A Small Problem
With the match only three days away, I threw myself into getting ready to go watch it.
No matter how reckless I usually was, I knew I had to finish everything that needed doing first if I wanted to avoid any grumbling afterward. So I handled even the work I would normally have half-assed with meticulous speed. Faster, still faster—even if it meant clocking out late.
It got so bad that Yoo-kyung, who stood by waiting to assist me, finally spoke up.
“Chairman, how about taking a short break while you work?”
“No. I have to go see the match.”
“You could always go watch the next one.”
“I’m going to the next one too—and the one coming up—so that’s exactly why I’m doing this.”
I half-expected her to look at me with pure pity, but surprisingly she didn’t. Instead her eyes said something more like, You should’ve been working this hard from the start.
“Yoo-kyung, don’t just stand there watching—help me.”
“The work you’re doing right now is beyond my authority.”
“But you know how to do it.”
“Even if I do, I’ll pretend I don’t.”
“Honestly, zero flexibility. So petty.”
Even when I openly insulted her, Yoo-kyung only wore that same unbothered expression. How could one person be this thoroughly annoying?
“Haaa… I’m going out for a short walk.”
“I’ll accompany you.”
“Don’t. If you come with me right now I’ll explode.”
“Then I’ll follow a little behind.”
“Aigoo, seriously.”
I said that, but from Yoo-kyung’s position there wasn’t much choice. This was literally her job. I understood that too, so I couldn’t really complain—and I wasn’t in a position to complain anyway. That was how I ended up stepping outside with Yoo-kyung trailing after me like some useless, dangling tail.
I left the building and started walking the night streets. They looked similar to the ones I had known in my previous life, yet they were impossibly more beautiful than anything I could have imagined. In the middle of those streets I simply caught my breath.
A faint wave of melancholy washed over me. Was I even doing this right? The thought crept in before I could stop it.
What had begun as a plan to turn the soccer world upside down was growing larger by the day, and the moment to check whether that first button had been fastened correctly was almost here. So why was I trembling like this? Was I afraid of failing?
Probably. It was a little embarrassing to admit, but in this life I had never once suffered a major failure. Looking back, it almost made sense. Thanks to my ridiculously capable older brothers I had long since been removed from the succession race. Academically, the brilliant brains of the Hanul family plus the knowledge from my previous life had put me on a completely different starting line, and I had coasted from victory to victory. Even the coins I bought with pocket money had skyrocketed exactly as they had in my past life, making me a billionaire while I was still young. The company that had been dumped on me thrived under the same borrowed knowledge. Smooth sailing the entire way.
But this challenge was nothing like that easy road. It was a path of thorns. I was about to step into the same filthy arena that even the stubborn Han Tae-seong had fled from in disgust. Could I really endure it? Had I even made the right choice to begin with?
Just as those worries surfaced, I glanced at a television playing inside an ordinary bar. A soccer match was on—not a Korean game, but a World Cup match—and the fans inside were cheering with pure delight.
I knew better, though. Those happy fans were enjoying the content of the match itself. They weren’t cheering for a team they truly belonged to, a team they supported with genuine loyalty. Of course some of them might feel that attachment, and some might have their own longtime favorites, but one thing was certain: every last one of them would have rooted for Korea when Korea played.
The way they were pouring their hearts into this match right now might simply be a way to soothe the pain of Korea’s elimination—a sort of substitute. I wanted to give those people the heat of soccer back. I wanted to show them again how magnificent the game could be.
The thrill of pouring everything into a cheer and tasting victory at the end. The joy of climbing higher than anyone had ever climbed. The fever that rises when an entire nation becomes one voice. I wanted to give all of that back to them. And among those people was me as well—just like the 2002 I had been lucky enough to feel again because I had been reborn.
I was steeling my resolve with those thoughts when an irritating voice called from behind me.
“Chairman.”
“Yoo-kyung, what is it?”
Today her voice sounded especially grating. There was nothing I could do about it; the woman had simply become too slick for her own good.
Whether or not she sensed my inner grumbling, Yoo-kyung offered something I was more than happy to hear.
“Shall we have a drink?”
“A drink?”
It might sound a little undignified, but I loved alcohol with my whole heart. Soju, beer, wine, makgeolli—if it contained alcohol, I adored it. That was probably why the idea of drinking with Yoo-kyung filled me with pure delight.
“Hmm. Then once we’re finished with work, let’s clock out and grab a glass together.”
“Very well.”
Yoo-kyung nodded, then slipped in a quiet question that turned out to be the real clincher.
“Shall I prepare beer?”
