A Truly Special Victory (Part 2)
After the match, Manchester City manager Peter Guardian headed straight to the press conference area. The press corps had gathered in a tight cluster, cameras flashing and notebooks at the ready.
Reporters raised their hands one by one and fired questions in rapid succession.
“You’ve gone thirty-one rounds without a single loss. With this Manchester United match now behind us, reports have already declared the title effectively decided. What’s your reaction to that?”
Peter Guardian’s expression softened with a smile. The press had always known this match was never just another six-point contest between the two big rivals—it was the final chapter in the title race. Everyone in the room understood that Manchester City’s path to glory was now clear.
“First, I’m genuinely thrilled about today’s win,” he said. “But the moment I heard the title was sealed, I worried we might let our guard down and actually lose. So we’ve been focusing on each remaining match instead of the finish line.”
“Everyone knows the biggest reason you’re sitting on an undefeated season is Jung Tae-woo. He’s been the backbone of the defense with the fewest goals conceded in the Premier League. But when you look at the man with the biggest contribution, it’s not just him.”
“Hahaha, I can guess what the reporters want to hear,” Peter Guardian replied with a warm chuckle. “Tae-woo has kept us at the top of the league in goals conceded and has carried a massive load toward the undefeated title push. But there’s no single player who deserves the title of ‘biggest contributor.’ Every single one of you has worked harder than ever, and that’s why we’re where we are.”
“Then the question on everyone’s lips: your view of Tae-woo’s goalkeeping is that it borders on impossible. How do you rate his raw talent?”
Peter Guardian paused, a faraway look in his eyes as he recalled the young keeper he had discovered years ago. A goalkeeper who somehow doubled as an outfield striker, who never lost a one-on-one against any forward, who had taken footage from other sports and turned it into devastating football moves overnight.
“He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever seen,” the manager said quietly. “Whether he plays striker, midfielder, or defender, he has the talent to sit in the best position on the pitch. That’s how I’ve always rated Jung Tae-woo.”
He was the kind of player the God of Soccer would love to have. Too much talent for just one person to carry.
And Peter Guardian’s assessment had been exactly right.
***
On the drive home, with the radio playing Gamst’s live stream, Jung Tae-woo was grinning from ear to ear.
[The Gamst Cut just donated 1,000 won]
His phone rang almost instantly. The caller ID showed the streamer’s famous handle.
“You really had to block everything so perfectly just to feel relieved, huh?” Jung Tae-woo said into the phone, voice dripping with mock innocence. “I’ll send you one million won right now.”
“Ah, too much…” he muttered, glancing at the screen. “I do have Gamst’s number, though…”
—Wait, what?
—Are you actually considering this?
—If you call him it’s legendary, bro.
“Haha… yeah, we really are close…”
His finger hovered over the call button. He knew this was a waste of time—Gamst would never pick up—but the temptation was too strong. The broadcast screen filled the car, and Jung Tae-woo saw Gamst at his desk, clearly debating whether to answer.
Every time he picked up the phone, he set it back down. Again and again.
“Well, if I’m going to do this, I might as well do it right.”
“Huh? Where?”
Chan-kyu’s eyes widened in the driver’s seat as he gripped the steering wheel.
“Gamst is live and he just mentioned my name. If I call him he’ll send one million won. But I know he’d never answer, so I’m going to call him first.”
“You did the exact same thing last time and the boss chewed you out.”
Chan-kyu’s voice carried clear worry.
But Jung Tae-woo flashed a playful grin. “Hyung, you never buy me a game console when I beg, but you forgive me when I say sorry. It’s the same principle.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”
With a wicked laugh, he hit the call button.
After all, if he was going to be scolded, he might as well enjoy it.
While the phone rang, the chat window exploded.
—????
—For god’s sake, answer already, what are you doing?
—Must be watching the stream.
—Holy crap.
“Hello, Gamst-hyung—”
“MAN U CUT!!!”
“…”
—Hahahahahaha
—Hahahahahahahaha
“Tae-woo…?”
“Hahaha, hyung, just kidding! I saw you debating on stream so I decided to call.”
“Hmph… then listen carefully for a second.”
Calling the streamer was rude, but picking up at all meant you weren’t missing the mission. True professional energy.
Gamst leaned into the camera, face inches from the lens.
“You really had to block every single thing so perfectly just to feel satisfied, huh~~”
Jung Tae-woo and Chan-kyu burst out laughing in the car.
“Hahahaha, hyung, you nailed the tone!”
“Hmph… Gamst Cut, send the money already.”
“Wait, Gamst.”
“What?”
“You were supposed to be the one calling, not me. Isn’t this a failure?”
[The Gamst Cut just donated 1,000 won]
Exactly! It was Jung Tae-woo who called, not Gamst! Failure!
