Chapter 95
Chapter 95
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 95
Chapter Title: This is Bolton Wanderers (5)
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Northeast England, Tyne and Wear, Sunderland.
Sunderland's manager, Corey Johnson, had been in an incredibly good mood lately.
People were even calling him a lucky charm.
Last season, they'd clinched the title on their own merit.
And after the season ended, a Russian billionaire took over the club, sending the team's budget skyrocketing overnight.
But that wasn't all.
"If there's any player you want, bring them in without hesitation. If you need more transfer funds, just let me know anytime."
The Russian owner had said that the very first time they met.
Corey Johnson had put it into action with flying colors, massively expanding the squad in the process.
That was exactly why Sunderland sat at 5th in the Championship right now.
"The media and public opinion keep showering you with praise, Manager. Does it feel real?"
Corey Johnson flashed a bright smile at the radio DJ sitting beside him.
"It feels very real. And I'm just grateful to the fans. They've stuck by us through thick and thin, supporting us, and that's how we've made it here."
With Sunderland's FA Cup third-round clash against Bolton looming the next day, Corey Johnson had stopped by a local radio station in Tyne and Wear.
The host, Lee Evans—one of the Black Cats supporters—kept firing questions with a slightly flushed face.
"Right after promotion to the Championship, Sunderland went on a signing spree! Youth players from the EPL, talents way above Championship level—you brought in a ton of them."
Lee Evans held up two fingers and grinned.
"Six big names just in the summer window alone."
Of course, "big names" in the Championship context.
Corey Johnson nodded along with a smile.
"They heard our fantastic vision and saw it for themselves. No reason for them not to join. And our current standing proves it, doesn't it?"
When Sunderland had first come up to the Championship, experts pegged them for mid-table.
The gap between League One and the Championship was no small thing.
But the power of money was something else.
They'd closed that gap in one go and spent the first half of the season challenging for promotion.
The two kept chatting, tossing in jokes along the way.
After a good while...
Lee Evans brought up the hot topic of the moment.
"You announced your intention to sign Bolton's Owen Pressais. Do you see him as a key addition?"
Corey Johnson nodded without a second thought.
"Absolutely. His two-footed play is monstrous. Especially that performance against Manchester United—it was unreal, worth a fortune."
"But you already have John Burken and Dave Phillips for that position."
"They'll compete. It gives me more options, which helps with squad management. Seasons are long, after all."
Of course, Corey Johnson wasn't planning to start Owen right away.
No matter how good a League One player was, the Championship was a different beast.
'The tempo alone is worlds apart.'
Still, he was an enticing prospect.
Corey Johnson figured he was worth the investment.
As for whether Owen could deliver those quality forward passes and powerful shots from League One...
'Sign him first. If not, sell quick.'
Owen's brief stint in the Championship before was a bonus.
And the main reason for leaking the transfer rumor through media play at this timing? The Bolton match.
'When your star player gets tangled in transfer talk, the whole squad shakes.'
Since he was set on signing him anyway, he wanted to rattle Bolton psychologically before kickoff.
Above all, Corey Johnson was confident.
Bolton would approve the transfer, and Owen would jump at the chance to join Sunderland.
Just the transfer fee alone: £800,000 (12 billion KRW).
No way a cash-strapped club like Bolton would turn that down.
And the wages on offer to Owen blew away what he got at Bolton.
'Plus, we're in the Championship.'
Fighting for promotion, no less.
Bolton was leagues below—in every sense.
All Corey Johnson had to do was wait.
The offer was already in.
"Some fans have fallen head over heels for Owen's play. If he joins... what number do you think he'll get? I love his style personally. Planning to buy his jersey the second sales start."
The host, Lee Evans, seemed to treat the signing as a done deal.
Corey Johnson replied with a wrinkled smile.
"Hmm. I'd give him whatever number he wants, if possible. Can't do 10 or 8—those are Dave Phillips' and John Burken's."
That's when it happened.
Beyond the radio booth, in the control room, a PD listening intently checked his phone for news, then furrowed his brow slightly.
Tap!
He held up his phone screen to the glass partition separating the booth from the control room.
"...Huh?"
Lee Evans, who had been smiling through the segment, glanced over casually—then froze.
"What?"
Corey Johnson, meanwhile, panicked.
In his eyes, shaking with rising anger, he could see the headline on the phone.
['Bolton manager Ma Jeong-woo: "To sign Owen, you'll need at least £7 million (112 billion KRW). In that sense, Sunderland's offer is laughable..."']
* * *
Word that Bolton had rejected Sunderland's bid spread like wildfire.
The Black Cats hoping for Owen's signing were dumbfounded.
- What? £7 million? You got a £7 million player playing in League One? Huh?
