The Girl in the Stands, and the Black Hole
Alcheon Stadium in Gyeongju—one of the sacred grounds of Korean soccer. The heat of the Hwarangdaegi National Youth Tournament burned hotter than the asphalt rising from the earth. Hundreds of teams, thousands of parents, and scouts flooding in from every corner of the country tangled their gazes until the stadium seethed like a giant furnace. At the peak of midsummer, cicadas drilled into eardrums while the air hung thick with the scent of scorched grass, sweat, and an invisible, clammy tension.
In one corner of that chaotic stands, beneath a large parasol raised against the sun, sat a girl. Legs longer than most her age crossed, she flipped through a magazine with indifferent fingers—Han Se-hui, Ma Gang-cheol’s eternal partner and the girl who would one day awaken as Korea’s most venomous agent. She fanned herself without pause, making no effort to hide her irritation.
“Ugh, seriously. Jimin, can’t I just leave? The sweat stink, the shouting… I can’t tell if this is a soccer field or a marketplace.”
Se-hui scowled, white forehead beaded with sweat, her fan slicing the air with nervous energy. She normally loathed soccer, yet she had come all the way to Gyeongju for one reason only: her desk-mate Ma Gang-cheol, who had been lying in a hospital bed after an accident days earlier, only to suddenly change the look in his eyes and start talking like some middle-aged man. Why she had to waste her golden weekend under this blazing sun for him was beyond her comprehension.
“Hey! Han Se-hui, are you even from Gyeongju? The Hwarangdaegi is happening in our own backyard and you’re not watching? Today’s finally your partner Gang-cheol’s match! Look over there—did you see him getting off that limousine bus? He looked like a total celebrity!”
Her friend Jimin rattled her cheering sticks with theatrical excitement. Se-hui snorted in disbelief. To her, soccer was nothing more than twenty-two kids swarming a single ball like beasts—a primitive, strategy-free contest of pure stamina. The sight of muscular boys crashing into one another and gasping for breath sat miles outside her aesthetic tastes.
“What’s so special about Ma Gang-cheol? He’s been acting weird lately, sure, but it’s still elementary-school soccer. Predictable. A few kids with good physiques boot the ball and everyone else runs after it. That win he got yesterday? Pure luck. The other team just sucked.”
Her cynical analysis was razor-sharp, yet a corner of her heart remained unsettled. She kept remembering the way Gang-cheol had suddenly started calling her “Manager Han” after the accident, smiling that sly smile. Those eyes had not belonged to an eleven-year-old boy. They were the eyes of someone who could stand before thousands without blinking—ruthlessly seasoned, deep as an abyss. The composure in them left her strangely restless.
“I’m thirsty. Gonna grab a drink. You guys watch without me.”
Brushing off her friends’ protests, Se-hui headed down to the shaded area beneath the stands where vending machines stood in a row. As the roar of the crowd faded a little, she finally felt she could breathe.
In front of the vending machine. Just as Se-hui was about to feed coins into the machine breathing out cold air, a familiar and thoroughly annoying shadow fell over her head.
“Manager Han. No overtime pay and you still came all the way to Gyeongju to cheer. That’s the dedication of my personal manager right there. I’ll keep it in mind for the next salary negotiation.”
“Huh…?”
Se-hui turned. There stood Ma Gang-cheol in a black training top, wearing that signature sly smile. Sweat-damp bangs clung to his forehead, and the shoulder line visible beneath the uniform looked far harder and broader than it had only a few weeks ago. She flinched for a split second at the boy’s changed physique, then immediately furrowed her brow the way she always did.
“What the hell are you talking about, you lunatic? Manager? What frozen-to-death manager? Keep talking like some old man and see what happens. And shouldn’t you be playing? Why are you loitering here? Want me to snitch to the coach?”
Smack!
Se-hui’s palm cracked across Gang-cheol’s back without hesitation. The sharp, meaty sound that rang through the corridor was hard to believe came from a thirteen-year-old girl’s hand. It was the instinctive touch of a beast tamer who would one day command the world’s greatest hunters.
“Aaagh! Take it easy, Se-hui. I’m a valuable body that has to go play soon. Once you find out how much I’m worth, you’re gonna regret that hand.”
“Valuable my foot! You stole my milk yesterday and ran, didn’t you? Pay me back first!”
Gang-cheol rubbed his stinging back and laughed. Getting a back-smashing from the same venomous Manager Han of his previous life… instead of feeling bad, a strange sense of relief washed over him. He pulled an electrolyte drink from the machine and tossed it to her.
“Drink up, my future asset manager. Proper hydration keeps the brain working so you can review my contracts properly. Watch today’s match and your opinion might change. You’ll see soccer isn’t just some ball game—it’s high-level business.”
“Asset manager? Did that accident actually scramble your head? Did you take too many soccer balls to the skull and kill off all your brain cells?”
Se-hui grumbled, yet she savored the cool chill of the can he had given her. Gang-cheol almost ruffled her hair, then thought better of another smack and withdrew his hand with a grin. The boy’s smile outshone the sunlight, but beneath it lurked an ambition cold enough to raise goosebumps.