“No!!!”
Gamst’s scream blasted through the phone.
The chat window detonated with laughter.
—Hahahahahahahaha
—One million won gone in five seconds.
—Tae-woo’s talent is scary.
—This is what real professionalism looks like.
—You should’ve just called without overthinking.
“Ah, really… Tae-woo, if you’d just kept quiet, I would’ve—”
“Hyung, I’m a Manchester City player. I had no choice.”
“Haa… my million won…”
Both Jung Tae-woo and Chan-kyu howled with laughter at the streamer’s defeated sigh.
“Oh well, congratulations on the title. And when you finally win the Premier League undefeated, do it without a single loss, Tae-woo.”
“Of course. If I’m standing in the goal, who’s going to score?”
“You get more tired with every watch.”
“Whoa~ Can you even handle it? I didn’t know my fan club was this huge. You guys are hurting my wallet.”
The fan club, which had started as a small group of high-school admirers because of his looks, now had over 730,000 members.
“Save me, Tae-woo.”
“Maybe next time~”
“Hey!!!”
“Khehe, got it. I’m home now. Gamst, keep the stream going.”
“Alright, Tae-woo. Thanks for calling.”
The call ended. And the next day, the story exploded across every Korean news outlet.
[Jung Tae-woo appears again on Gamst’s stream]
[Tae-woo’s legendary shout: “MAN U CUT!!!”]
[Fan club mention causes explosive backlash]
“I asked you to tell me when something like this happens.”
“Hahaha.”
“Don’t laugh!”
“Yes.”
“Haa… at first I didn’t think you’d turn into such a bunch of troublemakers, Tae-woo.”
Jung Tae-woo gave a sheepish laugh.
“I trust Nuna Ga-young, of course~”
“Hey!”
“…”
After that, he spent thirty full minutes on the receiving end of Ga-young’s scolding.
‘Who on earth said asking for forgiveness is better than permission?!’
***
Manchester City’s undefeated league run continued without pause.
33rd round: Manchester City 2-0 Everton
34th round: Manchester City 1-0 Wolverhampton
35th round: Manchester City 5-0 Brentford
By the time they finished the 35th match, the title was mathematically secured. They were now chasing the even more impossible goal of an undefeated championship.
The 5-0 thrashing of Brentford had been a masterclass in dominance, and all eyes turned toward the next fixture.
36th round: Manchester City vs. Chelsea (with Park Seo-joon as captain)
[36th Round: Another Korean Derby in the Premier League]
[Can Man City maintain their undefeated run through the final three games?]
Everything seemed to be falling into place. Then something strange happened.
Jung Tae-woo’s body suddenly felt off. They had been managing to play every league match in near-perfect condition, but an early-season injury to the goalkeeper position had left them without a reliable backup.
So he had been forced to play every single game alone. And now his body was paying the price.
He couldn’t blame the manager. His recovery was just too perfect—two days of rest and he was back to full strength every time.
During the winter transfer window, when the manager had asked if he would be okay playing through the season, Jung Tae-woo had simply smiled and shown the test results. “I’m fine.”
In other words, that was exactly what he had wanted.
“Cough, cough, cough…”
During training, the manager spotted his condition and sprinted over.
“Tae-woo, what’s wrong?”
“I feel like I have a fever coming on.”
“What? How did this happen…”
“Doctor! Doctor! Quick, check Tae-woo!”
The manager’s face drained of color as he called the team physician.
Players began gathering around, concern written all over their faces.
“Tae-woo, are you okay?”
“No way Tae-woo is sick.”
The doctor team came running at full speed and began examining him.
“He has a fever. You should go to the hospital for proper tests.”
“It’s probably just a cold. I’ll sleep it off.”
The manager gripped his shoulder, voice serious. “Tae-woo, you need to go to the hospital. You’re not planning to ignore my orders, are you?”
“…Understood.”
Eventually he nodded.
His condition was still stable enough for recovery, but he couldn’t ignore the manager’s worried eyes during the most critical moment of the season.
“Good. You’re thinking straight. Doctor, take Tae-woo and do a thorough check.”
“Yes, sir. Don’t worry.”
The doctor reached to help him, but Jung Tae-woo waved him off.
“How many days until the Chelsea match?”
“Two.”
“Plenty. I’ll play.”
But the manager’s face remained grave.
“We’ll wait for the test results first. If it’s a fever, you need to rest. Rest up, Tae-woo.”
‘If I’m not there, who’s going to play goalkeeper?’
“But—”
“Tsk, Tae-woo. This team would have collapsed without you. We never would have challenged for an undefeated title. Just rest. You’ve earned it.”
“…Yes.”
There was no choice. The highest decision-maker in the club had ordered it, and no one could argue.
So the Manchester City vs. Chelsea match went ahead without him.