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# Chapter 1. Juwon
Choco Pies were really sweet.
One when he took the field, and one more when he scored a goal.
The coach always laughed heartily as he handed out snacks.
Was he addicted to the sense of accomplishment he had experienced for the first time in his life? Or had he simply become intoxicated by the sweetness of Choco Pies?
Without even noticing the dirt and dust getting into his mouth, he ran around the field with his friends.
As an elementary school student, Juwon enjoyed kicking a ball.
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Perhaps he had stood out a little in the neighborhood.
Juwon received an offer from a nearby middle school soccer team to attend their school.
Maybe it had something to do with his connection to Choco Pies. The snack kept in the middle school soccer team's locker room was always the same kind.
After practice, he would eat one on the spot, then, after looking around cautiously, slip another into his pocket before heading home.
At the orphanage, whenever delicious snacks came out, the older boys would take them away from him.
Soccer, which filled his empty stomach, was a magic that brought happiness to Juwon.
When he moved up to his second year, the coach changed.
"This place is short on soccer team operating expenses, huh? We'll have to increase the individual contribution."
The selection criteria of the new coach, who had made his entrance with nothing but bullshit, were clear.
Bribes.
Juwon rummaged through his shabby pockets for no reason, but the only thing that came out was a worn-out 1,000-won bill the orphanage director had given him.
Afterward, once the coach learned that Juwon came from an orphanage, he naturally began to ignore him.
It would have been fortunate if only the coach had acted that way, but even the boys competing against him started picking on him.
"Hey, hey, what are you gonna do now that there's no one to buy you Choco Pies?"
"Tell your parents to buy them for you. Ah! You don't have any! Sorry! Puhahaha."
Judging by the fact that they had chosen insults about his parents as the weapon to hurt Juwon, apparently having no parents was a pretty big deal in their eyes.
At the orphanage, parent jokes had long since become one of the most outdated forms of self-deprecating humor.
So he thought it wouldn't bother him.
But just as a bald comedian might accept being bald and use it as material for his own jokes, yet still feel annoyed when someone else made fun of him for it.
He learned the truth that just because human beings are accustomed to something doesn't mean it cannot make them angry.
What would be the best revenge against them?
Juwon thought about it, and from that moment on, he focused even more on practice matches and played with complete seriousness.
It was as if he were saying with his entire body,
"If you want to win, use me instead of those idiots!"
One goal, two goals, three goals, four goals. His bombardment continued in every practice match.
By the time he reached his third year of middle school, the coach began using Juwon.
It wasn't some dramatic story where he finally earned recognition through his skill and got to play in matches.
"Juwon! You pass only to Lee Seungwon, understand? Even if you get a one-on-one chance, you pass. Keep that in mind!"
The coach had selected Juwon as the high school entrance broker for the bribery-powered striker.
It was filthy, but he compromised with reality. As long as he could get onto the field, it didn't matter whether he played as a midfielder or a defender.
He gave his all to distribute passes. Juwon's dribbling, which had once neutralized opposing defenders, turned into desperate struggles to escape pressure in the center, while the leg that had once swung powerfully toward the goal became more concise and precise for passing.
Around that time, the Choco Pies that had always been kept in the soccer team's locker room were replaced by a strange snack that looked like a hard wafer.
According to the coach, it was definitely more expensive and delicious, but strangely, to Juwon's palate it tasted drier and cheaper, and it wasn't as delicious as it had been back then.
After that, he stopped taking snacks home altogether.
Time passed.
Lee Seungwon, true to his name as a bribery-powered striker, turned out to be fairly good not only at giving things to others but also at receiving them.
Thanks to that, Juwon was able to rack up many assists and successfully advance to a high school soccer team.
The only downside was that he had to enter the school together with Lee Seungwon.
"Juwon, was it? I really liked the way you played. Your ability to escape pressure and your wide field of vision will be a great help in the midfield battle."
Juwon preferred playing as a forward, but the coach, unaware of what had happened to him in middle school, had reached that assessment.
If the coach said so, then perhaps it could be true.
Juwon decided to think that way.
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.
.
After entering high school, the difference in the players' physiques became striking.
There were players over 180 centimeters tall, and most of them seemed to be at least 170 centimeters.
Compared to them, Juwon was only in the low 160s.
He had been naturally small in stature, and combined with inadequate nutrition, his growth had come to a halt.
His brain gave him commands to do this and that, but there were limits to the movements he could perform with his inadequate physical abilities.
"If only my legs were a little longer. If only I were stronger. If only I had better stamina."
He could do better.
As he watched the monsters around him grow taller by the day, he had no choice but to study his own strengths.
He lowered his center of gravity even further and practiced flashy dribbling, and because he needed to move one step faster than everyone else, he worked hard to broaden his field of vision.
Even in the midst of all that, the walls of reality continued closing in around Juwon.
High school soccer required more money than middle school soccer. Since the orphanage could not provide more than the monthly fee, Juwon worked part-time while training.
Even that was only enough to cover personal equipment. Tournament expenses, training camps, away training, and the like were completely impossible.