- Bolton's owner-manager is clearly money-obsessed!
- Honestly, even if signed, Owen was just bench fodder, right? Didn't even make the bench last season? Bolton's lost it!
- Our club's rich, so they threw out a big number to test... but you messed up. Who buys a League One player for that? Not idiots!
- Better spend it on EPL bottom-table prospects, or guys from Spain/Italy leagues!
As some fans said, a £7 million player was top-tier even in the Championship.
EPL relegation battlers built squads around that valuation.
So Ma Jeong-woo's statement was beyond absurd.
"Damn it! We shouldn't have renewed!"
Agent Michel Wright's face had been beet red from the start.
To Wright, it was Bolton blatantly signaling no intent to sell Owen.
Why else throw out such a ridiculous number?
"We signed a three-year extension, but... sigh!"
Wright was holed up in a Sunderland hotel room in Tyne and Wear, regretting past decisions.
With tomorrow's match ahead, the entire Bolton squad was staying overnight here.
It was Ma Jeong-woo's call.
Given the distance, he'd wrapped up a Bolton interview and brought the team straight here.
To minimize away fatigue.
"Owen. This is all kinds of wrong."
Michel Wright shot up from the sofa, pleading.
Across from him, Owen Pressais sat demurely, eyes gently closed.
To Michel, it looked like Owen was too shocked to speak.
"Don't worry, though. I'll convince the club somehow and get your move done."
Sunderland hadn't backed out yet.
Even if not them, plenty of clubs wanted Owen.
"Where's the owner's room again?"
Michel Wright hurriedly grabbed his coat from the sofa arMad Dog headed for the door.
"This is player murder! Blocking a guy's desired exit like this!"
That's when...
"It's fine."
"Yeah, Owen. I get you're upset... wait, what?"
Michel Wright strode to the door but stopped dead.
Owen slowly opened his eyes.
"Owen?"
Now Michel saw it: Owen looked more serene than ever.
Meanwhile, one of Michel's cheeks twitched.
Somehow, it felt like Owen was about to say something Michel wouldn't like.
"I'm staying with Bolton."
Just as expected.
* * *
Match day.
The Stadium of Light, which held nearly 49,000, was packed with Black Cats in red-and-white stripes.
From before kickoff, they unleashed jeers and abuse at one man.
"Ma, you f***ing dog!"
"You rat! I'll find your house and slash your car tires!"
The Black Cats were this furious for a simple reason.
Not just Ma Jeong-woo's insane transfer demand—he'd also posted this on SNS hours before the game.
['Lucky to face Championship side Sunderland in the FA Cup third round. Playing them lets us gauge how we'll stack up if we hit the Championship next season.']
No issue there.
But the Black Cats exploded at the follow-up.
['Hoping we become friendly rivals fighting for promotion in the Championship with Sunderland next season. :)']
In other words, a sarcastic jab that Sunderland would fail to go up this year.
Minutes later, both teams walked out.
The Black Cats' rage at Ma Jeong-woo didn't fade.
You'd think it'd crush them, but Bolton's players entered the pitch unfazed.
They were used to this abuse by now.
Owen, especially, stepped forward calmly, one foot at a time.
All the while, he recalled his recent talk with Ma Jeong-woo.
'We can't match their offer. Meaning, we don't have the cash to hold you with money.'
Hearing that face-to-face back then, Owen had felt his mind go blank for a moment.
Hurt feelings washed over him.
Was his standing at Bolton really just this much?
But Owen's eyes widened at what came next.
'That's the situation right now. Hate to admit it, but we're a poor club. So how about I show you our vision another way?'
Ma Jeong-woo had grinned and continued.
'That Bolton's growth potential is limitless. And I promise: once we're in a better spot and promoted to the Championship... I'll treat you better than you deserve. So for now, let me prove we're a better team than Sunderland—for you.'
Ma Jeong-woo added with conviction in his eyes.
'Above all, Owen. I don't see you as some small-timer who'd leave for £800,000 (12 billion KRW). You're already worth at least £7 million (112 billion KRW). And that value's only going up.'
At the end, Ma Jeong-woo fired the final shot.
'Plus, their manager sees you as just bench depth. Talk about getting fleeced on purpose. Don't make me laugh. Straight up, you're EPL material. Born with that talent from day one.'
Hearing that, Owen's doubts vanished in an instant.
Replaced by burning ambition.
He wanted to prove it—to this man staring at him with such certainty.
That his talent was exactly as described.
And so...
Beeeeep-!
Clang-!
[GOOOOOOAL! Owen Pressaaaaais-!]
[Just three minutes in, an early opener!]
[43M screamer from outside the box! Insane! The Stadium of Light freezes and shatters in a heartbeat-!]