Is This Even a Team?! (3)

"Catch her. You must catch her no matter what. Grab her by the pant leg when she comes out, do whatever it takes. I'll provide the under-the-table money, so please, just make her a member of the Incheon Devils!"

Song Juhyung, owner of the Incheon Devils, slammed his fist down on the desk again and again, his bald scalp flushed crimson all the way to the crown of his head.

"Why do we have to catch Lee Hana? If I have to spell that out myself, then every single person in this room might as well start packing their bags right now."

The Incheon Devils staff summoned to the owner’s office nodded heavily. The general manager, the head coach, even the team’s ace and A-class superhuman. And the vice mayor dispatched from Incheon Metropolitan City. At least the vice mayor could sit comfortably on the sofa. Anyone lower on the totem pole would have been forced to stand in front of Chairman Song Juhyung like the rest of them.

The owner of a superhuman league club was essentially a quasi-politician, and the local government head whose city housed a team was essentially a quasi-businessman. Ever since the Hunters had been turned into living turrets, where superhumans chose to live had become inextricably tied to votes, local economies, and social issues. The political map had been redrawn. The entire ecosystem of sports capital had flipped upside down.

Superhumans meant money. Corporations followed the scent of profit, politicians followed the scent of votes. The moment their interests aligned, the age of Hunters and monsters ended, the National Assembly acted, and the world changed. It was super-legal—frankly, superhuman—collusion between politics and business. Yeouido was no longer about two-party politics; it had become a constituency-driven arena where governors and metropolitan mayors held more power than assembly members. Companies had stopped building industrial complexes and instead poured money into personal sponsorships, crafting new business models that lured superhumans to settle in specific regions.

So it wasn’t strange at all that the vice mayor from Incheon had shown up to help with the “S-class superhuman Lee Hana recruitment war.”

"Vice mayor."

"Yes, Chairman."

"Where is the mayor right now?"

"He’s waiting near Lee Hana’s apartment—in other words, near Lee Dokyung’s residence. Under the pretext of a public welfare inspection."

Even the mayor was pacing around someone’s house, desperate to land the recruit.

"Listen carefully, all of you. Songdo isn’t filled with only Incheon Devils people right now."

When Chairman Song Juhyung tapped his smartphone toward the large screen, dozens of photographs popped up at once.

"The Seoul Warriors have their general manager and three Gangnam district assemblymen down here. Daegu sent their coach along with the Gyeongbuk governor—they’re walking around arm in arm. See those cars in the hotel parking lot, General Manager?"

"...All twenty-four regions—no, every team in the league has sent people to Incheon. They’re trying to force a contract before official roster registration closes."

"Exactly! They’re planning to camp out here for an entire month!"

The screen was packed with photos of businessmen, politicians, celebrities—every kind of influential figure imaginable.

"...Coach. Do you see that blonde woman? You know who she is, don’t you?"

"She’s a scout from the New York Tyrants. I heard she was quite close to Lee Hana. Business-wise."

"Right. It’s not that Songdo has a lot of foreigners because it’s an international city. They’ve come from overseas too—lots of them."

Domestic and foreign, representatives from every major superhuman league on the planet had gathered in Songdo. The only notable absences were—

"Yoon Jinseo. Our ace, Misty Lady."

"Yes, Chairman."

"In your opinion, are there any Hunters out there right now?"

"Almost none."

The blue-haired woman answered immediately. Incheon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Devils’ ace and A-class superhuman, Misty Lady Yoon Jinseo, spoke in a calm, relaxed tone.

"Everyone’s avoiding the spotlight. They don’t want to be compared to the ‘world’s strongest.’ Even I’m being careful not to get called an ‘A-class auntie who’s twice the age.’"

"Ahem. Who on earth would call you an auntie?"

"Exactly. With this face I still look mid-twenties. Everyone knows women only start counting from thirty anyway."

A brief silence fell over the office at Yoon Jinseo’s words.

"...Anyway, we have to find them. No matter where they go after leaving the house, we must create some point of contact with the Incheon Devils. Above all else…!"

Song Juhyung’s eyes blazed as he made a choking gesture around his own neck.

