A Secret League Debut (Part 2)
"Don't worry, just sprint forward."
"Are we running the set play? Which number?"
"Number three. So, Dominic, you just stick right in front of their keeper."
Moments later, the match resumed with Sheffield United's kickoff.
Perhaps thanks to their manager roaring at the top of his lungs from the touchline, Sheffield's players appeared relatively composed for a squad that had just conceded an opening goal. Of course, that didn't mean everything had returned to normal.
"Ah, look at the Sheffield forwards—they're completely lost, drifting without finding their positions! When you're disjointed like this, your options quickly run out."
"And as we speak, a speculative shot from distance!"
"Oh, Lee Han tracked all the way back to aid the defense, and his block is right on the mark! Goalkeeper Mathias comfortably gathers the looping, harmless deflection. That will be a goal kick for Luton Town."
"There wasn't much of an angle to shoot from there to begin with. Taking a wild strike and squandering an attacking sequence so cheaply—Sheffield will surely regret that."
Regrettably for the hosts, a mentally shaken Sheffield posed little threat.
Even if they had anticipated my tendency to drop deep based on analysis of the previous fixture, they certainly hadn't expected me to scurry all the way down into our backline. Confounded by the movement, they handed over possession without putting up a fight.
Just like that, the attacking initiative swung back to us.
Our goalkeeper, Mathias, sent a crisp pass straight toward me—having dropped low to help defend, or more accurately, to receive the ball right in this pocket. The moment my studs met the leather, Dominic, alongside our twin wingers Emir and Luke, took off at full throttle.
Rather than simply sprinting in a straight line, they deliberately angled their runs to set basketball-style screens, temporarily blocking the Sheffield markers' paths. Before the defenders could even register that something was off, I drove forward with the ball in an explosive, unimpeded burst.
The instant the ball crossed the halfway line, a Sheffield central midfielder lunged in recklessly. Rolling the ball backward with the sole of my boot in one fluid motion, I let his sliding tackle brush harmlessly past me.
Suddenly, all that lay ahead was a ragged Sheffield defensive line split wide open around the half-space, and their goalkeeper, who was forced to backpedal hesitantly because Dominic was lurking right on his doorstep.
Slicing through defenders already thrown into disarray by my teammates' crisscrossing decoy runs was child's play.
A crisp, instantaneous one-two pass with Teddy saw me glide right through their defensive cordon. A look of sheer helplessness washed over the center-backs' faces; they had braced themselves for a relentless, head-down dribble, never anticipating such swift interplay.
Teddy's return ball arrived low and fierce. As it skidded slightly behind my stride, I scooped it upward with my heel to flick it over an oncoming defender. The moment the descending ball cushioned against my instep, I snapped my ankle to pop it up once more on the bounce.
"Sensational ball control! With just a simple pass and a handful of sublime touches, he's turned two defenders into training cones! Did Lee Han always possess this level of close control?!"
"Sheffield had committed so many bodies forward in that previous attack that their midfield hasn't even recovered yet! Lee Han is driving clean through the middle!"
Sheffield's midfield line had pushed sky-high during their earlier possession, and with their backline just breached, vast swathes of empty green grass opened before me. Keeping the ball tethered to my boots with delicate taps, I advanced straight toward goal.
The keeper darted an anxious glance between me and Dominic, realized that any pass across would catch Dominic offside, and immediately ignored him to charge out and close down my shooting lane.
Naturally, I had no intention of waiting around for him to set his feet.
THWACK!
There wasn't a single reason on earth to delay.
A thunderous impact reverberated across the pitch, accompanied by the violent rustle of the net threatening to tear at its seams as the ball crashed home. It was a shot entirely different in character from my earlier goal.
Beaten cleanly by a dipping, no-rotation strike, the goalkeeper couldn't even stretch out a hand. The shell-shocked defenders hung their heads, having surrendered two goals in the first half alone. In stark contrast, our traveling supporters erupted in jubilation, sending showers of beer cascading into the away end, while the commentators upstairs practically lost their minds.
And then came my teammates, mobbing me with wide smiles as I soaked it all in.
This was football.
Peep, peep, peeeeep!
The referee's final whistle blew, creating a stark juxtaposition between the sullen, heavy footsteps of the home fans trudging toward the exits and the Luton Town supporters showering the stands in beer to celebrate a resounding victory. To an outsider, one might have easily mistaken the stadium for Luton's own Kenilworth Road.
