Seems He Was Hiding His Circumstances
Meanwhile, at the same hour.
Gong Je-hyeon had been trailing after Jin Gyeo-wool when he felt a hand settle on his shoulder. He turned his head.
"Ah. Player Jang Jae-hong?"
"Shh."
"Oh. Yes, sir. What is it?"
Before even a moment of silence could settle, Gong Je-hyeon's praise tumbled out of his mouth — something about how well Jae-hong had played this season, as if he refused to let the quiet linger.
"I was thinking of making you an offer."
"Uh… an offer?"
An offer from a pro player — to someone who was nothing more than an amateur? What could he possibly have to propose?
Gong Je-hyeon fixed his gaze on Jang Jae-hong, brow furrowed in confusion.
"Want to come in as Falcon's sub mid laner?"
Had he just heard that right?
For a second, Gong Je-hyeon's brain spun uselessly, unable to process the words.
"…. Uh. Me? You're talking about me?"
When Gong Je-hyeon finally clawed his reason back and asked again, Jang Jae-hong smiled faintly and repeated himself.
"Yes. I'd like to bring you in as Falcon's sub mid laner next year."
Didn't offers like this usually come through a coach, a manager, or an agency?
He found it strange that Jang Jae-hong was delivering this in person, but Gong Je-hyeon showed interest all the same.
After all, wasn't Jang Jae-hong the man who'd stood at the center of every CCK conversation this year?
Next year it might be Jin Gyeo-wool — but for 2018, Falcon's top laner Jang Jae-hong, the so-called storm transfer student, had built a reputation in a single debut year that put most established stars to shame.
And that man wanted him. The same way Jin Gyeo-wool had, just a few months ago.
"Three hundred million won a year. How's that sound?"
Hearing a figure that absurd, Gong Je-hyeon's eyes didn't even go wide — they just kept blinking furiously.
"Uh… ahaha. You're joking, right? Three hundred million? We're amateurs who might not even make it as trainees yet."
A salary of three hundred million was the kind of money you only saw if a player dragged their team to a championship in their debut year. Even without a title, you'd need at least a runner-up finish.
Yeah — three hundred million was the sort of paycheck someone like Jang Jae-hong himself might command.
"What does that have to do with anything? I saw potential in you, Player Gong Je-hyeon. With your skill, you're worth three hundred million. I'll stake my name on that."
Gong Je-hyeon looked straight into Jang Jae-hong's eyes.
He needed to know whether what he was hearing was truth or a lie.
And in that moment, something familiar flickered in those eyes.
There's something in his eyes…
Just as he had once seen a devil in Jin Gyeo-wool's pupils, looking into Jang Jae-hong's eyes revealed an angel.
Judging by everything the guy did in the league, a devil would have made more sense — so why an angel? The suspicion barely had time to form before the greedy player in front of him pressed in again.
"Three hundred million not enough? Shall we make it four?"
"Excuse me?"
"I'm kidding. Honestly, four hundred is a bit much, right?"
"Yes, yes! That's honestly way too much."
But three hundred million…
Three hundred million would cover Mom's surgery and Dad's debts with money left over…
Nothing had been properly discussed with the front office yet. Even so, a number like three hundred million was more than enough to shake Gong Je-hyeon's resolve.
Roughly two hundred fifty million — that was what he needed. The grinding family situation he had never once mentioned to Jin Gyeo-wool.
If he kept faith with her and followed her to whatever team she joined, he wouldn't be tasting luxury like this anytime soon.
Who in their right mind would pay three hundred million for an unproven rookie? A hundred million would already be generous.
And yet Jang Jae-hong was calmly offering three hundred. Where that confidence came from, Gong Je-hyeon couldn't begin to guess.
But the sincerity in those eyes was real. It felt almost exactly like the sensation of seeing straight through to Jin Gyeo-wool's core.
Trust me.
Follow me.
And I'll give you everything you want.
That was what the angel in Jang Jae-hong's eyes seemed to say.
"Well, I know you can't decide on the spot."
"Ah… yeah. It's not like I've even seen a contract or anything."
"Here."
With practiced ease, Jang Jae-hong asked for Gong Je-hyeon's phone number.
Once he had the contact, he offered a neat, polished smile.
"I'll be in touch soon. I'd love to hear a yes."
