The Final Mission: 100 vs 5 Soccer Showdown!
The bus hummed smoothly along the winding road, the kind of quiet ride that let everyone unwind after hours of scripted chaos in the studio.
After what felt like an eternity, the vehicle finally slowed to a stop. The PD stepped up to the front of the bus, microphone in hand, and announced with a voice full of theatrical flair, “Everyone, we’ve arrived at the last mission location!”
One by one, the cast members filed out, their feet crunching against the gravel as they stepped into the bright afternoon sun.
Straight ahead lay a small futsal pitch, its artificial turf glowing under the relentless sunlight that poured down like a spotlight. Twin goalposts stood sentinel at each end, welcoming the group with crisp white lines that seemed to challenge them right away.
“Before we dive into today’s real soccer match, shall we play one last mini-game?” the PD suggested, eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Sure, why not?” Yoo Jae-seung replied enthusiastically, clapping his hands. “If we win this, we get two items? That sounds way too easy. This mission is—”
The PD cut him off with a knowing laugh, his eyes narrowing in that way that always signaled something unexpected was coming. “Hoo hoo… maybe it will. Come on out, little ones!”
“Little ones?”
From the building right beside the pitch, a wave of young boys burst out like a tidal wave—dozens, maybe even over a hundred of them, all in their elementary school uniforms, faces flushed with excitement as they raced toward the bus.
“Waaaaah!”
“The name of this mini-game is Hundred-versus-Five Soccer Battle!” the PD declared with a dramatic flourish.
“Wait, are we really supposed to play against a hundred kids?” Park Seo-joon groaned, his voice cracking with disbelief. “That’s insane!”
The entire group erupted into stunned murmurs, the kind of collective panic that spread like wildfire. The PD, however, just grinned like the Cheshire Cat, his laughter bordering on unhinged. “Exactly. You’ll each pick five players and face off against these hundred kids in a three-point soccer match. Win, and you’ll get special items that make everything else feel like a joke. Oh, and Jung Tae-woo, you’ll be playing a different position—forward, not goalkeeper.”
“What? Hold on a second,” Lee Kwan-soo shouted, waving his arms dramatically. “Why can’t Tae-woo play goalkeeper?”
“Because if he does, the game might never end!” the PD shot back, deadpan.
“No way, this is just rigged to make us lose!”
“No chance that’s true,” the PD replied with a smug wink. “All these hundred kids are soccer club members pulled straight from their respective elementary schools. We brought them here so they could learn from someone like you, Jung Tae-woo. After all, you’re famous for scoring from the forward position, right?”
“This is going to be rough…” Jung Tae-woo muttered to himself, already feeling the weight of the decision settle in. Playing goalkeeper would be a breeze—he had world-class reflexes and no problem sweeping balls from anywhere. He could even score an occasional lucky goal if needed. But switching to forward against a hundred energized kids? One mistake and he’d be limping off the pitch, and the tabloids would have a field day with the headline “Star Mission Star Injured in Embarrassing Loss.”
“These PDs are truly sadistic,” he whispered to the others.
“Too much of a gap,” Kim Jeong-guk admitted, scratching his head. “If I’m going to win, I’ll have to launch passes high and head them in. Shooting risks injury, so maybe one of us big guys should play.”
“Tall players first,” Yoo Jae-seung agreed, grinning. “That makes sense.”
Soon enough, the team lineup was set: Kim Chul-min, the towering 205-centimeter basketball star; Lee Kwan-soo, the “Long Legs” actor known for his dramatic flair; Kim Jeong-guk, the gym-obsessed soccer lover; and, of course, Jung Tae-woo himself alongside Yoo Jae-seung.
Of course, since this was still a variety show, the inevitable pre-match interview with the kids was part of the script.
“Hello, friends!” Yoo Jae-seung called out cheerfully, waving to the crowd.
“Hellooooo!” the hundred kids replied in unison, their voices ringing out like thunder.
“You’re going to face off against our five players in soccer. Are you ready?”
“We’re ready!” one boy shouted with a voice that could have woken the dead.
“Wow, that was a perfect ‘We’re ready!’” Yoo Jae-seung said, striding over to the boy with a friendly smile. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Yoo Seung-min from Poongwol Elementary School, Class 1, Grade 3!”
Yoo Jae-seung nodded, still smiling. “Poongwol Elementary? Jung Tae-woo played there too. Do you know him?”
Yoo Seung-min’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “Yes! He played really well during the Olympics!”
“Haha, really now?” Yoo Jae-seung glanced back at Jung Tae-woo with a playful smirk. “What about you, Tae-woo? What’s he like?”