"We must not anger them under any circumstances…! Understood?!"

Talking about money between father and daughter might sound awkward, but Hana and I are both superhumans and professionals. I may be retired, but Hana is a true pro among pros—the one who claimed the world number one spot.

"Seoul Warriors, Daejeon Eagles, and Incheon Devils. One of these three. What do you think?"

"Sounds good. Matches ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠what I was thinking."

Even if we weren’t speaking as father and daughter but as player and manager, we treated each other with complete respect.

"First of all…"

"Excuse me. The drinks you ordered have arrived."

"Ah, thank you."

"Not at all. Please enjoy your conversation in comfort. The perimeter is under control."

"Thank you, sir."

Even if that conversation happened between a father and daughter wearing sunglasses and masks, drinking coffee in a seminar room the hotel had kindly lent them.

To continue the earlier discussion, there was no need to speak twice about Hana’s ability…

"It’s because it’s your recommendation, Analyst Lee Dokyung. You’ve lived in Korea longer than I have, and you were the one who suggested the New York Tyrants in the first place."

In the sport known as the superhuman league, I, Lee Dokyung, could honestly claim that my eye for talent was not only the best in Korea but the best in the world.

"Honestly, without you I might never have won the World Championship. I was originally leaning toward LA."

"I told you. Their tankers were doping like crazy."

"I didn’t know they were actually on the stuff. And even in New York… I never expected Arcane to explode with that kind of potential. Who could have guessed someone would climb from B-class all the way to S-class?"

"I did."

"Wow, cool. You look even more handsome now."

I could see who would crash and burn and who would skyrocket. That held true whether they were veterans from the Hunter era or newly awakened superhumans who only appeared after monsters had vanished.

They awakened at the perfect time.

If they had awakened before 2020 they would have been forced into the Hunter profession, but now even if you awakened as a superhuman you didn’t necessarily have to join the league. Some fulfilled their military service through the military-affiliated Daehan Heroes, while others became variety stars or influencers.

As for sports… realistically speaking, there were almost no superhumans outside the superhuman league. After all, if someone who could run a hundred meters in two seconds won an athletics gold medal, who would actually value that medal? Even S-class and A-class superhumans refused to compete in regular sports. If those below them tried it, the result would be even more pathetic.

Anyway.

"Let’s get one thing straight first. Right now, Hana, you hold absolute power. The association can’t influence your decision in any way."

"Because the president was kicked out?"

"That’s part of it. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠other part is that all twenty-four clubs basically lynched him."

The Korean Sports Association could survive the public’s fury. But if the government, the business community, and even the superhumans joined that fury, the president would be finished instantly.

"Thanks to you, players can now compete in the KCL without belonging to the Korean Superhuman Association. The whole league is going to shake. People who avoided the league because they hated registering with the association might finally crawl out for the big salaries."

Superhumans had strong egos. Some loved showing off their powers, but others said, I don’t want to become a sports star because of that bastard. The association president had been that bastard.

"Still, you took all of that into account when you narrowed it down to three teams, right?"

"Correct. All three are actively pursuing you, and one of them is being completely blatant about it."

"Which one?"

"Seoul Warriors. They offered fifty billion in salary and sold every draft pick they had."

"They sold the draft rights? Already?"

"They don’t need any 2030 rookies. Landing you is worth more than an entire draft class."

If draft rights were lottery tickets for the future, who would bother scratching off new ones when they already held the winning Powerball ticket?

"Even the salaries leaking off the record average around forty billion."

"Four hundred billion a year?"

"Yes. Still the highest domestic salary."

Was the salary too expensive? Expensive was cheap.

"And when you factor in the government subsidies they’ll quietly provide on the back end… well, that goes without saying."

Besides, contract salary was only the visible part. In a country like Korea, where national sentiment placed a psychological ceiling on superhuman salaries, clubs tried to sweeten the deal with every possible hidden benefit. For example, unfulfilled military service could be completed by playing two years for the military-affiliated Daehan Heroes. Or taxes could be waived. Or family businesses suddenly started winning every local contract.

Was the last one criminal? Even the inspectors or prosecutors sent to investigate would turn a blind eye if they had already bought land in the area.

