Crazy Guy and the Good-Looking Guy
Manchester City had signed me before the transfer window closed, yet the incoming wave of players refused to stop.
[Manchester City successfully recruits the Flamenco defender Castillo, the wall from the Philippines] [They lured the brawler Guerrero from River Plate and the sniper Sanchez from Penarol] [With Peter Guardian at the helm, the club rebuilt its future by signing young talents like me, Castillo, Guerrero, and Sanchez]
The newspapers ran the story across the front pages, and local fans suddenly had something to believe in for the new season.
“Doesn’t this mean we’re gonna win? Hahaha!”
“Hey Jace, Peter Guardian always knows what he’s doing. And you didn’t even see his goalkeeper interview? We’re basically done.”
“Hoo ha, that cocky guy’s uniform would look sick, right?”
“Yeah, let’s go buy it!”
The fans’ excited chatter spilled out into the streets.
Hope and expectation wrapped around the entire city like a warm blanket, but I was finally making my way toward the Manchester City training ground for my very first session there.
“Tae-woo, ugh… now I’m the one who’s nervous. You good?”
From the driver’s seat, Manager Chan-kyu asked.
“Just do what I do, right?”
‘There’s no reason for me to be nervous.’
Among the current squad, I probably had the longest football career of anyone. If I got tense just because it was my first training, I’d be laughing at the gods.
‘That guy would actually say something to me. He’s gonna gamble away all those precious divine points?’
Ah, the guy driving right now is the one who became my manager after Eun Ga-young recommended him—Chan-kyu, the elite who handles everything from cooking and driving to housekeeping, studying, and keeping my schedule clear so I can focus only on football.
‘He even went to Harvard.’
I still didn’t know why a Harvard grad was running my life, but the moment I met him the chemistry had already hit maximum.
“Hyung, what are we doing for dinner after training today?”
Chan-kyu smiled as he answered.
“I’m grilling your favorite steak tonight. First-training celebration dinner.”
“Chuh, even better if there’s beer involved.”
I joked.
If I had to pick one bad thing about becoming Jung Tae-woo, it was that I couldn’t drink alcohol.
‘When I’m eating chicken I have to drink cola instead of beer. The feeling I can’t even put into words. And when I eat sashimi I can’t touch soju either.’
“Ugh, you’re still in high school. When you’re legal we’ll drink together,” Chan-kyu scolded like a proper adult.
While chatting with Chan-kyu, the Manchester skyline slid past the window.
“We’re here, Tae-woo. Stay calm… and if anyone tries any racial crap, you tell me right away, okay?”
Sincere worry laced his voice.
Of course things were better than before, but some people still didn’t know any better.
“Don’t worry, hyung. I’m Jung Tae-woo. I’ll shut that nonsense down with pure skill.”
‘Da-min worried about the same thing last night—’
“Tae-woo, if anyone at the training ground bullies or discriminates against you, you tell me right away.”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you. But what if I do? You gonna punish them yourself?”
“…I’ll cut it off.”
Thinking of Da-min made me smile without realizing it.
‘How can she be this cute… I miss her.’
I stepped out of the car and looked up at the Manchester City training ground.
‘I’m back, City. Bow down.’
The God of Soccer, who once ruled as the king of Manchester City in another world, had returned to this world to become the legend of the club.
“…Hah, that was kinda cheesy.”
“Hyung, I’ll be back in a bit.”
* * *
After saying goodbye to Chan-kyu, I headed for the main gate. Every detail of the familiar training-ground landscape felt like an old friend I hadn’t seen in years. The sight warmed my chest.
That was when a man who looked young but carried the build of a bear approached me. Dreadlocked, striking face, and a grin that said trouble.
“Hey~ Is this the right spot for Manchester City’s training ground?”
‘Ah, there you are.’
One of the three new signings alongside me, known as the brawler—Guerrero. The player nicknamed “Warrior” in Spanish. The same name that showed up in the novel.
‘Even the nickname fits. Honestly, he’s just a crazy guy.’
Same vibe as Lee Tae-yang.
His wild stories from the novel were endless, but here were a few highlights.
He’d signed with Barcelona, then suddenly jumped ship to Real Madrid while the contract was still unsigned. In his first interview he dropped the legendary line: “Barcelona wasn’t cool enough, so I didn’t go.”