Since he couldn't fully participate in training and was physically inferior to his teammates, the coach did not select him during the early days.
In truth, though, Juwon wasn't overly worried.
Because now he knew.
Perhaps God was fair after all, because He had given him talent.
He had confidence that this talent and his efforts could cover up his miserable circumstances and swallow them whole.
During practice matches, he raced around the field like a madman. He toyed with players who were much bigger than him as if to show them.
"Look. Physique means nothing! I can win!"
They say professionals speak through results.
No matter how sturdy a pocket is, if you run around with an awl inside it, it is bound to stick out eventually.
Juwon overcame another trial, and during the second half of his first year, he was able to become a starter.
In the process, he had to endure the jealousy and envy of his teammates.
From their perspective, it must have been irritating to see Juwon, who didn't even participate properly in training, take a starting position.
Compared to their true teammates, who had gone on training camps and stayed together in dormitories, Juwon was practically an outsider.
Would things have been different if he had swallowed his meager pride and confessed that he was poor? If he had begged for cheap sympathy by telling them that he was so poor he didn't even have parents, would they have accepted him?
He didn't want to do that.
Of course, there was one person who knew Juwon's circumstances very well, but perhaps he enjoyed seeing Juwon hated, because he deliberately kept his mouth shut.
Lee Seungwon, who had received Juwon's passes in middle school and entered high school because of them, had naturally become a substitute.
Tsk-
He sometimes showed inexplicable hostility, as if being a substitute were Juwon's fault.
During practice matches, Lee Seungwon's tackles against Juwon became more intense with each passing day, to the point where one had to wonder whether they were really on the same team.
"If I get stepped on here, he'll back off."
To the substitute player who came charging at him with a body full of resentment, Juwon gave him an elbow during the contest for the ball.
Aaaagh!
He fell down screaming, but it was obviously an exaggeration.
Because with his short stature, Juwon had barely managed to aim for his chest.
It wasn't even an official match, yet he rolled around the field making a huge fuss before leaving the pitch, and as a result, Juwon had to receive criticism for retaliating more than for the aggressive play that had come first.
"So what?"
Juwon ignored them while picking at his ear with his finger.
Instinctively, he knew that becoming a bastard was better than being looked down on.
"Juwon, Seungwon's father is extremely angry, and unfortunately, he's affiliated with the Korea Football Association."
Could life really become this tangled?
He had merely intended to set an example that showed people not to recklessly pull out weeds.
Lee Seungwon had quite the backing.
He even came in person several times, stormed into the soccer department in a rage, and then left.
"That bastard is the reason my son is injured and can't play in matches!!"
Strictly speaking, Lee Seungwon had already been a substitute, so it looked like nothing more than a petty scheme to cover up his son's incompetence by using this as an excuse.
Perhaps being affiliated with the association wasn't an empty title, because the coach began watching his step and hesitating to use Juwon.
And so he wasted his first and second years.
Practice Match GOAT.
Juwon remained the same.
By this point, even his teammates had begun to look at him with pity because he refused to give up.
They disliked him, found him petty and troublesome, but there was nothing else he could do except soccer.
Juwon did not break.
Perhaps it was because, from the beginning, he had never thought that he was competing on equal footing with the others.
While they comfortably kicked a ball, he spun newspapers.
While they took extra lessons from good teachers, he studied through YouTube using Wi-Fi he had secretly borrowed as if begging for alms.
While they ate nutritious meals, he filled his empty stomach with Choco Pies.
The thing that balanced the scales overflowing with inequality was Juwon's brilliant talent.
He instinctively knew that the moment he stopped, others would devour him.
So Juwon couldn't stop.
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.
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"Juwon, I'll put you on as a substitute for exactly one match. Can you show them what you can do?"
Had his efforts finally begun to break through the ceiling that had been pressing down on him?
One day, the coach spoke to Juwon with a solemn expression.
"The round of 16 at the national tournament. We're playing Hwaseong High School, the Suwon Oseong youth team. You know this well, but scouts are coming to this match. This is the best opportunity I can give you."
Just one match.
The coach promised to give Juwon his chance in front of as many people as possible.
The day of the match arrived.
As the coach had said, many people had come. Most of them were probably there to watch the players from Hwaseong High School.
"I can do this...."
Juwon repeated the words to himself as he sat on the bench and waited for his turn.
The match began with Jiogo High School taking the kickoff.
As expected, Hwaseong High School came out confidently with intense pressure from the beginning. Eventually, Jiogo lost the ball while circulating it in the second line and conceded a shot early in the first half.
And the sighs echoing through the stands were filled with disappointment.
From the bench, Juwon could understand it even better.
This was Hwaseong High School's showcase for the scouts.
"Just frogs in a well...."
A scathing assessment came from someone, whether a scout or merely a spectator.
As if proving that, just as they had said, it was only a matter of time before a goal went in, goals began pouring in one after another.
At the end of the first half, it was 2–0.
"Juwon."
The Jiogo coach stared at Juwon with a solemn expression.
He didn't need to say anything more.
Juwon knew this was one of the few opportunities the coach could give him.