If Hana joined the Incheon Devils, residents of Songdo would simply smile and close their eyes even if she roared through the streets at night in a sports car. They would call the exhaust noise “pleasant white noise that raises property values.”

"Then among these three…"

"Hm, looks like they’re ready. Let’s go, Hana."

"Yeees~"

The moment we stepped out of the seminar room, a hotel employee approached and quietly guided us down a secluded corridor.

"I’m sorry, both of you. There are other guests inside…"

"It’s fine. It’s not like we rented the entire floor."

Beyond the corridor, past the staff-only passage, the restaurant had a few tables occupied. Men in suits. Middle-aged women in luxurious outfits. Every one of them looked wealthy enough to wear a car as clothing. They had been chatting pleasantly, but the instant they saw us their mouths fell open in shock.

"N-no way…!"

"Shh! Mind your manners…!"

These were presidents and high-ranking executives—the so-called upper crust of society. Yet they stared at Hana as if she were a celebrity. No, that comparison didn’t even fit. They were simply looking at a superhuman.

"Next time you let me know, I’ll clear the whole day for you."

"No, that won’t be necessary."

"Thank you. This way, please."

Following the hotel staff’s guidance, we entered a quiet private room. The table was already elegantly set. I pulled out Hana’s chair and gestured to the empty seat.

"I feel a little bad."

"About what?"

"We only ever eat out in places ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠like this."

Eating in a non-private setting was impossible for a superhuman. Especially for Hana.

"It’s okay. In America I ate at the stadium every single time. After all… I’m a celebrity."

"Not just any celebrity."

Celebrity disease? Absolutely not. The mere fact that the respectable people beyond our room were already whispering I saw Lee Hana would generate headlines—

"…Dad."

"Yeah."

"If you didn’t leak it on purpose, is this a coincidence? A surprise for me?"

Hana subtly pointed toward the entrance. I couldn’t see anything from here, but the powerful energy I sensed made me shake my head firmly.

"This is Songdo’s best restaurant. It has two Michelin stars."

"…Should we pick somewhere more low-key next time?"

"We might have to choose somewhere even stricter about security."

"Um…"

The staff member who had shown us to the room approached with a face on the verge of tears.

"I’m truly sorry. It’s not that, but…"

"Incheon Devils, Misty Lady?"

"…Yes. There are more people with them. The Incheon Devils’…"

"Off the record. Just remember it for yourself."

I tapped my index finger to my lips briefly.

"We haven’t signed anything yet, and we haven’t discussed any contract with them."

"Ah…"

"You may speak. But only after we finish eating. Fifteen minutes max. After that…"

"Should I give an autograph?"

Hana lightly tapped the table.

"Whether we end up signing with the Incheon Devils or the deal falls through, saying ‘Lee Hana sat here’ should still help your business a little."

"Ah…!"

"But I have one condition."

Hana looked at the staff member with a serious expression.

"Are you a fan of mine?"

"Of course!"

"Then I’ll give you an autograph."

Hana flashed a bright smile. The staff member beamed and hurried out.

"Well… I’m the world number one, so my personal time only exists when I’m at home with Dad."

Her smile deepened.

"Dad."

"Yeah."

"It’s been so long since I came back that I forgot."

The professional, businesslike smile returned.

"There’s a saying, right? When someone’s eating… what was it again?"

"Even a dog isn’t disturbed while eating."

"Ah, that’s it!"

She smiled sweetly.

Beyond our private room, heavy footsteps approached. We continued our meal at a leisurely pace.

And roughly two hours later.

In the same seminar room where we had waited while drinking coffee earlier.

"Thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving us your time, Analyst Lee Dokyung. And… Miss Lee Hana!!"

We were greeted by Song Juhyung, owner of the Incheon Devils, who bowed deeply at a perfect ninety degrees.

"Nice to meet you."

I extended my right hand toward him.

"Mr. Chairman."

"……!"

"I’m Hana’s father."

When it came to Hana, it wasn’t simply because I had raised her. I was also officially a retired B-class Hunter. Club owners found me personally uncomfortable.

"Then shall we get straight to business?"