Chapter 12
Chapter 12
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 12
Chapter Title: Survival is the Goal (4)
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Unlike in Korea, sports betting in Europe—especially England—was as commonplace as any daily routine.
After all, these were people who lived and died by football.
Moreover, betting companies and football were inextricably linked.
“Of course, most fans bet modestly, just for fun. Some treat it like a good luck charm, betting on their favorite team in hopes of victory.”
In the creaky old conference room of Bolton Wanderers, where the scent of wood hung heavy in the air, Jeong-woo continued from his seat in the groaning executive chair.
“Having betting companies as sponsors is taken for granted here. Plenty of clubs proudly display their logos right on their chests.”
He had seen it clearly during Round 27 of the league.
Some fans crumpling papers in their hands.
They were almost certainly betting slips.
That’s when the idea struck him.
“We induce betting from the fans.”
“...”
“...”
“...”
The department heads around the table blinked in unison, staring up at Jeong-woo in the head seat.
With no response, Jeong-woo slammed his fist on the table with a sharp *thwack!* to drive the point home.
“Betting.”
Only then did two of them flinch.
Still, no questions came.
Richard Geers, the executive director seated to his right, was the only one to smile and speak up.
“Not just any betting, I take it?”
Curiosity gleamed in his eyes.
Sunlight filtered through the blinds behind the conference room.
*Blinding as hell.*
Jeong-woo reached out and tugged the cord to block the light before opening his mouth.
“It’s straightforward betting. We’ll sell Bolton Wanderers-exclusive betting slips.”
“What format?”
“For example, take the MK Dons match. We set it up like regular bets: win, draw, loss.”
In betting terms, a 1-fold game.
A structure that could actually hurt Bolton.
Richard Geers voiced his concern.
“Isn’t single-match betting a high-risk venture?”
It made sense.
Out of three options, you pick one.
But Jeong-woo shook his head.
“It’s betting without any profits or losses—at least financially.”
“No profits or losses?”
Geers furrowed his brow slightly.
If the owner was right, the betting conditions didn’t even make sense.
Jeong-woo, meanwhile, alternated glances between Geers and some of the department heads, flashing a bright smile.
“Instead, it comes with ticket refund conditions.”
Before Geers could respond, Jeong-woo added,
“Not just win-draw-loss—we predict scorers, score margins, everything. Plain win-draw-loss on a single fold is too unfavorable for us. Buy a ticket, get a betting slip like a buy-one-get-one-free. Of course, only if the fans want it.”
“Oh ho.”
“Ah, scorers are limited to one player per bet. Whether it’s 2-0 or 3-0, just pick the one who scores. That makes it appealing for bettors.”
“I see.”
Geers let out a small sigh of admiration.
“From the fans’ perspective, no loss if they miss.”
Hitting it saves on the ticket price.
Miss, and they just pay the entry fee.
Geers glanced sideways.
Next to him sat Charlotte Emma, head of strategic planning.
She stared at Jeong-woo with a somewhat surprised expression.
*This guy...*
At first, she’d pegged him as a man only interested in selling the club off as soon as possible.
It had barely been days since he took over as owner, and sale rumors were everywhere online.
But now, his eyes burned with more passion than anyone’s.
He was proactive, too.
The previous and former-before-that owners had just listened to proposals and signed off...
*He’s taking the lead.*
She’d thought the player sale talk was just the executive director puffing up the new owner’s credibility.
Now, Emma took a fresh look at Jeong-woo.
*He really is passionate about the job.*
Still, her disappointment in him lingered.
The fact that he’d planned to sell right after acquiring the club hadn’t changed.
To her, a fifth-generation Wanderers fan, it felt like betrayal.
Geers pulled his gaze from Emma and chimed in.
“I think it’s an intriguing plan. But no harm in hearing more input, so please, department heads—feel free to share opinions or objections.”
Jeong-woo nodded at Geers’ affable smile.
“If no objections, let’s implement it ASAP.”
* * *
The betting plan passed without dissent.
On to the next item.
Jeong-woo took a sip of the iced tea the executive director’s secretary had brought—ice cubes clinking—before speaking.
“One more thing: let’s run an event.”
He briefly toyed with the idea of hiring his own secretary.
*Grandpa’s blood runs thick...*
*Cough, cough. She’s a looker.*
A beauty who could steal anyone’s gaze.
He shook his head sharply to banish the temptation.
“What kind of event?”
Richard Geers asked.
Back to his passionate self, Jeong-woo held up a single finger.
“A random draw event.”
He figured plain betting wouldn’t cut it.
Hence, the random draw.
A staple in Korean football culture.
Draw numbers from entry tickets or separate stubs; when called, prizes for 1st, 2nd, 3rd.
Modest gifts, of course.
Korea’s so-called chaebol clubs gave away TVs and fridges via draws.
Sadly, with Bolton’s 100 million pounds in debt (1500 billion won), appliances were off the table.
*Give those away? We’d be suckers.*
Instead,
“We offer prizes like five free entry tickets. Once revenue picks up, we can up it to pricier stuff later... Oh, and this isn’t every match. True to random draw style, the timing’s random too.”
European football fans overflowed with love for the game.