Then in the El Clásico—the fiercest derby in football—he ran straight at the Barcelona fans, flipped the bird, stuck out his tongue, and when they asked what he was thinking he said, “Some gross-looking guy was cursing me out. So I cursed him back. No, double. I always do everything double. And that guy… well, I’m hot, so he probably didn’t mind.”
Just remembering made my jaw drop.
‘Why the hell did this crazy guy end up at Manchester City?’
He was the player the novel said transferred to Real Madrid.
‘Is this the butterfly effect coming back to bite me?’
I stared at the laughing maniac and shook my head.
‘Damn, this guy is the one who transferred to Man U after playing for Man City.’
“Hey~ How long am I supposed to wait for you? Answer me already.”
‘Hah, I don’t even know.’
“Ah, the training ground’s right here. Let’s go in together. I just transferred too, so…”
“Hahaha, I know, bro. I watched your Olympic highlights—you were on fire!”
So I walked into the training ground with Guerrero.
“Looks like everyone’s here already,” Coach Peter Guardian said.
The Manchester City players and coaches were waiting on the pitch exactly as he’d promised.
“Whoa, that’s the guy who roasted Man U in the interview.”
“Hot as hell.”
“Next to him… looks manly.”
“You look exactly like him?”
“What the heck?”
The squad muttered among themselves.
‘Guess roasting Man U screwed up their first impression.’
Their faces showed curiosity mixed with caution, but no outright hostility.
One player, though, was openly glaring at me.
‘That’s Ederson.’
The tallest player on the team stared at me with pure hostility. I couldn’t miss it.
‘As if staring changes anything. You’re still just a backup. You should’ve prepared better.’
“Welcome! I’m Guerrero, the new legend of Manchester City. Just follow my lead. If it gets hard, tell me. I’ll slow down a little. Hahaha!”
‘Whoa, damn. This guy is even crazier than I imagined. I thought the author only wrote crazy characters.’
Guerrero’s arrogant speech froze the entire training ground.
“Easy, easy. Everyone, calm down.”
Peter Guardian stepped forward to mediate.
“Castillo, Sanchez, come forward and introduce yourselves.”
The two players walked out between the others.
“I’m Castillo, the central defender who transferred from Flamenco. It’s an honor to join Manchester City, and I’ll work hard.”
Castillo gave a crisp, professional greeting in perfect English.
Beside him, Sanchez bowed his head slightly and spoke softly.
“I’m Sanchez. Nice to meet you all.”
Their contrasting styles—Castillo confident and bold, Sanchez quiet and reserved—were instantly clear.
After Guerrero’s over-the-top introduction, the squad naturally clapped. The applause carried a clear “Thank goodness we got normal teammates” vibe.
“Next is you, Tae-woo. Introduce yourself.”
I scanned the faces.
Some players I didn’t know, some I’d only seen on TV and found disappointing…
“I’m Jung Tae-woo from Korea. As a goalkeeper I’ll keep the net safe.”
‘Right now I’m just a teammate.’
“What? You’re actually normal? In the interview you were burning up, bro.”
Guerrero tried to tackle me from the side, but I ignored him.
‘Wait… does this guy even realize he’s the crazy one?’
Even the “official crazy character” in the novel seemed calmer than Lee Tae-yang.
‘He doesn’t even know he’s the crazy one.’
* * *
Pre-season was critical for every footballer, but for incoming players it carried extra weight.
Simple reason: the players who’d already been here were used to the coach’s system and the team tactics. The new guys had to learn everything from scratch—how to breathe with their new teammates, how to read the tactics.
That made pre-season training even more important, and the squad threw themselves into it with double intensity.
Peter Guardian watched his players push through the drills and smiled with genuine satisfaction.
‘The new signings are all settling in perfectly.’
Of course I would—I’d been told to. Yet I was outshining expectations, and Castillo and Sanchez blended seamlessly with the veterans too. Even the one I worried about most—Guerrero—looked surprisingly good.
“Chahahaha! You’re doing great! Now stop this one!”
Guerrero’s booming voice echoed across the pitch.
Watching him mesh with the others, Peter Guardian’s eyes lit up with a quiet possibility: maybe this season Manchester City could actually shake things up.
Of course, perfect rhythm wasn’t there yet.
“Hey~ That’s not it! Pass it to me next time!”
“What?!”
The players started arguing, and Guardian raised his voice.
“Hey, you two—stop fighting and focus on training!”
This was exactly the natural friction that came with merging new team members. Coach firmly believed the small clashes would only make the squad tighter in the long run.
“This season is going to be awesome.”