I'll Buy Whatever You Ask For

Just as expected — things went exactly as expected. Baek Hyeon, No Geon-woo, Kang Si-woo. Those three signed contracts far more smoothly than I'd anticipated.

"You're… taking me?"

"Yes. The newly appointed manager of Seongjin Hanul FC has a very high opinion of you, Baek Hyeon."

"I'll give it everything I've got…!"

"Looking forward to working with you, Baek Hyeon."

Baek Hyeon was brimming with fight.

"Would it be all right if I asked why you're bringing me in?"

"First of all, No Geon-woo — your reaction speed. Among college players, no one has better reflexes than you. Reaction speed is the single most important quality in a goalkeeper, and you already have it."

"But I'm short for a goalkeeper…"

"One hundred eighty-five centimeters. Not particularly tall by goalkeeper standards, no. But look at the players currently with the Gunners — David Raya. Royal Madrid's legendary keeper Iker Caesar. André Navas, who led that same Royal Madrid side to three straight Champions League titles. Yann Sommer, who filled the gap left by Merni Neuer. All of them were under one hundred eighty-five centimeters. That height can be a disadvantage, but it is not a flaw."

"…I'll work hard."

"Looking forward to working with you, No Geon-woo."

No Geon-woo had been extremely cautious, but once I laid out the case, he came around. Those two had been relatively straightforward. The third, though, was a little more complicated.

Kang Si-woo — the player who would one day carry Seongjin Hanul FC's attack. He was a bit of a struggle. Why? Because Kang Si-woo had attended a high school affiliated with Seongjin, failed to get a professional draft pick, and ended up going to university. In other words, Kang Si-woo was a player Seongjin had already discarded once.

"Seongjin wants me back?"

"Yes. Come home to Seongjin, Kang Si-woo."

"…I never made Seongjin's cut. Why would you try to sign me again?"

"I read your high school evaluation reports. Including the one written by your last coach, Coach Yang."

That evaluation of Kang Si-woo said he was "clumsy about tracking back defensively" and "greedy for goals." Even if that had been true, it would have been a deeply disrespectful assessment. The half-twist was that the evaluation was partly accurate — but it was a matter of the player's individual style.

Kang Si-woo was a classic poacher. A natural-born goalscorer, pure and simple. Even coming off the bench in the college league, he was second on his team in goals. The moment the ball found Kang Si-woo, a goal was almost guaranteed.

Of course a player like that would look clumsy about defensive work. If a complete forward who did everything well also scored at his rate, he wouldn't still be playing at the college level — he'd already be somewhere much higher.

"They only looked at the narrowest slice of who you are. Your real strengths are finishing and attacking power. Seongjin Hanul FC's new manager watched you score in a college match and immediately asked us to bring you in."

"Is that true?"

"I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠don't lie. And why would I bother lying just to sign a college player like you?"

"…I'm sorry. That was shortsighted of me. Can we sign right away?"

"Good. And I promise you this — the Seongjin you remember is going to be very different from the one you find now."

Getting past the prejudice he still carried toward the club that had once discarded him took some real work, but I managed it. The quiet hostility he directed at me had been irritating, honestly. Still, he was only a college kid — once I worked him a little, he came around. Kind of cute, really. College kids.

Anyway, those three prospects had a few minor twists and turns, but we got them signed in the end. As for the other prospects — the ones who would never quite reach national-team level but still had potential — they came in far more easily than those three.

"I won't let you down!"

"I'll give it everything!"

"Leave it to me!"

Every last one of them was overflowing with fight. So this is why people develop young talent, I thought. Though if I were in their shoes, I'd probably be just as fired up.

You're grinding through the college league, wondering whether you'll even make it into the K League before military service — and then suddenly a K League 2 club comes calling. And not just any club: one with Hanul as its sponsor. Who wouldn't be thrilled?

And so the squad depth that had been gutted by the mass releases was packed full of prospects. Solid. So solid I felt like my stomach was stuffed.

With the depth problem solved, what we needed next were the players who would serve as the team's anchors — ready-made contributors. Specifically, one center-back and one wingback.

Gu Bon-cheol for center-back. Ha Seung-pyo for wingback.

Gu Bon-cheol was currently a center-back at Daegu Sunnies, a mid-table side in the second division. Age had dulled his physique, and he was being used as a substitute or a physical battery for the starters.

His former club had been in the first division until just last season, so the impression was of a player hit by one piece of bad luck after another. Feltner must have spotted that from the appearance records and asked me to bring him in.

While I pushed the prospects' transfers through as quickly as possible, I also reached out to Daegu Sunnies about Gu Bon-cheol. They replied right away.

There was a lot of filler, but the gist came down to this:

We really hate to lose him, but if you need him, we'll sell. We just want a bit more for the transfer fee. The fee is three hundred million won.