Even relegated to the third tier, Bolton still drew steady crowds—abuse included.
Over 7,000 season tickets still valid proved it.
Jeong-woo bet this event would work.
No extra cost; tickets covered it.
*Heh.*
Even he felt proud.
Look around now.
Some front-office staff were finally whispering reactions.
“Th-that sounds good?”
“I think so too. No extra spend, and winners get free tickets.”
Richard Geers added his input.
“To boost attendance and promote the project, I recommend ramping up spot ads.”
“Spot ads... Yeah, good idea.”
Jeong-woo stroked his chin and nodded.
Promote upcoming matches on local broadcasts.
A bit of relay fee, but...
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
Some investment was key to bigger returns.
Jeong-woo turned his gaze.
Flinch!
The marketing head shuddered under the hawk-like stare.
“Uh, d-do you have something for me...?”
Among the defeatists, this one was dyed deepest.
Better to give direct orders to his type.
“For home games, make large banners and hang them in prominent spots around the city district.”
“Y-yes, sir...!”
The marketing head scribbled it down.
Not a long request, so let it slide.
On the flip side, his mood lifted a bit.
Everyone was hanging on his words.
*This feels... different?*
Back in Korea, no one but Hee-won listened.
*If they’d paid even a little attention, Jinju CF wouldn’t have tanked like that.*
Suppressing a smirk, Jeong-woo added,
“Especially big games—finish banners a week, no, two weeks early and install them.”
“Wh-what do you mean by big games?”
“League One top teams or Bolton rivals. Wigan, Rochdale, Preston North End, that sort. Make the bottom slogan punchy. Rival derbies especially. Hmm...”
Lost in thought, Jeong-woo tapped the table with index and middle fingers before continuing.
“For example... ‘League One Gatekeeper Rochdale! One Bite Away from Becoming Wanderers’ Tasty Prey!’”
“...”
“Or rally the Wanderers spirit. ‘Where Our Players Go, We Wanderers Follow...!’”
He threw his arms wide dramatically.
A bit over the top.
Staff blinked at him.
*Ahem.*
Jeong-woo coughed awkwardly and lowered his hands.
“Oh, and Executive Director.”
“Yes, Owner?”
Topic shift.
“Let’s schedule me on Bolton district radio.”
“May I ask why?”
“I’ll fire the first promo shot myself. First greeting to the Wanderers as owner.”
Strike while the iron’s hot.
His eyes sparkled with ambition like never before.
*Please, come on out. Gotta plug this debt hole clean!*
* * *
Meanwhile, in Greater Manchester.
At Manchester City, power analyst Neil Burdock fiddled with his laptop keys.
Office lights had been off for ages.
2020-2021 season: the team topped the EPL.
Skinny, with neatly trimmed brown hair, Burdock puffed up.
“My credit’s huge.”
In one of the EPL’s top clubs, he was first-team analyst.
This season alone, he’d given Pep Guardiola three tactical gems worth noting.
“I remember exactly. Round 9 vs. Manchester United, Champions League group stage vs. Real Madrid, and that six-pointer against Chelsea...!”
Burdock let out a satisfied *kugh~* at his own brilliance.
“Even that stubborn Pep incorporated my advice into tactics.”
The smug smile lingered.
But it drooped in under a minute.
*Tap, tap!*
Burdock pounded the keys aimlessly.
Irritation tingled in his fingertips.
Last month had been rough for him.
Staring at the “World Management” site header on screen, Burdock muttered,
“Almost a month now...”
*Screech—!*
He readjusted in his executive chair, which groaned. With a heavy *phew!*, he sighed.
“Mad Dog...”
The low-whispered nickname belonged to a top tactical guru on World Management—called Fab, Klopp, Conte levels.
Online or not, his tactics had massive real-world impact.
“Definitely... effective in practice.”
Pep’s trust stemmed from Mad Dog.
Burdock had passed off Mad Dog.’s uploads as his own to Pep.
Few tactics were as grounded in reality.
“Who the hell is this guy?”
Like many, Burdock wondered.
Not your average coach, that’s for sure.
Most users guessed a top coach or manager from Europe’s Big Five.
Burdock agreed.
“Even rigid Pep approved it.”
Uploads were practical, expert, varied.
Sometimes evoked legendary Marcelo Bielsa’s Murderball.
Days later, counter-tactics to Murderball.
In mere months, Mad Dog topped World Management popularity.
But,
“Why go dark for a month?”
Neil Burdock gripped his thinning forelock, grumbling.
Since Mad Dog vanished, Burdock faded from Pep’s radar.
He wasn’t alone in missing him.
World Management forums were ablaze.
- : Where’s our Mad Dog bro? Why no show?
- : Last upload a month ago... Weekly Mad Dog coach, where’d you go?
- : Back to day job? Bielsa returned around then.
: Bielsa posting tactics in Korean? (Spain)
: You never know. Site translates English posts to Korean. Nationality changeable in profile. Plus Mad Dog posted in English often—maybe hiding identity. (BTW I’m actually German.)
: Bullshit.
Mad Dog threads dominated.
Some amateur league coaches desperately wanted new tactics.
Burdock sighed deeply, muttering,
“This guy... he didn’t die, did he?”