Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Rock Bottom (1)
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Thank you!
Black-Haired Tactical Genius
Episode 2: Rock Bottom (1)
"Ma Jeong-woo? You home?"
Thud thud!
The two burly men visible through the peephole in the front door were complete strangers.
Jeong-woo backed away from the door, one eyebrow twitching.
'That build... loan sharks?'
In truth, Ma Jeong-woo had inherited all his late parents' debts.
Private loans, at that.
He'd scrimped and saved on everything he wanted to eat or buy, trying desperately to pay them off, but he was at his limit.
His monthly stipend topped out at just over 2 million won.
Lately, with the team's poor performance, it had dipped to around 1.2 million.
Victory bonuses were 400,000 won each.
But last month, out of four games, they'd scraped just one win.
The team's slump had snowballed into missed loan payments.
Swish.
Jeong-woo snatched up his phone from where it lay haphazardly on the floor.
'Let's see here.'
After checking the unread messages, Jeong-woo was certain.
[We plan to visit during the week.]
A debt collector's notice.
'Damn it.'
Jeong-woo grimaced and quietly dropped into a squat.
Those guys beyond the door were definitely loan sharks.
In this day and age, they wouldn't resort to violence or anything dramatic...
'Still, best to play dead when you're at a disadvantage.'
They'd come for a firm repayment plan.
Too bad Jeong-woo didn't have a single ten-thousand-won note to his name.
'Can't even pay my phone bill on time... I'll pay when I have the money, I swear.'
Thud thud!
"Ma Jeong-woo?"
"This the right place?"
"Yeah, it is."
"Ahem."
Listening to their mumbling from beyond the door, Jeong-woo grabbed an empty soju bottle from the corner of the room.
Seeing about half a glass left, he tilted it back without hesitation.
Soon enough, a deep furrow creased his brow.
'Doesn't even hit anymore.'
Regretfully licking his lips.
Then he flopped straight onto the floor.
'Alright, time to sleep. They'll leave eventually.'
* * *
Thud thud!
Thud thud thud!
The relentless knocking jolted Jeong-woo awake.
Propped up on the floor, his hand brushed his phone.
The time on the screen read past 1 p.m.
"Hey, Jeong-woo! You in there? You dead? You promised to hand over your bank account and sell off your stuff to me before you croaked. You really gone?"
A familiar voice came from beyond the door.
Joking around, but with a dash of genuine concern mixed in.
The loan sharks must have left.
"Yeah, coming."
Unlike before, Jeong-woo sprang up and flung open the door without a second thought.
"Ta-da~!"
As if he'd been waiting, his childhood friend Park Hee-won—looking wrinkled like a used champagne bottle—waved a black plastic bag right in his face.
"Pork belly. They threw in some back ribs too... Whew, you stink. Go wash up, man."
Hee-won took a step forward, then pinched his nose and complained.
"You clean this place since you moved in? Smells like mold in here."
Despite Hee-won's nagging, Jeong-woo's eyes were glued to the bag.
Spotting that hyena-like stare, Hee-won yanked the bag behind his back.
"Whoa, easy there. Don't scarf it down half-raw again and get stomachache. Let's take it slow today, grill it nice and easy."
"That's the plan. Got soju? Cola? Beer?"
Hee-won narrowed his eyes at Jeong-woo's bird's-nest hair.
"You really... I buy the meat, you can't even provide drinks? That's basic friend etiquette. You got nothing at home?"
"Nope."
"You cheap bastard... I always foot the bill? Huh? You treating me like a sucker?"
The more he talked, the more indignant he felt.
Jeong-woo, meanwhile, was utterly shameless.
"I let you crash here. Quit yapping and come in."
"Sheesh, this dump's so bad you should be paying me to stay. 'Can I crash here~' If it weren't for your grandma..."
Back in their childhood, Hee-won's shaman grandmother had once said:
[Yoon-seok! For you to make it big, that kid's gotta stick by your side! Never cut him loose! Got it?]
That was over twenty years ago.
And Hee-won had realized:
'Make it big, my ass...'
By the time he snapped out of it, he'd been bankrolling Jeong-woo for over two decades.
Not that it was bad.
Quite the opposite.
Jeong-woo had once saved him from drowning as a kid, on the brink of the afterlife.