Jang Jae-hong gave a light handshake and was about to leave when a voice rang out from behind Gong Je-hyeon.
"Hey, Gong Je-hyeon? What are you doing over there?"
It was Jin Gyeo-wool.
Fortunately, a pillar blocked the view — Jang Jae-hong was still out of sight.
He mouthed Talk later! and slipped away in a hurry.
"Yo, what are you doing?"
"Huh. Noona. What's up?"
"I asked what you're doing. Why are you standing around here by yourself looking lost?"
"Ah, nothing. Just checking out the hotel."
His eyes darted around until they landed on a restaurant that looked decent enough.
"There! That place looked pretty good!"
Jin Gyeo-wool stared at him like he'd lost his mind.
"Dude, we ate like an hour ago. You got a beggar living in your stomach or what?"
"What, you think every beggar just eats nonstop? That sounds kinda messed up, noona."
Gong Je-hyeon pushed back harder than usual, face twisting. Even Jin Gyeo-wool looked a little startled.
"Yeah, well. Fair enough, I guess."
"……. Ah."
Realizing a beat too late that he'd snapped at her, Gong Je-hyeon immediately shoved his head toward her.
"Sorry, noona. Here."
"For what."
"You're gonna pull my hair, right?"
"…. Do you think I just yank people's hair whenever I feel like it?"
Wait. Was this not the timing?
Gong Je-hyeon scratched his head vigorously and lifted his face again. Jin Gyeo-wool looked faintly embarrassed as she offered an apology of her own.
"This might be a dumb question, but… is your family situation kind of rough? Or something?"
Should he tell her? Or not?
That sticking with her would have let him make a lot of money eventually.
That he'd first approached her less to become a player and more to make her his girlfriend and bleed her for cash.
That he'd scraped together every last won of his recent paycheck for his mom's hospital bills and the interest on his dad's debt.
…Yeah. He couldn't say any of it.
Gong Je-hyeon kept his head half-bowed, face apologetic.
"It's nothing to worry about."
As if determined never to let his darkness show, he brightened his expression and steered the conversation away.
"Anyway, aren't you a little curious about that place? Want to order a few things and try it?"
"…You say that like you're the one paying."
"C'mon. Noona's gonna treat me anyway."
"Well, yeah, but saying it that bluntly kind of pisses me off."
As if she'd been waiting for the cue, Jin Gyeo-wool's hand shot out and seized a fistful of Gong Je-hyeon's hair.
"Aaah!"
Somehow it felt comforting. Being caught like this seemed to scrub the chaos clean out of his head.
Three hundred million…
Jin Gyeo-wool's attachment to the team ran deep. If she wanted, she might even try to turn this whole squad into a pro organization as-is.
But Gong Je-hyeon needed money. A lot of it. And he needed it now.
His parents could collapse from exhaustion any day. Before that happened, he had to earn — and earn big.
In a capitalist society, chasing money wasn't something you could call wrong. But what about Jin Gyeo-wool?
Would she brand him a traitor for joining Falcon on a massive salary?
Or would she understand that circumstances had left him no choice?
Hair still clenched in her grip, he let himself be dragged toward the restaurant he'd pointed out earlier and asked her outright.
"Noona. Think I could pull two hundred fifty million in my first year?"
The answer that came back was ruthlessly objective.
"First year, hard to say. But second year? Yeah, you could."
"…How are you so sure?"
"Because the first year's for proving yourself — not much you can do about that. But if you sweep every trophy that year, problem solved, right? Two hundred fifty million is nothing. Play it right and you could hit four hundred."
How could she talk about sweeping every trophy like it was already a done deal?
There it was again. Through Jin Gyeo-wool's eyes, the devil inside her started to show.
What the hell is with these people…
Why did both Jin Gyeo-wool and Jang Jae-hong speak with such absolute confidence about things that only belonged in another world?
For Gong Je-hyeon, who barely scraped together enough to eat day to day, the frustration boiled up hot.
"What if I need two hundred fifty million right now?"
"Then you go overseas."
"…China?"
"China or North America. They'll throw money at you."
Living abroad would be hard, sure — but so what? They paid well.
Gong Je-hyeon's eyes snapped open at her words.
Even going overseas, three hundred million would be a stretch. But Jang Jae-hong had said he could offer that much for a domestic team.
So the rumors about his family swimming in money were true after all.
