Market Value Trumps Victimhood
Koreans crave validation from the West. Mo Chanhee, backed by the media and portals, was no pushover.
"I respect Coach Baek Ho-dol's tactical choices. However, the national team isn't a place for personal grudges. Win or lose, unity must come first outside the pitch."
Team unity? This fucker who stood there with his hands behind his back whenever I sacrificed for the team, puking blood in high-press mode just to steal the ball back—he's suiting up in the bulletproof vest of "unity" now?
"Above all, I'm most worried that this controversy will divide us right before the World Cup and shake the young players' mentality. As a senior in Korean football, I'll shoulder all the blame and misunderstandings myself. Please, just focus on the games, juniors."
Shoulder all the blame himself? That's a high-level political signal telling my side to attack this immature kid. Rat-fuck rhetoric at its finest. Pretending to endure, acting like no one understands but it's all for Korean football. The magnanimous big man saying I'll take it all, so forget the internal beef and focus on the upcoming World Cup.
The article blew up, and the comments section ignited instantly.
The logical foundation of my bombshell statement evaporated in seconds. What stuck in the public's mind was the frame: saintly victim Mo Chanhee versus ungrateful young punk Ryu Rion. In politics, that's Ballon d'Or level.
I gave a bitter smile, staring at the clouds out the airplane window.
Those 50 Million Bandwagon Fans just want a simple good-vs-evil story. Tactics? Efficiency? Too complicated, hurts their heads. That fox bastard Mo Chanhee pierced right through their edited memories and simplistic narrative instincts.
It was pure black comedy. The guy who threw his body for 90 minutes, sacrificed for the team, and delivered results gets overshadowed by the SNS finger-wiggler hailed as a hero. And that rat attacks me for being "immature," dismantling all my legitimacy.
Unity? Team's future? Bullshit. The fucker who can't even play properly in the North-Central America second qualifiers right now. The good-vs-evil frame was complete. Just like Tak Go-gang became the villain in my past life, now it was my turn. But the silver lining? I'd seen Tak Go-gang's case firsthand in that life. Hell, even better. The masses would see me as poison ruining team unity. Perfect. That worked in my favor. Only one way to flip this: Europe's perception. Fuck Korean treatment. Korea's full of deep-seated colonial mentality anyway—Western approval is what matters.
Mo Chanhee's interview was flawless on rewatch. In my past life, it turned Tak Go-gang into the villain so perfectly even I was glad it wasn't me. Experiencing it firsthand taught me how crucial media victim cosplay is—"I'm the good guy, you're the bad ones." No more verbal sparring. I'd exploit their colonial mindset. K-pop idols are the textbook case. Back home, fans nitpick dance, vocals, English, styling. But look at any world-class group now—their Korean reception at the start was trash.
So they switched strategies: get famous for being famous. Famous for being famous.
They didn't bet everything on pure musicality from day one. Sure, decent quality as a baseline, but they built a U.S. fandom first. That was the foundation. Then, through social media's massive megaphone, they screamed "We're here!" nonstop to the other side of the planet. That relentless noise piqued mainstream U.S. media curiosity, landing them on the Billboard marquee. Early Korean fans ignored the mid-tier agency idol, but once Billboard awarded them and they hit U.S. talk shows, sentiment flipped—thanks to colonial mentality. An award from Billboard to a Korean? Western validation. In Korean society, that's proof of skill and worth. Fans who ignored them jumped on the bandwagon once America went wild. Reverse import. They get drunk on "the world recognizes us," acting like shareholders in the success. National Pride High.
Masterful exploitation of Korean validation hunger. Fame itself morphs into proof of excellence. Mention a celeb, and people lose it. Not everyone pulls it off, but it's easier than earning respect at home. Textbook strategy—time to use it. Like Mo Chanhee manipulated the masses, I'd manipulate them back to prove you were wrong, and your worshipped hero is worthless.
"Alright. Let's do this."
The screen in front of me showed the flight path heading toward the European continent.
After landing, I was exiting Vigo Airport, chatting with my agent Cha Daehyeok. He was spilling worries about Korean news and excitement over big-club offers in equal measure.
"Bro, that parasite comment at the airport? It's like pouring gas on the fire! Senior Mo Chanhee nailed the pitiful hero cosplay, and Korean football fans are rioting that you're a personality trash heap!"
I tossed off my sunglasses with a smirk.
"Daehyeok, those 50 Million Bandwagon Fans wanted me as the villain, so mission accomplished. My role's done, right?"
"Role? You getting shat on is a role? Clarify now!"
"Clarification isn't done with words." I scanned Spain around me.
"I already nailed it: football isn't played with your mouth. Wasting breath now just puts me on Mo Chanhee's level. I'll prove it with results, like I said."
"Results matter, but public opinion right now..."
"Tell public opinion to fuck off."
I cut him off.
"Daehyeok, what's the latest offer and quoted transfer fee?"
Cha Daehyeok caught his breath.
"Most recent: Liverpool at 35 million euros. Celta Vigo's holding out due to the release clause, but it'll hit 40 million soon."
"Good enough." With the season over,
offers would speak for me.
"My value isn't from a few goals or assists. It's 35 million euros because I bled for 90 minutes up front, high-pressing to dismantle the opponent's entire tactic."
I lowered my voice.
"Mo Chanhee's market value? Hands-behind-back unity—how much in euros?"
Cha Daehyeok said bitterly, "Market's quiet ahead of his FA..."
"No renewal offers for Mo Chanhee. Why should I respond?"
"..."
"Daehyeok, from now on, counter every Korean controversy with transfer rumors, actual offers, and market value only."
"Got it."
Cha Daehyeok went quiet on the line. I'd wrapped the Mo Chanhee feud in the most tactical, economic way. A big-club 500-billion-won train roared louder than rat statements and boiling pots.
A few days later, the Korean sports fandom reeled in shock once more. My frame—big-club 35 million euro offers vs. no-offer player—perfectly crushed Mo Chanhee's sentimental "good senior vs. character-wrecked junior" narrative. Celta Vigo now a La Liga top seller, with me as the whirlwind star; the pricier they make it, the higher my value skyrockets. Mid-20s prime potential age adds premium. Buyer interest grows. Rumors from everywhere—if EPL giants like Man City, Liverpool, five clubs bid-war with inflation, price jumps at least 20%. National team drama? Not even a blip in Europe. They prioritize raw skill and marketing potential over Korean noise.