Plus, all those years of bickering had forged a deep bond between them.
Kindergarten, elementary, middle, high school—even enlisting in the army together.
Brothers, basically.
Hee-won harbored a sliver of hope too.
The guy who saved his life—maybe Grandma was right, and it'd pay off someday.
"What about our grandma?"
"Not your grandma, our grandm— Nah, I'd just be wasting breath."
"Then hand over the meat."
"..."
Hee-won stared at his face for a moment before sighing and kicking off his shoes in resignation.
"Yeah, fine. That's Jeong-woo for you."
That day, the two gorged themselves on meat and booze until they could barely move.
* * *
Jeong-woo had known since his military days that his tactical skills were top-notch.
He'd coached the ball-sport-obsessed officers a few times, and it clicked instantly.
Word of his coaching prowess spread like wildfire through the unit.
One day, a division-wide soccer tournament kicked off.
Jeong-woo, already nicknamed 'Manager Ma' in the unit, became the hidden dragon aiding the battalion coMad Doger.
His battalion under the 3rd Division took the championship.
Jeong-woo scored a nine-day reward vacation.
That's when the passion for soccer coaching—and the burning question—ignited.
Could he make it in the pros...?
And here he was.
Damn it all.
"As you know... another loss, and we're relegated."
At the rickety wooden desk sat the current Jinju CF manager, face grim as he spoke.
'This guy...'
Jeong-woo narrowed his eyes at that telltale expression.
Familiar scene.
Just days ago, he wouldn't even glance at Jeong-woo's scouting reports.
Now he was the picture of sycophancy.
Back in the army, he'd wondered if his skills would cut it in the pros.
Short answer: hell yes.
Even in the third division, Jeong-woo made waves as an analyst from day one.
A genius had arrived.
The honeymoon didn't last.
'Fucking club owner.'
The owner who'd hired him fired Jeong-woo's mentor-director for no reason.
Turned out it was school ties.
Jeong-woo's mentor from some no-name college—owner slotted in an inexperienced junior alum instead.
That's when Jeong-woo's downfall began.
"Say something..."
The manager spoke with the weariness of a man who'd seen it all.
Jeong-woo frowned.
This poser wouldn't give him the time of day in front of the other coaches.
'Same as the old owner and director.'
Prioritizing connections.
But right now, in this office, it was just Jeong-woo and manager Jo Sung-jun.
And Jo, for all his clique obsession, always came crawling to Jeong-woo in crises.
Bowing low.
"You visited the owner's office yesterday."
Jeong-woo asked, leaning cockily against the wall.
Jo nodded bitterly.
"Yeah. Poor results—had to."
No silver bullet in tactics.
Still... frustrating.
Jeong-woo grumbled on.
"Then why not run with my tactics? All those tweaks on tweaks."
Jo Sung-jun was a grizzled K3 League vet.
Nice way to say he'd bounced around the lower tiers.
But years on the job had honed his distinct style.
'Filters out anything he doesn't like, cherry-picks what fits his mold.'
People get more stubborn with age.
And in a pinch, principles go out the window.
'Hypocrite through and through.'
Jo Sung-jun to a T.
"Win tomorrow, or we escape relegation. You're the answer. Owner says I'm gone if we drop."
Jo's face was pure desperation, tossing out lines he'd never say otherwise.
"You know... four daughters. Eldest has college entrance exams soon... How's she study if Dad gets canned?"
Oh, playing the family card? Exams ended days ago, genius.
A year left, really.
Jeong-woo wanted to tell him to figure it out and storm off.
Reality said no.
If the team relegated, he'd be next after the manager.
'No teams left to take me.'
In this nepotistic world, hopping clubs had led to brawls in locker rooms...
Why they called him Mad Dog.
Didn't care who—superior or not.
Finally, Jeong-woo relented.
"Fine. Do exactly as I say."
* * *
K3 League: 16 clubs, 30 games per season.
15th and 16th: straight relegation.
14th: playoff vs. fourth-division team.
Right now, Jinju CF faced Kimhae FC in a do-or-die clash.
Currently 15th.
Win jumps them to 13th, safe.
Stadium drew a decent crowd.
Two thousand tops.
Fans desperate to avoid the drop linked arms, belting out chants.