The fact that she offered a cold beer instead of some fancy whiskey just to be polite—she would never know how grateful I was for that. Never.
“How is that even possible?!”
“Do-a, quiet.”
After work, at home.
Wearing comfortable pajamas and eating the late-night snack Sister Yoo-kyung had made, I began venting my frustration.
“Sister Yoo-kyung, do you really think that match made any sense? You can’t lose like that!”
“Even someone like me who doesn’t know much about soccer could tell that was a bit much.”
“Right? It was completely ridiculous!”
“Do-a. I told you to keep it down.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
At Sister Yoo-kyung’s chilling warning I immediately shut my mouth. I had always thought this, but Sister Yoo-kyung was scariest when she looked like that—eyes smiling while her mouth stayed perfectly still. Best to stay quiet for now.
When I kept my lips tightly sealed, she was the one who spoke next.
“That’s why you’re working so hard right now. Taking on a soccer club you never expected to own, plus all your regular work.”
“Yeah… I am working really hard, right…?”
“And thanks to you, I’ve ended up doing secretary work for a club owner that was never in my stars either.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll reflect on that.”
“Ugh.”
She said that, yet she had still cooked something impressively good.
“Sister Yoo-kyung, this is…”
“I was going to make ramen at first, but if you eat that your face will puff up like a balloon tomorrow. So how about we settle for this instead?”
What she brought out was none other than grilled chicken. She had managed to whip this up in the meantime.
“Sister, I love you…”
“I kept the seasoning as light as possible. Sodium and carbs will just make your face swell again, so hold back a little.”
“This isn’t holding back—this is a feast…!”
Beer and chicken as a midnight snack and still no swollen face? That was a miracle. The moment I started eating the delicious chicken Sister Yoo-kyung had made, every bit of fatigue in my body melted away.
“Aaaaaah… this is so good…”
I was happily munching chicken and letting the stress drain out of me when someone suddenly appeared behind us.
“What are you eating?”
“Eek?! You scared me!”
“Is it really that startling?”
The person who had come out was none other than my third older brother, Han Do-yun—who for some reason was staying at the main house instead of his usual place.
“Brother Do-yun? You were home?”
“Yeah. Mind if I have some of this?”
“No—”
“Please help yourself.”
“Sister?”
When I looked at Sister Yoo-kyung, she simply shrugged.
“As expected of you, Yoo-kyung. Don’t mind if I do.”
She had already brought over a fork and handed it to Brother Do-yun, who immediately started spearing pieces of chicken.
“Oh, this is good.”
“Thank you for the compliment.”
“Brother, that was mine.”
“Too late. Anyway, why are you eating chicken?”
At his question I simply rattled off everything that had happened that day—or more precisely, my entire schedule. After listening to my pitiful list of tasks, Brother Do-yun’s reaction was…
“So basically you piled on a mountain of work just so you could take two days off.”
There wasn’t a single shred of human warmth in that response.
“Anyway I was exhausted, so I begged Sister Yoo-kyung to make me something.”
“A secretary isn’t your personal servant, you know.”
“I don’t know, I don’t know—she made it first.”
“That’s true.”
“Tch. Then I’ve got nothing to say.”
After that, Brother Do-yun ate another piece of chicken and suddenly asked a strange question—startling, really.
“Hey, can I come watch the match too?”
“You too? You don’t even like soc—oh.”
“I know enough.”
In our family Grandfather and I were the biggest soccer fans, but that didn’t mean the others hated it. Most of them were simply indifferent. Among them, the ones who actually liked the sport were Brother Do-yun and Brother Do-min—the third and youngest brothers, the ones closest to my age.
“Do-min would love it too. You should invite him later.”
“I still want to show him a good match first…”
“If you’ve been working that hard, it’ll be fine.”
He gave my head a light pat and spoke as if making a request.
“Just one seat in the best section, please.”
“The seats are wide open anyway. It’s the second division.”
“Even with the Hanul name on it?”
“Can’t help it. Sports follow different rules.”
And besides, a certain someone had completely ruined the national team’s soccer, which only made popularity drop further while the gossip skyrocketed.
Anyway, I had received a request, so preparing at least one ticket was only polite.
“Sister Yoo-kyung.”
“I know, I know.”
With a resigned nod, Sister Yoo-kyung soon sent a ticket to Brother Do-yun’s phone. For the record, it was a VIP seat—same as mine. As expected of Sister Yoo-kyung.
But now that things had come to this, tomorrow’s match was one we absolutely had to win. Brother Do-yun wasn’t just family; he was someone who could pour fresh investment into Seongjin Hanul FC or connect us with sponsors—an extremely important person.