"Substitution! Jiogo High School number 17, Juwon!"
He took off his training vest and headed toward the field.
Perhaps because it had been so long since he had played an official match, the familiar grass felt strangely unfamiliar.
Every cell in his body seemed to be telling him that this was a match on which his life depended, and his body trembled pleasantly.
As the king of the frogs in the well finally revealed himself on the field, hope filled the faces of his teammates.
No matter how weak they were, they were still players aiming to become professionals. They probably hadn't enjoyed being treated as mere extras.
The formation was 4-2-3-1. Juwon's position was attacking midfielder.
As Jiogo began losing the midfield battle under Hwaseong High School's fierce forward pressure, Juwon dropped deeper himself to receive the ball.
"Juwon!"
At last, a passing route opened.
As the ball rolled toward him with a shout, Juwon lightly redirected it with his left foot, maintaining his momentum and escaping the midfielder's pressure.
Because Hwaseong High School had pushed their line so high, the counterattack happened in an instant.
Even with a center-back rushing toward him, Juwon did not slow down.
He pushed the ball between the defender's legs and continued charging forward. Before he knew it, the only thing in front of him was the goalkeeper rushing out in desperation.
He looked toward the far post and struck with an inside kick.
When he saw the net ripple, goosebumps spread across Juwon's entire body.
He gently closed his eyes and gathered his unsettled emotions.
"I finally made it back here."
Then he immediately grabbed the ball and sprinted back toward the center circle.
"Not yet. Not yet. There's no time."
The time remaining for him, who might never get another chance, was less than 30 minutes.
.
.
.
Perhaps Juwon's actions had ruffled Hwaseong High School's feathers, because the match became even more intense.
In particular, the pressure directed at Juwon was tremendous.
With his weak physique, he couldn't withstand physical battles against opposing players.
Even when they merely grabbed his shoulder lightly, he couldn't compete for the ball. So Juwon lowered his center of gravity even further, threw caution to the wind, and ran across the field desperately, constantly on the verge of falling.
Like a mad dog weaving through heavily armored warriors, he ran and ran in search of the ball.
For a moment, Hwaseong High School hesitated with the ball, and this time Jiogo stole it.
As always, the ball was supplied to Juwon, and his legs began playing tricks on his opponent.
He beat the approaching midfielder with a flip-flap, then combined with a teammate running beside him for a one-two pass, leaving another player behind.
Another duel with the center-back who had already been nutmegged by him.
Tap-tap-tap-
Mixing in upper-body feints with a La Croqueta and Phantom Dribble, Juwon won the duel once again.
Then came a merciless shot and an inevitable goal.
The score was tied 2–2.
Juwon hurriedly checked the time.
The 38th minute of the second half.
There were only two minutes left until the end of the match.
The expressions of the Hwaseong High School players had hardened at this unexpected turn of events, while the faces of the Jiogo players were bright.
It was the same draw, but the difference in their expressions clearly showed which team had been stronger.
Among Jiogo's eleven players, the only person whose expression remained tense was Juwon.
The match resumed, and Juwon dropped back to the position occupied by Jiogo's defensive midfielder.
If necessary, he intended to carry the ball forward from here and finish the attack himself, so he moved to reinforce the midfield battle.
Perhaps misunderstanding his intention as an attempt to defend and finish the match with a draw, Hwaseong High School pushed their line up and focused on a final attack.
Hwaseong High School circulated the ball from side to side, trying to find an attacking route.
Then number 8 from Hwaseong High School made a passing mistake, sending the ball out over the touchline.
"Mark number 17!"
One player stuck tightly to Juwon while the others quickly returned to form their defensive line.
"One man can't stop me."
Juwon signaled for the player to pass the ball to him.
The central midfielder holding the ball noticed that Juwon was marked and hesitated for a moment, but then, as if making up his mind, sent a pass that Juwon could receive.
As the ball rolled toward him, Juwon pushed away his marker with his arm and shoulder while using one foot as a pivot and turning.
With an incredibly smooth Marseille Turn that drew an audible gasp, he easily shook off his marker.
"Stop him!!"
Ignoring the roar from the bench, Juwon ran forward while stealing a glance at the referee.
The referee had been glancing at his watch repeatedly for a while, as if he was preparing to end the match.
"Please, don't blow the whistle yet-!"
The opposing defenders lowered their line and waited for him, as though they were determined not to allow another dribbling breakthrough.
Juwon continued touching the ball more delicately, as though he had become one with it.
As he concentrated all his nerves on the ball, he was enveloped by an almost omnipotent sensation, as if he could even control the number of times the ball rolled.
Tap-
The ball he gently pushed forward rolled exactly far enough for him to take his approach for a shot.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
He focused on his final plant foot and shot.
Juwon's toes pointed toward the goal as his body hung suspended in the air.
Everyone's eyes remained fixed on the soccer ball as it beautifully lodged itself into the upper corner of the goal.
Juwon threw an uppercut toward the sky.
"Look at me! I am here!!"
"Uaaaaaaaah!"
The roar of the boy, filled with pent-up frustration, echoed toward the now-silent stands.