Hunting the Rat
"......"
The reporters' murmurs died down.
My question wasn't in their scripted scenarios.
One of the sharper ones—or maybe someone in cahoots with the football association—mumbled and spoke up hesitantly.
"Does that even matter? The public wants to know what Ryu Rion talked about with the president! We're asking on behalf of the people's right to know. Are you defying us?"
I let out a sharp laugh.
Defying. Brutal word choice.
"My question is important. Very important."
I stared straight into the camera lenses, spitting out each word deliberately.
"You know this is a closed-door meeting, yet you're talking about the right to know here? Don't you understand what 'closed-door' means? And someone's feeding my private schedule to you reporters in real-time."
The air turned icy.
I took a step forward. The reporters flinched back.
"Private investigators?"
A silence so deep even the shutter clicks seemed to stop.
I drove the wedge in without missing a beat.
"Let me explain why you can't answer. You're getting info from some football association staffers. You can't admit it, so you're dodging. Am I wrong?"
"H-how can you be so sure?"
I shrugged.
"Then how'd you know?"
"We did our reporting..."
"You can't even report on the national team's internal factions properly—what kind of reporting is that? Stop just scribbling notes and actually do some digging."
I parted the stunned reporters like the Red Sea and walked through.
"Oh, and one more thing."
I turned back with a grin.
"Tell the president to hang in there. What the hell's a rat bastard doing in the association anyway?"
The board was set.
Now it was time for the 50 Million Bandwagon Fans to boil over.
With a barrage of flashes at my back, I climbed into the van Daehyeok had waiting.
Thud.
The heavy door shut, blocking out the noise.
Daehyeok glanced at me in the rearview from the driver's seat.
"Hyung, you really lost it back there? My heart skipped when you said 'private investigators.'"
"Wasn't wrong, though. They are PI scum."
"True, but... you don't hold back anymore. It's like you've been reborn or something."
"......"
"Articles are gonna flood now—can you handle it?"
"No matter what I do, the haters'll hate. Better to say my piece and take the hits."
I sank deep into the seat and loosened my tie.
The car pulled away smoothly.
Out the window, the reporters still staking out faded into the distance.
"Hey, Daehyeok."
"Yeah, hyung."
"Isn't it weird?"
"What?"
I kept my eyes on the passing scenery.
"Has the whole country ever cared this much about appointing a national team coach?"
Daehyeok turned the wheel and tilted his head.
"Hmm... yeah. Usually it's just 'this guy's a candidate' or 'that one's leading.' Never seen every Power Strengthening Committee meeting detail turned into articles like live broadcasts."
"Right? Not in my memory either."
I propped my chin and pondered.
Power Strengthening Committee. PSC for short.
This body's supposed to be closed-door by principle.
They analyze the national team's strength, scout and vet coaches accordingly, then recommend to the association.
Naturally, discussions involve tons of secrets.
Candidate backgrounds, salary negotiations—even Korea football's dirty laundry and weaknesses.
"Don't those committee members all sign nondisclosure agreements going in?"
"Of course. Breach it, and they face legal consequences."
"So how do reporters know and pump out exclusives daily? Hours after meetings start, we get 'who said what in debate' or 'strong recommendations'—super detailed."
"Yeah, now that you mention it, it's fishy. Someone bugging them?"
"Bugs? Nah."
I smirked and pulled out my phone.
The screen already had clips of me ripping into the reporters as memes.
"There's a rat inside. Deep inside."
"A rat? You mean in the PSC?"
"Could be a committee member, admin handling minutes... or..."
I paused.
Seo Taeyoung's resignation.
And info leaking in real-time.
"Someone above even President Kim Myeonggyu, leaking on purpose."
"Nah, why would the association leak their own meetings? They'd get flak."
"They get flak but gain something. Someone wants leverage via the 50 Million Bandwagon Fans. Or some idiot with secrets thinks he's FBI and feeds reporters tidbits."
Daehyeok looked confused, but I was certain.
"Daehyeok."
"Yeah, hyung."
I gazed at Seoul's skyscrapers flashing by and spoke softly.
"Remember last year's and early this year's entertainment drug scandals?"
He glanced over and nodded.
"Oh... the actor and idol cases? Yeah, the country flipped."
"Right. Know what those were really about?"
"Drug use, right?"
"No."
I shook my head firmly.
"Personality assassination disguised as justice."
I heard him swallow hard.
"That idol named in the drug leak—what was the outcome?"
"Cleared. Negative tests, no evidence, case dropped."
"Facts. Innocent. But media shredded them as junkies before investigation. Speculation, rumors... public just threw stones assuming guilt."
Anger boiled in my voice.
"The actor... got an even worse end."
The car's air grew heavy.
"Who leaked the investigation info? Reporters get divine visions?"
"......Internal from the cops."
"Bingo. So-called 'friendly cops' leaked unconfirmed suspect details like live TV. Remember the Incheon PD leak scandal? For stats, orders from above, or just attention."
I let out a hollow laugh.
"Korea's that kind of country. Wrap leaks in 'right to know' packaging, and whistleblowers become heroes."
I checked my phone for the reporter who'd grilled me.
"Football association's looking just like that now."
"Huh?"
"PSC's closed-door. Candidates? Strategies? All classified. But it's live-streamed? Someone's leaking deliberately. Like those cops."
"Whoa... creepy. So testing candidates with leaks?"
"Could be gauging reactions or dooming disliked ones via public trial. Like the drug case—toss 'em out, let the mob bite, then 'public hates it, so no go.'"
I clenched my fist.
Nothing changed then or now.
Power abusers wield info to gut people—or organizations.
That brutal system that drove the actor off the cliff was now wrecking Korean football. Screw right or wrong—these bastards gawk like it's a zoo, demanding full exposure, then cry when investigated.
"Daehyeok."
"Yeah."
"I can't stand it."
"Hyung...?"
"Witch hunts on innocents are gross, but talentless hacks selling secrets for politics? Vile. At least where I play football, I won't see that shit."
My eyes flashed.
"Cops who leaked got caught eventually. I'll do the same to the association's rat."
"H-how?"
"Simple. Set rat poison."
Secret oath? Feed it to the dogs.
One sheet of paper can't stop that level of idiocy.
I tapped my phone screen.
"Look up Seo Taeyoung's contact."
"Huh? The resigned chair? Why?"
"Buy him a drink for his troubles. And..."
I curled my lip slyly.
"Get a hint on the rat."
PSC's compromised?
Fine. Time to turn it against them.
Find the leak hole, pour in scalding water—can't wait to see the rats scurry.
I was checking the K League united team roster.
The Coupang Friendly Cup series had a home game coming up: Celta Vigo vs. K League United.
The list had player photos and greetings.
Some familiar faces, plenty not—especially Jang Kangcheol. This guy's unique. His greeting: "Celta Vigo's strong? Just win."
What the hell kinda guy is this?