heung-min had said he struggled a lot with racism when he first came to Germany.
Not just him—all the Asian players who came to Europe had faced massive discrimination.
From their own teammates, and from opponents too.
Thankfully, Asia had Son Heung-min.
Despite countless acts of racism and prejudice, he bulldozed through every barrier with pure skill, conquering European soccer.
With gentlemanly poise and cold precision, speaking only through goals and assists until he became Tottenham's star and earned world-class recognition from every European.
His lone existence paved the way for other Asian players to knock on Europe's door.
'Though back in Korea, the world-class debate never ends.'
Either way, just like Son blazed the trail, if I pave the way first, talented players like him could thrive more comfortably in European soccer.
Of course, Son did it the gentlemanly way.
I'm planning... a slightly different approach.
'I'll show them exactly what happens when you mess with East Asians. And I won't be as gentlemanly as Son.'
I grinned broadly at the back of his head as he walked away.1
'Do you know Eul-yong-ta? Or not.'
It's still 2001, so probably not.
Eul-yong-ta was a meme born from something Lee Eul-yong did during the 2003 East Asian Cup against China.
'Then I guess it's time for Si-hyun-ta.'
[The players are coming out! Rot-Weiss Essen vs. SV Waldhof Mannheim—what's your take?]
[Rot-Weiss Essen is definitely a solid team. Balanced across the board, you might say. But that also means no glaring weaknesses... or standout strengths. They're average. On the other hand, SV Waldhof Mannheim is known for their rock-solid defense in the 2. Bundesliga—even if they got relegated last season with their worst performance ever.]
[Yes, but they've brought in a new manager and are confident about promotion this season. Their backline, centered around veteran Marco Schneider, is still plenty threatening.]
[The key to this match is whether Essen's prospect... self-proclaimed world's best, Park Si-hyun... can break through Mannheim's defense that held up even in the 2. Bundesliga.]
["Haha, he's probably the only player who's gotten this famous before even making his debut. But Essen's supporters are split. Distrust toward an Eastern player with no pro experience."]
In reality, harsh jeers were pouring from the stands—and not from the opponents, but from Essen's own supporters.
"Boo! Easterner, go back to your country!"
"Essen isn't a team for some Easterner to play on!"
In truth, half the crowd had come out of curiosity to see how good he really was, while the other half was there to vent their anger and frustration over the team shelling out big money for an Easterner with no pro track record.
"Let's see what you've got!"
"Try scoring a goal! Not that an Easterner could ever score!"
In one corner of the stands, Essen's hardcore supporters held up a placard.
[German Soccer Belongs to Germans]
Their cold glares zeroed in on Park Si-hyun, but he calmly stretched and warmed up in the time remaining.
They'd spew racism like that now, but the moment he scored, they'd flip their attitudes like it never happened.
'And that moment won't be far off.'
Beep!
Finally, my first match since regressing—my debut in Germany—kicked off.
Essen usually favored a 4-4-2 formation.
Straightforward, simple soccer built around Michael Waltz's quick feet and precise crosses, paired with Werner Klein's powerful headers.
Classic German power play.
But after I joined, the tactic shifted to 4-3-2-1.
Michael Waltz still handled speed and crosses from the right wing, while Werner Klein moved up a line as second striker, creating space for me.
[Essen kicks off. Park Si-hyun passes it back and—whoa! He bolts forward right away!]
I gave the ball lightly to Christoph, then exploded into a sprint. Michael and Werner followed, dragging the defenders.
'One minute in—the moment players are most off-guard.'
They had no idea who I, Park Si-hyun, really was yet.
They probably saw me as just some debutant prospect.
No real preparation or scouting done.
That's how people learn—through hard experience.
'Time to hit 'em hard.'
Christoph lofted an early cross to Michael.
Seeing it, I ramped up my speed and charged straight ahead.
As I reached the penalty box, Mannheim defenders rushed me. But instead of dodging, I collided head-on and powered through.
"Gah!"
One, two.
The defenders crumpled helplessly in the physical battle, and Michael's cross flew in between them.
'An average player would've headed it. A world-class one, volleyed it.'
But me... I'm Park Si-hyun.
I don't celebrate debut goals with ordinary shots. That's not Park Si-hyun style.
If I'm scoring the first one, it has to be unforgettable.
So Park Si-hyun leaped. No—he flew.
His head dipped toward the ground instead of the sky, legs whipping sharply in mid-air.
BOOM!
CLANG!!!
The net screamed as if it might tear, but the stadium fell into stunned silence.
In that hush, Park Si-hyun strode confidently toward the fans.
Yet they couldn't cheer—the memory of their pre-game jeers at an "Easterner" held them back.
As if sensing it, Park Si-hyun bent down like he was picking something up from the ground, then placed it atop his head.
The fans instantly got it from that careful motion with both hands.
A crown.
That's what he was saying.
Forget that crap from before—start praising Essen's king right now.
In that instant.
"WOOOOOOAAAAAHHHH!!!!!"
Potsipalais Stadium exploded.
"King! King! King! King! King!"
[GOOOOOOAL—!!!! Wow, what a stunner! In the 80th minute, Park Si-hyun smashes through Mannheim's defense again with a thunderbolt shot, widening the score! The match is now 3-0, and Park Si-hyun completes a hat-trick in his debut!]
[He was like a tank! A tank that runs at jet speed! Marco isn't slow by any means, but even starting first, Park Si-hyun got to the ball first!]
[And the confidence to just smash it without hesitation! The skill to actually bury it! That interview at his signing ceremony might not have been bluff—he's demolishing Mannheim's defenders!]
"Damn it!!!"
Marco cursed, unable to believe the situation.
'Why the hell can't we stop him?!'
This one Easterner was dominating the entire match.
Something that never should've happened, in Marco's mind.
'An Easterner... how dare an Easterner... retarded monkeys!'
As a veteran center-back—as a superior German—his pride was shattered.
His defense, which had held firm even in 2. Bundesliga, was being utterly neutralized by some Eastern prospect playing in the third division.
In the end, he did what he shouldn't have.
As Park Si-hyun surged past him, he lunged with a studs-up tackle.
Every player knew the truth.
One knee or ankle injury could end a career.
But he ignored every warning against this Park Si-hyun.
Thwack!
Marco's foot nailed Park Si-hyun's ankle dead-on.
Tweeet!
The ref's whistle pierced sharply as he rushed over.
'Heh... what can you do now, you freakish monkey?'
The red card waved in his face, but Marco felt smug.
Satisfaction as a German "educating" an Easterner.
But the moment he saw Essen's players rushing over, his expression changed.
Unlike his smirk, their faces weren't angry... they were laced with fear.
'What... why do they look scared?'
And their lips were moving.
R... Run...?
That scene—that was the last sight Marco witnessed that day.
Crack!