'Jinju! Jinju!
With Nongae's spirit, claim victory!
Jinju! Jinju!'
From the technical area, Jeong-woo bellowed.
"Drop the line! Drop it!"
His shout sent Jinju CF's defenders scrambling back from the center circle to just outside the penalty arc.
Right on cue—
Tweet!
Gimhae lofted a long ball.
Thwack!
Their speedy striker charged goalward.
Thud!
Luckily, the lowered line let a defender head it clear first.
"Whew!"
The manager beside him exhaled in relief, face tense moments before.
31st minute, first half: 0-0.
Gimhae was a third-division powerhouse.
Holding them scoreless was a win already.
But Jeong-woo needed victory today.
"Manager. Time for subs."
"...Already?"
Jo Sung-jun looked displeased.
Kim Seok-tae and others in back piped up.
"What bullshit?"
"Why sub so early if you're picking the lineup?"
"See, Manager? This is why pedigree matters. No-name college punk wasting a sub card!"
They piled on like they'd rehearsed.
Jeong-woo ignored them.
"Look at their wingers."
"Wingers?"
The manager glanced at the pitch, puzzled.
Jeong-woo pointed.
"Opposite-foot wingers in half-spaces. Not staying wide—cutting in, targeting the center."
Gimhae's central attacks were lethal.
Jinju wobbled like leaves in the wind.
Jeong-woo had set the starting XI.
But early subs countered opponent play.
Timing? Irrelevant.
"Pull the attacking mid, slot in a defensive one centrally. Switch from back four to back three—thicken the middle, stretch the flanks wider."
The clueless coaches kept slamming him.
Jealousy.
Manager wavering too.
Jeong-woo stifled frustration, twitching an eyebrow.
"Or sit back and get fired. Guaranteed shellacking without changes now."
"You little—!"
Kim Seok-tae lunged, grabbing his collar.
"Enough!"
"M-M-Manager?"
Jo's roar widened Seok-tae's eyes.
Career-ender.
Manager hated it but respected Jeong-woo's talent.
Plus, eyes locked with the owner in the VIP box, grinding his teeth.
Manager's face mixed anxiety and plea.
"Who do we bring on... you?"
Still side-eyeing to save face. Fine, play along.
Jeong-woo nodded toward one player.
* * *
Attacking mid off, defensive mid on.
First half ended, barely containing Gimhae's attacks.
Second half underway, Jeong-woo burned another sub.
"No way you're subbing him...?"
Manager muttered, baffled.
Jeong-woo's call-up from reserves: 23-year-old dual-citizen Park Chong-ah.
"First-team debut like that? He's from your college, right?"
Kim Seok-tae sneered beside him.
"All that 'pedigree' talk, and you're the same, huh?"
Jeong-woo explained to the doubting manager.
"Gimhae fullbacks cover well... but slow overall. Aggressive too. So, exploit overlaps with speed—penetrate the space."
As Jeong-woo said, Gimhae's fullbacks bombed forward for crosses when wingers cut inside.
Countered with nine-back in the box.
Center-backs pre-swapped: 190cm aerial beasts.
'Lower leagues, more one-trick ponies.'
One-tool: elite in one skill, trash elsewhere.
Jeong-woo rebuilt the XI around positional one-tools.
Central mid: poor short-pass/cover, but long-ball wizard.
'Ironic. Elite lofters usually nail short passes too.'
Why Park Chong-ah.
'Synergy.'
Blazing speed rivaled Ligue 1's young Mbappé.
Zero to do with school ties.
Just learned it via Seok-tae.
"You shameless prick, aren't you embarrassed? Huh? Why no—!"
Jeong-woo brushed past the yapping Seok-tae.
"Nervous?"
Park Chong-ah flinched, tense for the sub.
Jeong-woo slung an arm over his shoulder.
"N-No, sir!"
Jeong-woo grinned at the kid's wide-eyed strain.
"It's fine to be nervous. Debut jitters. Just follow orders. Teammate intercepts in our half? Sprint forward like hell. Ball'll land right at your feet."
Ruffling Chong-ah's hair, he added:
"Chance comes—left foot, near post, low drive. Keeper's balance tilts left habitually."
In minutes, Jeong-woo had clocked the goalie's subtle tic.
Have a great day~
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