A Secret Visible Only to Me
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: A Secret Visible Only to Me
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“Huff!”
I jolted awake, startled.
It felt like I'd just woken from a happy nightmare.
'...I think I had a dream where I was really going at it with the Dean.'
Why the hell did I have such a weird dream all of a sudden?
Was it because I met the Dean in that kind of situation yesterday?
Or maybe the stress from working all night long?
Whatever the reason, now that I was awake, I felt a pang of regret.
Honestly, our Dean's figure was killer.
If I could have all the sex I wanted even in dreams, a guy like me couldn't ask for more.
“...No. What's the point of it being just a dream.”
As the hazy feeling cleared, reality crashed down hard.
This wasn't the time to be dwelling on stupid dreams.
This was the crucial month where my survival as a coach at the Korean Sports Academy was on the line.
[Player Coaching System installation completed.]
[Sorry for the inconvenience during upload. As an apology, we've added a small service.]
Right then, my phone buzzed on the pillow beside me.
'Huh? Did I look at my phone while falling asleep yesterday?'
I was pretty sure I'd just tossed it on the floor since I had work to do.
Well... I don't remember exactly where I put my phone every time.
“Must've set an alarm.”
I rubbed my sleepy eyes and picked up the phone.
“What the... So that thing from yesterday actually finished installing?”
This bizarre app called the Player Coaching System.
It had really downloaded completely and was even showing messages.
'I didn't buy anything or enter personal info, so it should be fine, right?'
No way a voice phishing scammer would make an app like this to scam people.
If it was something like 'Secret folder of Western beauties!', then maybe.
'Tsk. The name sounds so outdated, it reeks of a government agency. Did the university make and distribute it on their own?'
That seemed the most likely.
It was too coincidental for an app aimed at coaches to be called 'Player Management System'.
It was probably just one of those pointless projects they do sometimes.
'I'll check this later. Time to wash up first.'
I'd worked late yesterday and overslept a bit.
I needed to hurry if I wanted to make it to work on time.
To survive, showing diligence was key.
In my current situation, being late was not an option.
Coaches at the Korean Sports Academy fall into three categories.
Full-time coaches who directly train individual athletes.
General coaches who work under those full-time coaches.
And assistant coaches like me, who handle the grunt work.
“Coach Han, move those equipment the kids use. It looks dangerous if they bump into it.”
“Yes, got it!”
I answered energetically and got right to work.
Even as a coach on a one-month probation, I had to do my assigned tasks.
It would be trouble if I got labeled as someone who slacked off on everything else just to pad my record.
'This just proves workplaces are total wild jungles.'
Competition isn't just among athletes.
In a way, it's just as fierce among coaches.
To climb up, you need to catch the eye of a power-player full-time coach.
And those full-time coaches naturally push their own general coaches.
So assistants like me end up like ducks on the Nakdong River—adrift and forgotten.
'I'm technically attached to another team, though.'
Everyone knows that doesn't mean much—me, the coaches, the athletes.
What use is a coach without the authority to teach athletes?
And I couldn't refuse these chores even if I hated them.
These were precious chances to be around athletes.
Observing how coaches worked taught me things.
One big lesson: this place was rotten with networking and politics, just like everywhere else.
“That old guy's still here? I heard he's getting kicked out as coach soon.”
“Hey, don't call Coach 'old guy'.”
“Coach my ass. He's out in a month anyway.”
“For real? He's the one who works the hardest. Kinda sad.”
“Effort needs talent to mean anything. Why do we have to breathe the same air as a loser like him?”
“Kek! This crazy bitch's personality is explosive too.”
The athletes whispered as they looked at me.
Obviously, nothing nice.
'I can hear you all, you brats.'
It stung, but I couldn't scold or reprimand them.
They were top-ranked in the Taekwondo department.
Number one at the Korean Sports Academy meant national team candidate.
Their value was incomparable to some assistant coach.
If I tattled to their full-time coach, I'd be in deep shit.
'I don't want the image of picking fights with athletes either.'
I swallowed my frustration and just focused on the work.
Better to finish the chores quickly.
I picked up a box full of miscellaneous items and headed to the storage room.
Then, some rubber balls precariously stacked on top tumbled down.
“Ah, damn.”
Couldn't pick them up with the box in my hands.
Annoying, but I'd have to set the box down, come back, and grab them.
As I grimaced in irritation...
Someone picked up the ball and placed it on the box.
“Ah, th...anks?”
I bowed my head slightly to see who it was.
Na-young Han, from the Taekwondo department.
'...She's pretty today too.'
She was the rumored prettiest girl in the Taekwondo department... no, in the entire Korean Sports Academy.
When I first heard the rumors, I wondered how pretty she could be, but damn, she was stunning.
'Why didn't a girl like her go into entertainment instead of sports?'
Bountiful breasts that even her dobok couldn't hide.
Hips and toned legs that made it hard to know where to look during stretches.
And a face that could rival any idol.
With the nature of a sports academy, plenty of girls had great figures.
But Na-young Han was on another level.
That kind of beauty wasn't made; it was born.
She once wore skin-tight jeans...
The guys in that class must've suffered.
'And she's a freak talent in sports too.'
Na-young Han was a genius who'd swept youth competitions.
Now they were saying it was her era in Korean Taekwondo.
Though she was in a slump now, her rankings had dropped a lot.
'With that face and body, she could quit competing and model for a living no problem.'
God must've crafted her pore by pore.
She was a genius from a completely different world than mine.
Such a girl showed me some kindness(?) and stared right at me.
The air got awkward, so I smiled and spoke first.
“Uh... Na-young, right? Thanks.”
