Worthy of an Agent's Interest #2

"Good afternoon."

A neatly dressed man in his mid-thirties stepped inside, and Sister Caterina and Yohan rose from their seats.

He introduced himself as Simone Graco, exchanged greetings with the two of them, made a little small talk, and then got down to business.

"I'm already somewhat familiar with Yohan Lee as a player. I pressed the club for more information, but they drew a hard line — absolutely nothing. After all the time I've spent with Roma… I was a little hurt, honestly. Though I understood it at the same time."

Listening to him deliver the remark with a touch of humor, Caterina and Yohan were mildly surprised.

In the West, given names typically came first and surnames last, so a full name was usually spoken starting with the first name. Simone was different. He had clearly figured out which national identity Yohan held and addressed him according to that country's naming convention.

For Caterina and Yohan, that earned him points. It felt like genuine cultural respect.

Simone showed them a list of the players he had previously represented. It wasn't a long list, but more than half of the names were players Yohan recognized — men who had been active in Serie A. There weren't many big-club stars among them, but it was immediately clear the man had real experience.

Huh?

As Yohan slowly scanned the list with mild curiosity, his eyes lit up. One big name in particular stood out.

Laurentino Melendez.

The man Yohan had met during camp — now retired and working as a defensive coach for Roma's under-8 youth side — had once employed this agent.

"You represented Melendez as well?"

Yohan's eyes went round. Simone answered in a courteous tone.

"Yes. I no longer represent ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him officially, though I still offer him private advice… I used to handle quite a few players at once, but I've gradually reduced the number."

Caterina asked, "May I ask why?"

"Of course. It came down to satisfaction — mine and the players'. Athletes prefer an agent who focuses on them. The more clients you have, the more that attention gets diluted."

"Ah… so you terminated the contracts?"

"We parted on good terms once the contract periods ended. I introduced them to new agents with more experience than I had. I fulfilled my responsibilities, and I can say with confidence that the players who switched were highly satisfied."

"I see… thank you for explaining. If we do sign, would Yohan just continue as he always has?"

"Absolutely. For now he can keep living his life as a player exactly as before. I'll send regular feedback documents to the convent every month — training results, areas for improvement, that sort of thing. At this stage I plan to focus only on performance-related material."

"Doesn't the club already give Yohan feedback on his training?"

"Of course they do, in real time. I simply organize it so that Yohan can review it easily whenever he has a free moment. And I'll pass along any other important news as well."

The more Yohan listened to Simone's explanations, the more his previously skeptical view of agents began to shift. The biggest reason was the man's attitude — respectful enough that even a young boy could feel he was being treated with dignity. Caterina liked him for that as well.

Above all, what finally decided Yohan was the club tenure of the players Simone had represented. The vast majority of them had stayed with a single club for the long haul, and that truly appealed to him.

"He seems like a good person," Yohan said after a long deliberation, once he and Caterina had finished signing the contract.

Caterina smiled brightly in agreement. "He even explained every detail of the contract in a way that was easy to understand, didn't he? Hiring him was the right call."

"It seems that way for now."

"That's a relief. Training again today?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll head back first."

"Yes, Sister."

After the significant event of hiring an agent — significant from Yohan's perspective — he continued to grow. As the season progressed, a couple of injured Roma first-team players came down to rehabilitate, and every one of them returned singing Yohan's praises.

Following Ricci, two more players had taken notice of him. At just fourteen years old, Yohan had already become a core player for the Primavera.

Talent of that caliber naturally attracted reputation — and the attention of national teams.

The first to approach Yohan was the Italian U-17 national team. They contacted Simone around the start of spring, already aware that Yohan held dual nationality, and tried to bring him into the Italian fold by laying out a vision.

Milan's Grasso was already on the squad. The U-17 manager was also working to call up Lazio's Vitale, and he presented a blueprint: a 3-5-2 formation with Yohan slotted beneath the two of them — a triangular attacking unit built around Yohan's versatility and orchestrating ability.

Not long after, the Korean U-17 national team also formally requested Yohan's call-up. They tried to persuade him by promising to apply Roma's recommended methods during both national-team training camps and matches, hoping to bring him to Korea.

Both youth national teams' efforts came to nothing. Roma refused to release him.

Unlike senior national teams, age-group sides were not subject to mandatory release rules. Roma used ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the convenient excuses that Yohan was already playing a heavy match load and that the injury risk was high, and kept him at the club.

There was the option of sending him somewhere to gain experience, but Roma was currently considering promoting him — the first team was riddled with injuries. So every call-up request had to be declined.

Roma ranked among the most injury-plagued clubs in the game. They spent little money, signed injury-prone players on the cheap, and whenever those players went down, the thin squad depth piled physical burden onto the healthy ones. The squad's average age was high, activity levels were low, and the younger players ended up running more — which in turn raised their own injury risk. It all fed into itself.

Ricci, the heart of midfield, had always been notoriously fragile, so Roma's third line spent nearly every season limping from one problem to the next. Over the past three years alone, more than a dozen players had suffered cruciate ligament injuries. At that point, you could almost call the club cursed.

Right now, thirty-four-year-old Lorenzo Lucca was somehow dragging the team up the table with what could only be described as a final blaze of veteran brilliance.

Caught in this vicious cycle, Roma had already pulled two promising Primavera players up and given them debuts. And they were seriously considering promoting Yohan as well — the boy whose growth rate was nothing short of astonishing.

As for Yohan himself, he was receiving the news about the national-team call-ups from Simone.

"Uh… the national team?"

"What? Why?"

"… Me?"

It was one stunning piece of news after another. Yohan fell silent for a while, unable to properly organize his thoughts. Sensing his state of mind, Simone continued in a calm, measured voice.

"…"

"Ah — yes…! I understand."

"I…"

Yohan had never expected to actually face a national-team choice, but he had imagined it since he was small.

Living in Italy, he had never once lost his identity as a Korean. That was how he had been raised.

His father, Mateo, had married a Korean mother and found enormous fulfillment living in Korea. The fact that he had even given his son a Korean-style name said everything. Caterina, Mateo's childhood friend, knew this well — and so, under the convent's care, Yohan had grown up Korean.

A glance at the bookshelf in his room was enough: aside from textbooks, nearly everything was in Korean. Linguistically, Korean felt more natural to him, and every nun at the convent spoke to him in Korean.

He couldn't call himself a pure-blooded Korean. But he wasn't fully Italian either. If you weighed the proportions of his identity, Korea tipped the scale — and his deliberation over the national team did not take long.

"No. Korea."

"Thank you for letting me know."

"Hmm… if I say I want to go, would the club allow it?"

"Then… I'd like to request that, barring special circumstances, they allow me to join the national team. Should I go to the club and say that myself?"

"Ah — yes."

Yohan hung up and stretched out on his bed, legs extended. Having an agent meant he received news he never would have known about before, and the sense of focused care felt quietly good. Hiring Simone had been an excellent decision.

Thinking that, Yohan felt an instinctive certainty that something significant was drawing closer.

Is this really happening?

The national team, and the possibility of first-team training. Both felt slightly unreal — enough to leave him half-doubting — and yet everything was moving so fast.

He was nervous, but he had not the slightest intention of turning down a new challenge. He would work even harder. To get closer to his dream.

As always, Yohan stoked his competitive fire and steadied his breathing.