Chapter 15
Chapter 15
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Low Cost, High Efficiency (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
League Round 28.
Bolton's opponent was Accrington, sitting at 22nd in the standings.
As it was their second straight home game, the Wanderers were buzzing with excitement.
The gap between relegation-zone teams was just 1 or 2 points, meaning a single win could shake up the table.
Ma Jeong-woo had attended the match today as well.
Of course, it ended in another disappointing result.
"0-0."
From the private VIP seats, Ma Jeong-woo let out a deep sigh.
"Another game of parking the bus with a three-back and calling it a day."
Richard Geers, seated beside him, offered some faint consolation.
"There is some change, though."
Ma Jeong-woo straightened up from his slouched position.
"You're right."
His eyes were sparkling now.
Richard Geers followed his gaze.
The match had just wrapped up, and spectators were filing out through the gates one by one.
Geers' lips curved into a smile at the sight of the owner's suddenly brightened face.
Ma Jeong-woo asked,
"How many in the crowd today?"
Geers replied without a second thought.
"5,783."
He added without prompting,
"That's about 3,427 more than Round 27."
And a good number of them clutched the betting slips produced by Bolton's marketing team.
Some ripped theirs up on the spot.
The corner of Ma Jeong-woo's mouth twitched.
The betting event and random draw were paying off.
"Fucking awesome."
Pleased that his project was hitting the mark, Ma Jeong-woo soon furrowed his brow.
"That stubborn bastard."
In his line of sight, Derek Scott trudged off from the technical area, face twisted in displeasure.
Ma Jeong-woo crossed his arms, lost in thought.
‘Short-term, these events can pull in crowds... but there's a limit.’
What fans really craved was wins.
And right now, Bolton could barely snag those.
If the draws, losses, and snoozefests kept piling up, even these new fans would drain away like a sieve.
Derek Scott blowing off his advice made it all the more infuriating.
"Ptooey!"
He hawked a loogie with gusto. It wouldn't reach, but still.
The board members behind him flinched.
Geers, meanwhile, flashed a hearty grin.
‘Full of life, our owner.’
After his impulsive spit-take, Ma Jeong-woo cleared his throat with a loud harrumph and turned away.
"What's next on the schedule?"
* * *
Next up was a visit to the agency.
Dissatisfied with their dispatched scouts, Ma Jeong-woo was handling it personally.
Not that it was the real reason.
He had other business.
The agency wasn't far from the stadium.
"The previous owner—well, ever since Derek Scott set foot in the club—has been in a partnership with Bolton."
Richard Geers explained at the door to the agent's executive office.
Ma Jeong-woo gave a small nod.
"A Agency, right? A bunch of our starters are with them."
He'd heard it from Geers and confirmed it in the players' profiles.
And... something stank beyond that door.
‘That stench.’
The same whiff he'd caught off Derek Scott.
Intuition, maybe.
Richard Geers tacked on, his expression darkening a touch,
"Derek Scott personally recommended them to the previous owner. Plenty of clients, sure... but low efficiency."
A quick glance showed the dissatisfaction etched on Geers' face.
"To the true Wanderers fans, they're a bunch of fucks."
"..."
Spot on.
Ma Jeong-woo figured he wanted the deal with A Agency scrapped.
Plenty of Geers' reports to the old owner sat buried in those document piles.
And he'd filed dissenting opinions against a slew of the previous owner's—his grandfather's—policies.
‘All shot down.’
Dust an inch thick when he first found them.
‘Didn't even glance.’
Sniff, sniff!
Ma Jeong-woo sniffed twice, dog-like, and nodded firmly.
"Let's at least make introductions."
A Agency's head honcho, Wayne James, was a slick gentleman with his flashy blond hair swept back in a perfect pompadour.
Looks-wise, he could've been a Hollywood leading man.
Sharp on fashion too, in a shirt tailored to his frame, planted firm in his executive chair.
Earrings glinting in his lobes.
After brief hellos, Ma Jeong-woo cut to the chase.
"I need a top striker, a center-back, and a central midfielder."
Wayne James grinned wolfishly.
"Our agency's overflowing with strikers, center-backs, and central mids."
"Sounds perfect. For the striker, I want pace. We'll slot him in as RF, so both-footed would be ideal... but those run pricey, so second choice: left-footed preferred."
James snapped his thumb and middle finger, naming a name on the spot.
"How about Gusris? Lighting it up as a standout striker in League Two."
Ma Jeong-woo, bolt upright on the facing sofa, creased his brow.
He eased back against the cushions.
"Starting with the big-money guy, huh? League Two's top scorer."
"Desperate to stay up? Time to splash cash and escape the drop zone, no?"
Ma Jeong-woo shook his head.