Without bothering to ask him, Jin Gyeo-wool had already ordered a few dishes. She looked at him.
"Why are you so hung up on two hundred fifty million all of a sudden? Your family in debt or something?"
It was always like this.
Jin Gyeo-wool never gave much thought to how her questions landed.
An ordinary girl would never ask about someone else's household finances so casually.
Had she really sold her soul to a devil?
…She's just rich. Comfortable. That's all it is.
People with money tended to live easy lives. Unlike ordinary folks who worried about tomorrow, they barely knew what daily inconvenience felt like.
"And if we are? You gonna pay it off for me?"
He said it out of pure spite, then immediately felt ridiculous for the words leaving his mouth.
This went past a temporary absence of conscience — this was the kind of thing that earned you a scolding from your own mother.
No matter how much money someone had, who on earth paid off two hundred fifty million for a total stranger?
Yeah, I've lost it. Gong Je-hyeon cursed himself and squeezed his eyes shut.
Whatever she threw at him, he'd take it.
But Jin Gyeo-wool had never seen him look that serious before — and having once known poverty so sharp it could tear you open, she couldn't help but feel the weight of what he was carrying.
"Let me think about it."
"…Huh?"
Gong Je-hyeon's eyes went round with genuine shock.
Clearly not the answer he'd been bracing for.
He'd probably expected her to grab him by the hair, or snap at him to stop talking crazy.
After all, even rich people weren't running charities — tossing around hundreds of millions on a whim simply wasn't possible.
"No, hang on — you can't just answer like that, can you?"
He was the one who'd thrown it out there in a fit of pique, and now he was asking if that wasn't a little much. Jin Gyeo-wool snorted in disbelief.
"You floated it first, and now you're backing out? So what's the actual situation?"
But Gong Je-hyeon still couldn't bring himself to lay out his family's circumstances. He already leaned on her financially more than he should, and his conscience stung too hard.
He never should have said anything.
Gong Je-hyeon scrambled to take it back and change the subject.
"Situation? There's no situation. I was just talking."
"…What?"
"Just a friendship test, you know? Checking how much Commander Noona actually thinks of me as a teammate~ That kind of thing."
Jin Gyeo-wool's face twisted hard.
This time the hair-pull was definitely coming. Gong Je-hyeon squeezed his eyes shut again — but his hair only swayed gently in the cool air-conditioning breeze.
"You really know how to pick your jokes."
The way her expression softened — as if to say why make people worry over nothing — left Gong Je-hyeon no choice but to pull out his phone camera and snap a picture.
"Hey. You just take people's faces like that?"
"You looked genuinely warm just now. Wanna see?"
"Let me look."
It had come out well, no question.
Even when she tried to hide her personality, Jin Gyeo-wool's face usually carried a faint chill — but for one miraculous moment, full spring had bloomed across it.
"Can I post this on my Insta?"
"Who posts other people's pictures on their own SNS?"
"There's no law saying you can only post yourself, right? My friends keep asking what you look like in real life anyway."
"A photo isn't real life, you know."
Apparently she didn't mind a little face time. Jin Gyeo-wool laughed and waved him off — do whatever.
"Oh right. Come to think of it, you don't do SNS, noona?"
"Where would I find the time? Don't you know Coach Faker's famous line? SNS is a waste of time. And pro gamers are basically public figures — celebrities. What if you slip up and say something stupid?"
He'd only asked if she used SNS, and he'd gotten five lectures back. Give an inch, get a mile — that was the phrase for this exact moment.
"Hey! What, you think I go around saying weird stuff on SNS?"
Truth was, he barely had anything worth bragging about, so his Instagram barely had any photos at all. But he couldn't quite bring himself to admit that, so he just mumbled.
"Or I'll send you this one and you post it on your Insta. And take one picture with me. I'll put that on mine."
He really did have energy for the dumbest things.
Jin Gyeo-wool almost told him to go practice instead, then swallowed it.
This bastard's getting under my skin… for real.
The loaded things Gong Je-hyeon had said kept nagging at her. She leaned across the table and pushed her head into the camera frame.
She'd thought he was the one player who needed the least emotional management — just a bright, cheerful kid. Turns out she'd been completely wrong.
He was the one carrying the deepest darkness in the Winter Army. The one who'd been working hardest to look like he was fine.