“Watch carefully. Today’s match won’t be the boring animal race you know. My seat next to you is going to become the most expensive seat in the world someday—so don’t forget to stake your claim early.”
He flashed her a quick wink and strolled off toward the players’ waiting room. On the back of his black uniform, the golden number 10 gleamed. Se-hui stood holding the dented can, staring blankly at his retreating figure before muttering under her breath.
“So annoying, seriously. Is this some middle-school syndrome? …But were his shoulders always that broad? And the way he walks—like he already knows everything…”
Something fluttered oddly in her chest. This was not the dumb desk-mate who used to steal her milk. This was the aura of a heavyweight who controlled every situation and looked down from above. As if entranced, Se-hui turned and headed back to the stands.
Status: Dopamine levels elevated due to encounter with Tamer Han Se-hui
Effect: Spatial Awareness and pass accuracy corrected by +15%
Alert: A meticulous gaze targeting your back has been detected from the stands
Peeeeep!
The referee’s sharp whistle sliced through the stadium. Twenty-two boys exploded onto the grass of Alcheon Stadium at once. Back in the stands, Se-hui propped her chin on her hand and watched the field. Their opponents, Gangneung Donghae Elementary—a defensive powerhouse—immediately slammed a rough three-man press onto Ma Gang-cheol from the opening whistle.
“Look at that. That idiot Ma Gang-cheol is trapped again. Three of them surrounding him—how’s he supposed to break free?”
Jimin stamped her feet in frustration, but Se-hui’s eyes saw something different. On the pitch, Gang-cheol was no longer the desk-mate who borrowed pencils in class. Even when defenders yanked his arms and slammed their shoulders into him, his upper body did not budge. Instead he slowed his pace, drawing the opponents toward himself like a black hole.
To the spectators it looked like he was in crisis. To Se-hui, a bizarre scene unfolded. The moment Gang-cheol stopped, Donghae’s defensive line tilted toward him, and on the opposite side a vast empty space opened up.
No way… did he calculate all of that and stop on purpose?
She rose from her seat without realizing it. Head lowered, Gang-cheol flicked his ankle. In the split second a defender’s legs parted by the tiniest margin—0.1 seconds of opportunity—he did not miss.
Tok.
The ball left Gang-cheol’s toe and knifed straight through the three defenders’ legs. It was less a pass than a sniper’s thread connecting invisible points. The ball arrived perfectly at the feet of Lee Dong-hyeok, who was already surging into the open space.
“Waaaaaah!”
Lee Dong-hyeok’s shot ripped into the net as if it would tear the mesh. 1–0. The stadium erupted in explosive cheers. But Se-hui never looked at the scorer. Her gaze stayed locked on the boy calmly walking out from among the defenders—Ma Gang-cheol.
That isn’t soccer.
Her palms were damp with sweat. That was domination. Gang-cheol was not kicking a ball; he was reading the opponents’ brains and luring their muscles exactly where he wanted them. He was the only painter coloring the canvas of the pitch, the chess master surveying the entire board.
The same uncanny spectacle repeated throughout the first half. Whenever Gang-cheol received the ball the stands screamed; every time he stabbed a pass, scouts gasped in admiration. Donghae players flailed like men possessed by ghosts, while Gang-cheol strolled the field as if mocking their chaos.
“End of the first half! 3–0! Haeseong Elementary holds an overwhelming lead!”
Halftime. As the players retreated to the bench, Se-hui found herself leaning over the railing of the stands. Gang-cheol took a drink of water, lifted his head, and locked eyes with her exactly. Wiping sweat, he shaped a clear message with his lips.
Se-hui’s face flushed crimson like a beet. The pounding of her heart reached her ears. It was not anger. It was the instinct of a future venomous agent mixed with a strange awe for her desk-mate—a pure thrill.
“Hey, Han Se-hui! What’s wrong with you? You said you weren’t cheering for Gang-cheol! Your face is bright red right now!”
Jimin stared at her with wide eyes. Se-hui clenched the dented can and answered.
“I’m not cheering. I’m just… making sure that idiot is properly paying back my milk money. When I manage his salary later, I can’t afford to take a loss.”
Yet a strange light already shone in Se-hui’s eyes. An intense desire to stay closest and watch how far that arrogant genius boy would climb began to dominate her.
The second-half whistle blew. For the first time in her life, Se-hui gripped a cheering stick in the soccer stands and shouted at the top of her lungs.
“Hey! Ma Gang-cheol! Are you even running properly?! You should’ve passed there! You idiot!”
At her cry, Gang-cheol grinned and raised a thumbs-up. It was the moment the beast tamer and her beast opened the curtain on a black hole that would one day swallow the entire world.
Status: Tamer Han Se-hui’s “Interest” stat is going berserk
Quest: Endure Han Se-hui’s back-smashings and grow into a world-class player
Reward: Future investment buff unlocked; “Tsundere’s Lunchbox” obtainable
Warning: Scouts from Beomcheon FC are left speechless by your play
Gang-cheol looked up at Se-hui in the stands and walked back onto the pitch. The preliminaries had been nothing more than a warm-up. The real hunt started now.