"His team's top of League Two right now. Twelve points clear of second. Promotion's basically locked in... so no way Gusris jumps to relegation-haunted Bolton."
"Hoo, is that so?"
James flashed a loaded smile.
Ma Jeong-woo stared him down.
‘This prick.’
Seemed like he was sizing him up, testing him.
Pushing an unaffordable player first thing.
Same story after.
"I want a center-back with top-shelf defending. Pace no issue, but pure defensive profile required. Offensive flair optional."
"How about League Two's Lupa."
"That guy's pricey too, from what I hear."
"Then cheaper: Gabrielle."
"That one's not just slow—he's glacial."
Ten-plus minutes of back-and-forth, zero tempting offers.
Ma Jeong-woo was convinced now.
‘This asshole... testing if I know the market inside out.’
Right on the money.
‘Impressive.’
Word had spread fast here: Bolton's new owner was diving straight into sell-off mode.
And that he was some analyst from a backwater lower league.
They'd underestimated him, sure.
Wondered if he grasped League One and Two player valuations.
Probed with absurdly priced talents or ones with hidden flaws.
‘Sees through it all.’
Worlds apart from the clueless previous owner.
That's when it hit.
"Through 28 rounds, we've scraped just 14 points. Twenty-eight games, four wins. Two draws."
Ma Jeong-woo's voice rose, edged with annoyance.
"Forty-six games in the season means eighteen shots at points left. To dodge the drop, we need at least 36 more. That's twelve wins, minimum."
He leaned in toward the table.
His rust-brown eyes bored into James.
"Last ten years of League One? Fifty points to survive."
Geers watched from the side, amused.
‘Got James rattled.’
The brass-balls agent's face twitched ever so slightly.
James was indeed jolted by every word.
"To escape the relegation scrap in League One, we hit that minimum I mentioned. And that's not all? Bolton's scored 16 league goals, conceded 50. Dead last in both."
"So what are you getting at...!"
Thump!
James barely got the words out before Ma Jeong-woo smacked the table lightly, shutting him down.
"Last decade's League stats... we need 30 more goals to stay up. And to aim for survival, no more than 20 conceded. There! See the players I want now?"
James gawped, speechless.
A split-second storm raged.
‘This pressure...’
Just locking eyes with the owner choked his words.
Feral, unpredictable ember.
The weighty vibe left James squirming harder.
Ma Jeong-woo pulled back slow.
Snap!
Leaned into the backrest, legs crossed with elegant flair.
Peak arrogance.
James' brow spasmed.
‘This punk, in my face...!’
Oblivious, Ma Jeong-woo narrowed his eyes and unleashed a barrage.
"I need attackers to bag at least 30 goals in the last 18 league games. Defenders and mids to shut down 20-plus concessions. Creators to feed my striker 30-plus big chances. All at League One average wages."
He jerked his chin.
Gaze dripping open contempt.
Like a teacher schooling a pupil.
"Does A Agency have clients fitting my specs?"
"..."
James clammed up.
No need to answer.
Ma Jeong-woo's eyes spelled it out.
‘You got nothing.’
Crunch!
His fist clenched on his knee.
‘What?’
No clue why this smug bastard eyed him with such ironclad certainty.
That's when.
"Truth is, I'm not here to shop for players."
James felt a hammer to the skull.
"Wh-what?"
What kind of bullshit?
After that fiery rant, now claiming it wasn't a signing trip?
Ma Jeong-woo's lips curled slyly at James' face twitching like seismic activity.
"Seven of Bolton's starters are with A Agency... what, you think we're suckers enough to buy more from you?"
Pure provocation.
Wayne James' mug went from beet-red to eruption-ready.
"You're disrespecting A Agency?"
Ma Jeong-woo snorted a laugh, waving it off.
"Nah, not that. Data shows you overpaid Transfermarkt values... and the ROI sucks. So, consumer complaint while dropping by to say hi."
"What did you say?"
"Anyway, niceties done. Catch you next time."
Talk over, Ma Jeong-woo rose without pause.
Wayne James shuddered, shock-locked.
Hand on the doorknob, Ma Jeong-woo paused and tossed out flatly,
"Oh yeah, Derek Scott's with A Agency too, right."
* * *
Out of A Agency's executive office, Ma Jeong-woo ambled down the hall, hands jammed in his suit pants pockets.
Geers walked beside, beaming with satisfaction.
‘James turning red...’
Long live to see that.
The owner's dive-in guts were growing on him.
Then Ma Jeong-woo muttered, like to himself.
"Same breed of scum, that one and this one."
"...Pardon?"
Geers blinked in confusion.
Ma Jeong-woo shot a glance back at the office, eyes slitting.
"Play this right, we might ditch 'em penalty-free."