Preparing for the Distant Future
“From now on, the players I call should come out.”
After training finished and it was time for everyone to go home, Marco Feltner gathered all the players and said exactly that.
It was already strange enough that the usually punctual Marco Feltner would suddenly speak like this right before they left, but what came next was even stranger.
“Cha Jeong-woo. Kang Si-woo.”
Cha Jeong-woo and Kang Si-woo stepped forward first. Marco Feltner looked at them with a small smile and began to deliver news so joyful it was almost overwhelming.
Yes, it was far too joyful.
“U-23 national team call-up.”
The words hit Cha Jeong-woo and Kang Si-woo like a sudden electric shock. Both of them had never imagined they would be selected for the national team, especially Kang Si-woo, who had quietly convinced himself that even if luck smiled, it would probably only be U-20.
Worse, right now the U-23 national team carried enormous weight. It was the team that might get called up to the Asian Games in a few months.
“Hopefully this opportunity will also settle the military service issue. Korea’s military service problem is pretty big, isn’t it?”
Marco Feltner ended his sentence and moved on.
“Next: Baek Hyeon. Yun Seo-jin.”
Baek Hyeon and Yun Seo-jin stepped forward still half-expecting what was coming. Their faces were already swollen with hopeful expectation.
“Congratulations. You’ve both been called up to the U-20 national team. I hope you have a wonderful chance to train with even greater players.”
Naturally, the two of them had been selected for the U-20 squad.
Yun Seo-jin had even been within reach of the U-18 team, yet the call had come for U-20. So four players from a single K League 2 team were now national team members, two of them having jumped ahead in the ranks.
*Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.*
The applause echoed so loudly it felt like the walls themselves were cheering. Within it swirled envy, jealousy, and sincere joy all mixed together.
There was nothing anyone could do about it. Most of the players standing here had never once worn the national team jersey or had only been called up a handful of times at most.
To them, the four newcomers who had just been chosen were walking targets for envy.
The veterans who were sincerely congratulating them could afford to do so because they had already let the national team’s hunger go.
Still, the newly honored players lifted their phones to share the good news with their families.
But at that moment Marco Feltner opened his mouth again.
“And the players just called up—come see me before you leave.”
See the club owner.
The words left the players frozen in place.
To be honest, Han Do-a was currently the same age as her players. She was the same age, thought the same way, and because she possessed an almost unnatural sense for business and people, conversations with her flowed naturally.
Perhaps the best way to put it was that she felt more like a close friend or a neighborhood older sister than a club owner.
But peel away just one layer of that playful Do-a and an entirely different person emerged.
A twenty-year-old who had inherited an investment firm in the deepest backwater of the Hanul Group, who had transformed it into Korea’s premier investment powerhouse without even a few years passing.
A career woman barely into her late twenties who had already achieved everything she set out to achieve.
If the players ever caught even a glimpse of her true self—the kind, gentle older sister they knew—then the gap between that image and the one they feared right now would make them tremble just a little at the thought of her.
So the players and the entire coaching staff, including Marco, left first. With a mixture of excitement and nerves, the four national team hopefuls headed toward the club owner’s office.
As they walked, they began whispering among themselves.
“Why did the owner call us?”
“I don’t know…”
“Is she going to give us a bonus for the congratulations?”
“Hyung, even if it is, that doesn’t seem right…”
“Seo-jin-ah, you could at least joke around. I’m freaking out here…”
The four players standing in front of the club owner’s office were trembling with barely contained tension. The four of them kept exchanging glances, as if silently saying, “You go first.”
Among the players who had been passing the baton back and forth, the one who eventually drew the short sword first was, of course, Cha Jeong-woo.
The door opened with a soft creak.
Han Do-a welcomed them in.
“Players, why are you standing out here?”
“Ye…?”
“Uh….”
“Umm….”
“We were… about to come in…”
“Pfft. Why are you so tense? Come on in. I’ll make this quick.”
Han Do-a opened the door wider than necessary and guided the younger players inside. The four of them stepped into the suddenly immaculately arranged office, sat on the sofa, and braced themselves.
Han Do-a, of course, took the top seat. Then she began her congratulatory speech.
“Everyone, first of all—congratulations. I know this is your first time being called up to the national team, and I’m so proud of you.”
This was sincere.
The national team.
How much sweat and suffering had it taken to reach this chair? Not a single person here would have been unaware of that. Han Do-a, who was not even a player, understood it better than most.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you…!”
“We’ll give our all.”
“Thank you so much!”
A hand fluttered with excitement as she laughed. Then, mixing her words with jokes, she finally got to the main point.
“I didn’t call you here to give you some tired old speech about ‘representing Hanul’s name and giving it everything.’”
“Your talent is still buried. More precisely, it hasn’t even been fully revealed to the world yet. You’ve only shown a sliver.”
The evaluation came next, directed straight at the four players.
Right now, even in K League 2, these four were the ones coaches could not stop praising.
Kang Si-woo, who made the Best Eleven every round. Baek Hyeon, who might lack stability but was still recognized as the league’s top midfielder. Cha Jeong-woo, whose offensive and defensive work were both terrifying. And Yun Seo-jin, already playing at a level far beyond his years as a debutant.
To anyone who paid close attention to Korean football, these four would instantly look like “very promising players.”
Yet when the special weight of the national team was considered, selecting them carried serious risk factors. U-20 was full of players who rose through the ranks quickly, while U-23 mostly drew from those who had already debuted in the top division.
Still, four players from the second division had been chosen. A coach had simply recognized their value before anyone else had.
Moreover, Kang Si-woo and Yun Seo-jin—selected for U-23 and U-20—had jumped ahead even though they could have started lower.
“So Cha Jeong-woo aside, it seems the coach who spotted Si-woo and Seo-jin right from the beginning is already in the U-23 and U-20 squads.”
“What I’d like you to do is find the coach who strongly recommended you and the coach you feel has given you outstanding guidance. Come meet them.”
What Han Do-a had requested was talent scouting to strengthen the coaching staff.
Right now Seongjin Hanul FC’s entire coaching team was made up of foreigners.
That was why she was deliberately recruiting Korean coaches. Because the current coaching staff had already been completed by the Feltner faction. If Marco ever moved on, the players who would follow him were exactly the ones she needed to prepare for now.
She already knew. Marco Feltner, once his contract ended, would leave for bigger waters. She had deliberately brought in Korean coaches to fill the gap.
A place where you could learn directly from him, debate tactics with him, and step in when he was gone.
Han Do-a had been looking far into the future.
“Since I can’t send you back empty-handed, I’ll send you a congratulatory gift separately. Later, when you show it to your parents, won’t it look even better?”
Because simply asking wasn’t enough, she had also prepared money. The four national team hopefuls suddenly felt an even heavier responsibility.
“We’ll definitely find them…!”
“Thank you!”
“We’ll definitely get selected for the next national team too!”
“Just their names and phone numbers will do, right?”
The four players, suddenly wearing military discipline, only had one thing left to do—burst into laughter.
A bright, genuine laugh. Kkarruk.