Prologue: A Failed Soccer Player
I'm a failed soccer player.
Is there any other sentence that sums me up besides this one?
Ah, there is.
To put it a bit provocatively, I'm the guy who claimed the top spot in those "prospects derailed by injuries" YouTube rankings.
Well, if it weren't for the injuries, I could've landed at one of Europe's premier big clubs. People always flock to the biggest falls from grace.
That's why I topped that video.
If not for that absurd tackle, I might be tearing it up in a European league right now.
Not boasting—top clubs were genuinely after me.
Right in my prime growth years, some jealous prick went for my ankle. It shattered into pieces.
After that, my speed tanked, and trauma turned me timid in physical duels.
When your body's utterly wrecked, even talent can't bail you out. I never wanted to learn that the hard way, but I did.
My game after game just kept slipping, my condition turning to absolute rags with every match.
Anyway, the kid once hailed as Korea's next ace in the second line? I ended up a benchwarmer in the dregs of the second division.
"Shooting—ah, so close! Yoon Jongmun with a screamer, but An Suhyeon's brilliant save!"
"Tell me about it. Fitting for a promotion playoff—pure intensity."
"And now, Cheonan Skies coach Lee Jungwoo is subbing!"
"Yes, Yoon Jongmun off, Choi Donghyeon coming on."
I wanted my retirement match to end on a high note…
Dark-faced, I high-fived the coach quick and slumped onto the bench with a sigh. If my body had held up, that shot was a goal.
What can you do? I just couldn't run anymore.
Game over, teammates consoled me, and I hit the drinks with my close seniors and juniors.
Some offered sympathy, others pitched youth soccer coaching gigs.
Tempting, but I passed. Just needed a break. And that wrapped my last night out as a pro.
Whoa, the booze is hitting my skull hard. Losing the dream? Or maybe chugging more than I ever could before.
Staggering home—thought I'd make it—then bam, tripped over something.
"Ow! What the hell, this damn curb…"
Those were my last words. Tried scrambling up, but a blinding light swallowed me whole.
Some psycho truck mounting the sidewalk and nailing me. Airborne, I thought: Today's luck is utter trash.
"Aaaagh! Heuk… huuuh… what the…"
I definitely died, right? So why am I waking up in a bed? Some alien energy surged through me. This pale skin—it's not my body.
Rushed to the bathroom mirror. My face? Totally different.
Reincarnation? Fine, cool… awesome.
But why the hell am I a foreigner?!