Three hundred million in transfer fees. Was that a strong valuation? Absolutely not. They weren't even asking for a buyback clause. And yet…

Did they think I was some clueless rookie owner? Trying to squeeze three hundred million out of a K League 2 deal? Were they out of their minds?

K League 2 is the second tier of a relatively modest league, so clubs don't expect big money when they deal with each other. Free agency, or a market-rate fee at most, is the norm.

So does a K League 2 player like Gu Bon-cheol command a three-hundred-million-won price tag? If anyone asked me that, I could answer with absolute certainty:

For that kind of money, I'd rather just go buy a foreign mercenary.

Daegu Sunnies clearly thought they could take me for a ride because I was a new owner — and a Hanul, no less. They picked the wrong target. The moment I declared, "Take the market rate or I'll sign someone else," they agreed to settle for the proper valuation.

The fee came in at a little under one hundred million won. It almost felt like they gave him away cheap — Daegu Sunnies must have wanted a quick sale.

That ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was the extent of our little standoff with Daegu Sunnies, and it collapsed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠so abruptly that the negotiations ended on a strangely hollow note. It was almost enough to make me appreciate, all over again, just how brutal the dealmaking at Hanul Invest had been by comparison.

Of course, the real trial came next: Ha Seung-pyo. He was the hard one. He was difficult in every possible way.

Ha Seung-pyo was a starting wingback for Chungnam City FC, a side currently fighting for a top spot in K League 2. From Chungnam City's perspective, a newly owned club had just walked up and said, "Hand over one of your starters."

Under ordinary circumstances, that was a deal you simply never accept — so I decided to make a significant concession. What kind of concession? The one thing a publicly funded civic club can never ignore: tax-related money.

"Five hundred million?"

Five hundred million — an enormous transfer fee by K League 2 standards. Still not wildly excessive. When I floated the idea of negotiating over that figure, they answered that they were open to talking. Meaning five hundred million had been an opening bid, nothing more.

From that moment, I was confident the club-to-club negotiation would resolve just fine.

If they had truly meant to declare him NFS, they would have shut down my negotiation offer on the spot. Then I would have had to ask Feltner for a replacement.

Once we were at the table, I still tried to cut the price as much as I could. Paying five hundred million for a K League 2 player simply didn't make financial sense.

I opened at three hundred million against their five. They flatly refused to sell at three, so I edged up to three hundred fifty. Then Chungnam City FC came down to four hundred forty million.

We went back and forth like that, calling and cutting numbers like a seesaw, until we finally settled at four hundred million. And that was that for the club-level deal.

But the reason I singled out Ha Seung-pyo as the hardest wasn't the fee haggling between clubs. It was the player's own will.

Ha Seung-pyo had ambitions that didn't belong to a typical K League 2 player.

So I had no choice but to put in the absolute maximum effort.

"Ha Seung-pyo — good to meet you."

"(A pleasure. Ha. I am Marco Feltner.)"

That "maximum effort" included pulling in Feltner himself, who was already buried under training sessions and tactical installation. Feltner looked genuinely swamped, but the second I said we needed him for Ha Seung-pyo's recruitment, he came running. So he really did need this player.

Ha Seung-pyo exchanged the briefest of greetings and went straight to the point.

"Why does this team need me?"

"(Chefin, please interpret for me.)"

"Of course."

I began relaying everything Feltner had said about Ha Seung-pyo's value, without leaving out a single detail.

Stamina that never flagged across a full ninety minutes. Relentless attacking involvement and constant overlapping crosses. Rapid defensive recovery powered by that same fitness and pace. Intelligent positioning for every situation.

In Feltner's eyes, a player who could contribute at both ends like Ha Seung-pyo was not a second-division talent. He was clearly first-division quality. If he joined Seongjin Hanul FC right now, he could step in as an ace immediately.

Listening to Feltner, I finally understood Ha Seung-pyo in detail myself — and his value seemed even higher than I'd imagined.

After hearing all of that, Ha Seung-pyo asked us one more question. A question that reeked of his ambition.

"…What's this team's goal?"

To that final question, Feltner answered in a voice of absolute conviction — in German, but with total clarity.

"Promotion and the K League title."

An absurdly grand dream for a mid-table second-division side ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to even speak aloud. But Ha Seung-pyo liked the sound of it. A smile was already tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I'll be in your hands. Manager. Owner."

And with that, we had secured every resource the team needed — from the prospects we would develop intensively to the players we needed as immediate contributors.

Honestly, it had been an insanely busy week. I needed rest. I was going to rest. Just one day off.

As a side note: after this experience, I started insisting on the European transfer method of securing the player's personal agreement first, then negotiating between clubs.

When the player applies pressure from his side too, the talks get a lot easier.