“...For real?”
“What?”
“Are you really quitting as coach?”
I blinked in confusion.
'She's not the type to care about gossip.'
Truth be told, Na-young Han was a bit of an outsider in the Taekwondo department.
Bluntly put, close to being ostracized.
Even she knew about me.
How far had the rumors about me spread?
“...Nothing's set in stone yet. I got the termination notice, but.”
“So you're leaving.”
“I said it's not decided.”
“Hmm.”
Na-young Han nodded slightly and turned to leave.
...Her personality was a bit quirky compared to her model-like face and body.
Whatever, it wasn't my business, so I was about to keep going—
“...Ah, good work, Coach.”
She stopped, bowed as if she'd just remembered.
First athlete to greet me like that here.
As she bowed, her breasts swayed heavily, cleavage peeking... oh yeah...
'Pretty girl with manners too. And that body is even kinder.'
Coaching a girl like that would make every day a joy.
I finished moving the rest of the stuff, lost in such obvious thoughts.
I rushed through the chores and moved on to the next task.
This was my real job, technically.
I set up a desk in a relatively visible spot in the hallway.
Piled on it were the surveys I'd made all night.
The papers had the subtitle 'Athlete Mental Health & Concern Consultation'.
I'd even made a survey site and QR code—perfect.
“Phew! Being solo means I can do what I want without approval. Nice.”
My team's official name was the Sports Mental Care Team.
All that pointless English was so Korean.
The real goal: athlete mental care and improvement.
Mental strength plays a huge role in sports.
Major leagues invest billions yearly in psychological counseling for players.
World-famous American football player John Robert Meade, who faced racism, credited his psychologist for overcoming his slump.
Meanwhile, sports mental care in Korea was a wasteland.
Too many coaches and directors stuck on 'just tough it out' mentalism.
'Some directors publicly say Gen MZ lacks grit so their skills suck...'
The relatively new Korean Sports Academy paid decent attention to it.
So they rushed to make a team like this to pretend they cared about athlete mental health.
I was one who benefited.
The higher-ups who love anything foreign created the mental care team, giving me a spot.
My major and certifications helped a ton.
Among coaches who networked their way in, I was the only real expert despite being lowest on the totem pole.
'But the team imploded with no proper system, and now I'm getting booted.'
To survive, I needed results here.
So I decided to start from basics, step by step.
Hand out surveys directly to athletes to share their mental care issues.
'I've said forever to stop the half-assed approach and get athlete perspectives, but the bosses always shot it down.'
...Thinking back, maybe I skipped it knowing the team would fold anyway to avoid hassle.
Anyway, I handed surveys to interested athletes.
“Coach, what's this?”
“Survey on mental management and recovery. Just checking issues objectively helps a lot.”
“It won't be recorded anywhere, right?”
“Nothing that big. Just casual concern consultation. Answer lightly with whatever problems you've thought about.”
“...Even non-sports stuff?”
“Anything affecting your mental state. Personal life, relationships, even looks or dating issues—all fine.”
“Ah, uh, give me one then♥”
Guess most were early-20s in their prime—they showed interest in this.
“Um, excuse me. Can I get one too...”
“Come on over. So-young Lee, right?”
“Huh? You know me...?”
“Of course. One of the hardest workers in swimming.”
“Ehehe...”
I couldn't remember every athlete, of course.
But I tried to note the standout ones.
Athletes secretly love that attention.
“Always great seeing you work so hard.”
“Doesn't help my skills much...”
“Don't put yourself down. Sports is all about confidence in the end. You deserve it, So-young.”
“Th-thanks. Survey, please.”
A few students took surveys.
More than I expected gathered.
“Phew! That's enough for today.”
As I wrapped up, another coach took interest.
“Hi, Coach Dae-wi Han.”
“Ah, hello, Coach So-hee Yoo!”
“Hehe! No need to be so formal. We've met more than once or twice.”
I shot up from my seat at the approaching beauty.
Her name was So-hee Yoo.
A fellow coach like me.
'Though leagues apart from me.'
Specialized in body management through yoga and Pilates.
Female athletes trusted and sought her out first.
'Her skills and figure are both top-tier.'
So-hee Yoo was already married.
But her maintained body was jaw-dropping.
Her work often had her in pink leggings.
The hip and butt lines she showed off were insane.
If she did YouTube or OnlyFans instead of coaching, she'd rake in way more.
I ran into her at the gym often, and her figure always got my little brother standing at attention—troublesome.
“Surveys for the kids?”
“Yeah. Thought it might help with mental management.”
“Wow, you're dedicated. This stuff gives me headaches. Young folks are different~”
Even I felt good with praise from a woman like So-hee Yoo.
Pretty face, killer body, talented, kind too.
If not married, I'd be head over heels.
“You made this link too?”
“Yep. Just running a program—not hard.”
“Hmm... Tech's not my thing. Sometimes I need the kids' help just to update apps.”
Married, but not that old.
Probably always been bad with machines.
“If you need help, just ask. They pushed some weird app from above again.”
“App? What's that?”
“You haven't seen it?”
I opened the 'Player Coaching System' on my phone to show her.
“It installed on my phone out of nowhere. Probably distributed to coaches.”
Coach So-hee Yoo tilted her head.
“Huh... What? I just see a black screen.”
“What?”
I checked my screen.
But 'Player Coaching System' was clearly displayed.
“You can't see this?”
“Hehe! What? Teasing me? Didn't know you did jokes, Coach Dae-wi.”
Coach So-hee Yoo didn't seem to be acting.
No reason to fake not seeing it.
'What... then maybe...'
Is this visible only to my eyes?