Jung Tae-woo was stunned. Yoo Seung-min… the genius midfielder from the original novel. The kid who won the U-20 Golden Ball at sixteen and signed with Real Madrid. But he was on Argentina’s team, not South Korea’s. He had to leave Korea because of some corruption scandal and the coach’s issues…
“He’s great,” Jung Tae-woo replied smoothly, flashing a genuine smile toward the camera. “Seeing his juniors love soccer as much as he does fills me with joy. I hope he and I can play together at the World Cup one day.”
I really need to visit Poongwol Elementary again. The coach there was a nightmare—backroom deals, favoritism, the works. I barely escaped, but I had to remember for later. Still, it’s lucky I remembered. I’ll protect this kid with everything I have.
Jung Tae-woo watched Yoo Seung-min bouncing around with pure delight, his heart swelling with quiet determination. This time, let’s win the World Cup together, Seung-min.
***
The whistle blew, and the game exploded into life. Yoo Seung-min’s play was nothing short of magic.
While the other kids chased the ball in a frantic pack, he moved like he had read the entire field before the ball even touched it. His passes were pinpoint accurate, his control flawless, and every so often he’d pull off moves that looked like they belonged in a professional match.
“Oh no!” Yoo Jae-seung yelped in despair.
Yoo Seung-min had already slipped past him with a clever Marseille turn and was sprinting forward like a streak of lightning.
That talent is this obvious, yet they still send him to another country for money…? It’s criminal.
“Yoo Seung-min just went past Yoo Jae-seung with a Marseille turn!” the PD’s commentators exploded in excitement.
“Is this kid even in first grade?”
Jung Tae-woo planted himself right in front of Yoo Seung-min, blocking his path completely. What now?
He wanted to test the kid’s limits—to see just how much talent could overcome everything else. The secret behind the U-20 victory, the move to Real Madrid, the life that had been rewritten by corruption and desperation.
“Whoa! Yoo Seung-min passes straight to Jung Tae-woo without hesitation as he blocks the path!” the commentators shouted.
“Tae-woo became a decoy!”
“Seung-min is amazing!”
“Hehe, thank you!”
And just like that, Yoo Seung-min zipped past him again in a blur.
Most kids idolized strikers because scoring felt flashy and rewarding. But Yoo Seung-min wasn’t chasing glory for himself. He understood teamwork even at his age, choosing the right option every single time.
“Hey, Tae-woo! What are you doing over there? Get over here!” Kim Jeong-guk yelled.
Jung Tae-woo sprinted after the ball, but the sheer number of kids swarming the area left him no room to breathe. Eventually, the Star Mission team lost 3-0 in the most humiliating defeat imaginable.
“The winner of this match is the Children’s Legion team!” the PD announced triumphantly.
The moment the words hit, the pitch transformed into a sea of pure joy. The kids’ cheers pierced the sky as they hugged and leaped around each other in pure happiness.
Soon the children were waving goodbye and heading home, leaving the cast members standing awkwardly in the middle of the empty field.
“Ugh, this is so disappointing,” Yoo Jae-seung groaned. “That item was a time-increase coin, but they just won’t give it to us.”
“It was a mission where they said they didn’t want to hand out items, wasn’t it?” Kim Jeong-guk muttered, clearly frustrated.
Jung Tae-woo felt the weight of the show’s true nature settle over him. These participants suffered, and the producers turned that pain into entertainment. That’s the reality of Star Mission.
“Still, I have one more coin, so maybe I can try again?” he suggested lightly.
“You have to. If this keeps happening, I’ll expose you on the message boards,” Kim Jeong-guk threatened, but the PD just laughed it off.
“Alright, enough jokes. The name of today’s final soccer mission is…”
The entire cast leaned in, every eye locked on the PD.
…
…
…
“I’ll announce it in sixty seconds,” the PD said with a mischievous grin.
“What the—?”
“Kwan-soo, let’s go show the PDs an example,” Yoo Jae-seung suggested with a wink.
“You bet! Let’s do this, Jae-seung hyung!”
“It’s a joke! I’m really going to announce—”
The PD’s laugh was pure mischief. “The name of this soccer mission is ‘Elephant Trunk Soccer Dart’!”
“Elephant trunk? You have to factor in my age when you say that, hyung! It’s old-man attack!” Kim Jeong-guk protested.
“Old-man attack? I think you mean old-man respect,” Jung Tae-woo corrected with a straight face.
“Aah, you know exactly what I meant! Who are you rooting for right now?” Lee Kwan-soo wailed.
Jung Tae-woo leaned in and whispered just loud enough for the others to hear, “Kwan-soo hyung, he’s only pretending to be stupid for the show. He’s not actually stupid. Really!”