Paths of Flame
We crushed Hanyang High 8-1. We could've run up the score to double digits, but Coach Choi Gi-hyeon, who had a connection with the Hanyang coach, pulled me after halftime.
"Sorry for asking this of you, Coach Choi."
"Oh, no worries, Sunbae."
"Sorry to you too, Son Jinho. And I'll have some good news for you soon."
"Ah... yes. Thank you."
Good news? What could that be? As I nodded awkwardly, the two coaches chatted quietly and walked off.
Whatever. That was just how things were back then. The soccer world is small for a reason—one or two handshakes, and everyone's connected in Korean soccer's magical little bubble.
And because of that, coaches would intentionally throw games for personal favors all the time. In fact, this very year, several K-League youth teams got busted by the federation for match-fixing and hit with suspensions.
"Jinho!"
Anyway, right after the coaches left, my mother-in-law and father-in-law rushed over. Both were extremely excited—clearly impressed by my performance.
"You did amazing, absolutely amazing! I thought I was watching Lampard. Kid!"
'The less blue-hearted Lampard?'
I tilted my head at her words, then nodded.
'Oh. Right, before he transferred to Man City.'
Come to think of it, Mom was a Chelsea fan. Would've been hilarious if Dad was a Tottenham supporter. Sadly, he was more into baseball. A Seoul native who rooted for a Busan team with no real ties. Sigh... just tragic. Even up to the moment I regressed, I'd never heard of them winning a title. If they ever took the Korean Series, the three major networks would probably air specials, and even That One Night might cover it.
"Kuh... when's our son-in-law gonna make the national team? Looks like he'll be wearing the taeguk mark any day now."
Well, liking baseball didn't mean Dad hated soccer. He just skipped overseas leagues and K-League, but he was a die-hard FC Korea fan who never missed a national team match.
'Still, Gyeowol cheers for Man U, not Chelsea like her mom. Is this what they call a fiery filial daughter?'
Both Chelsea and Man U were set to evolve into top Premier League contenders battling for 1st and 2nd. The mother-daughter duo's foresight deserved thunderous applause.
"Son Jinho put on an incredible show! At this rate, won't he join Arsenal, the traditional powerhouse even backed by the British royals?"
As I chatted with Gyeowol's parents, Chairman Hwang Geum-sun approached with words of encouragement. Right, he was an Arsenal fan. Even first-years knew about the Invincibles poster in his office.
'Titles are temporary, but 4th is forever...'
As I pictured Arsenal's current manager Arsène Wenger, Mom locked eyes with the chairman in a stare-down.
Maybe because he mentioned Arsenal? Lasers shot from her eyes. Hmm... Chelsea and Arsenal were rivals, but not that much.
"Ha... Oppa? What're you saying? Our Jinho's going to Chelsea, right?"
Yep. Oppa? I blinked in confusion, glancing between Chairman Hwang Geum-sun and Hwang Miyeon. Come to think of it, they did look alike. Wait... I never noticed that even in my past life.
My brain overloaded. I'd thought the chairman just looked out for me because he was Dad's hometown senior. Who knew there was this backstory.
'Makes sense. Way too much favoritism for just a hometown connection...'
I shot Dad a pleading look for details, but seeing him, I could only pity the guy.
"Ha. Dongsaeng, how could you send Jinho to a club without roots like Chelsea."
"Yeah, winless for five years straight."
"What do you think, brother-in-law? Jinho belongs at Arsenal, right?"
"Honey, obviously Chelsea."
"...Haha, both are great teams, aren't they?"
Dad fidgeted like he was on pins and needles, glancing nervously between the chairman and Mom.
'Ah... Father-in-law.'
Watching him, I quietly wiped away a tear. Now I got why the guy famous for loving sports ignored overseas soccer. All for household peace.
'Daughter's a Man U nut, wife's Chelsea die-hard, and big bro-in-law's a Gooner?'
This family? Christmas without grabbing collars was a win. If Dad rooted for Liverpool, it'd be perfect.
'Still, how'd they all end up with such...'
I tsked, thinking of their teams' futures. Then, an uncomfortable truth hit me.
'Wait. If Mom and the chairman are from the same hometown as Dad... why didn't they say? No way... Mom was Dad's ex... ugh.'
My family tree spun me dizzy.
Thankfully, it wasn't some shocking drama where Gyeowol turned out to be my half-sister or whatever. Mom and Chairman Hwang Geum-sun were half-siblings. Their moms hadn't gotten along when they were young, so barely any contact until adulthood, just occasional calls.
War like the Korean War slashed young men's numbers, so it was a tragic era.
"If you and Gyeowol broke up, we'd be fine, but you'd feel awkward around us. So even if I'm useless, as an adult big bro, I'd back you up."
They'd kept it secret from me just in case Gyeowol and I split—people change, after all.
"But seeing how you treat Gyeowol, no need to hide it anymore?"
They'd planned a surprise reveal at our wedding... but she died in the accident before that, burying the truth.
'Oh yeah...'
I vaguely remembered seeing someone like the chairman at Gyeowol's funeral, patting my shoulder and saying something. But the shock had fried my brain; barely any memories left of it.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
For some reason, holding Gyeowol as she played her puzzle game made her feel precious all over again.
I hugged her tight. Annoyed by the interruption, she grumbled.
"Ugh, let go. I gotta do this. That Ji-hyeon bitch overtook my score."
Animal something? A game linked to KakaoTalk messenger for competing with friends—huge hit for that reason.
"You downloading porn on the computer or what?"
After ages on her smartphone gaming, Gyeowol went to boot the PC for the soccer footage Mom recorded, noticed something off, and grilled me.
"No."
"Then why's the computer still on?"
Uh. Um. Mining? 21st-century style—no pickaxe, just PC digging for gold. Coins were the new gold rush.
"Gyeowol."
I lowered my voice seriously and called her.
"Yeah?"
"Don't you wanna get rich?"
"Our family's already rich?"
True. I nodded slowly. Watching me, she added,
"You're rich too."
I nodded again. Worth repeating: playing soccer in Korea cost a fortune.
Even excluding coach bribes, basic gear wasn't cheap.
To start as a regular, you scraped together every won to "beg favors" from the coach.
Legend had it a famous Seoul high school soccer coach pocketed 400 million won in three years. When Seoul apartments averaged under 500 million—that was graft even corrupt officials would envy.
'That jailed coach was the one who tried luring me to his school.'
Anyway, in this capitalist Korea, debuting pro on pure talent needed Ballon d'Or podium-level genius.
'Whoa. Look at all this.'
Staring at coins piling in my virtual wallet, I grinned in satisfaction.
'With this, I'll run a small orphanage later. Who knows—maybe a world-shocking soccer star comes out of it.'
They say time flies faster as you age. Maybe because of the regression, but it felt double-speed for me.
Drilling systematic training into Geum-sun High's soccer team,
"Your tactical execution disappoints this instructor! Therefore! Geum-sun High Soccer Club enters special training now! Responses unified as 'Sir'! Understood?!"
A week flew by. Next thing I knew, it was matchday Saturday again.
"Hoo—!"
We smashed Dongmyeong High from the northern Seoul league 12-1. I notched a hat-trick with mid-range shots alone.
And thanks to that performance,
I got called up to the U-19 national team for training. Do well here, and I might hit the April friendlies in the UAE. Naturally, the family group chat exploded with the good news.
Hmm. Hell? Why are all the options flame paths.