"Full-time here at Bramall Lane! With a final score of 2–0, the visitors, Luton Town, take all three points!"
"We anticipated a tight, fiercely contested clash, but Lee Han's first-half brace, followed by his knack for drawing a red card in the second half, allowed Luton to manage the game with supreme composure."
"Indeed. Lee Han's clinical finishing, which continues to burn red-hot this season, was nothing short of extraordinary."
"What makes this performance truly meaningful is that both goals demonstrated his ability to use his feet at an elite level. It feels like a genuine turning point in his development."
"You could say he spent the entire pre-season sharpening his blade, and it's paid off handsomely."
Substituted off around the seventieth minute to preserve his stamina, Lee Han—or rather, Lee Yeon—had concluded an EFL Championship league debut that only he truly understood. In particular, his solo run from the edge of the penalty arc, leaving four opponents including the goalkeeper completely stranded before slotting home, showcased precisely what kind of presence he was on the pitch today: a force of nature.
"For Gordon, this is an absolute dream scenario. While no one ever questioned Lee Han's raw ability, adapting to an entirely new tactical setup and deploying an unproven system always carries risk. Today yielded the best possible outcome."
"Spot on. They won the match, and the quality of their play was top-tier. Gordon will walk away with immense confidence after today's showing."
"Moving forward, Luton Town's tactical flexibility is going to be terrifying. It's almost as if they possess two entirely different archetypes of strikers wrapped into one man, ready to be deployed at the manager's whim. Dribbling, hold-up play, aerial dominance—he has it all in his locker."
"Undoubtedly. Rival managers facing Luton Town this season are going to suffer quite a few migraines. Haha."
During the competitive season, Luton Town was a hive of frantic activity.
The relentless barrage of transfer inquiries pouring in for Lee Han following his recent performances was entirely uncharted territory for a club that had been competing in the third division only a few years prior.
"Reject every single transfer bid this season. NFS—Not For Sale. You understand, right?"
Though holding the title of vice chairwoman, Adelia Myers was practically running every department herself, given that the club owner and chairman had little hands-on interest in football operations. In effect, her perspective was Luton Town FC's official stance.
She had no desire to see even the faintest transfer rumors surrounding Lee Han surface in the press.
Even with the winter transfer window months away, over a dozen discreet approaches had already trickled in through backchannels. While the contract extension signed during the pre-season secured him for a substantial duration, his buyout clause looked like pocket change considering his current trajectory. It was only natural that anxiety gnawed at her.
"What has you looking so troubled?"
"Ah, Boss."
In truth, such anxieties were better shelved for the moment. Today was the official signing day for Manager Gordon's contract extension.
Appointed in haste when the club was languishing in a four-match losing skid down in League One, Gordon had completely overhauled the team that very season, capping off a remarkable turnaround with a flawless promotion via the playoffs. While her greatest accomplishment as vice chairwoman in recent memory was tying Lee Han down to a swift new deal, back then, her crowning achievement had been leveraging her personal network to bring this veteran manager on board.
"So today we're just capturing the signing pose, correct?"
"Yes. Just the photos for our social media channels," replied Jeremy, the media and PR team's photographer, who had stepped in behind Gordon.
Technically, the contract had already been finalized during the pre-season alongside Lee Han's renewal and published on the club's official notice board. Even so, evocative imagery was vital to satisfy supporter expectations, and the PR department wasn't foolish enough to let the milestone of his two-year anniversary slip by unnoticed.
Perhaps for that very reason, Gordon, who typically wandered about in casual training gear, sat poised on the sofa of the vice chairwoman's office clad in a sharp suit.
"Still, to think two full years have already passed."
"Time flies, doesn't it? Just wait until you're my age—it slips away even faster."
"You haven't changed a bit, Boss."
His playfully gruff tone allowed Adelia to momentarily step away from the tangled web of club administration and reminisce about the events of two years ago.
The eccentric old grandfather living next door who happened to love football turned out to possess a UEFA Pro License. Aside from lacking prior managerial experience at the senior helm, his pedigree was immaculate. Discovering that he had kept his past quiet—having lifted the Champions League trophy both as an elite player and as a coach—had been a jaw-dropping revelation.
Pushing those memories aside, Adelia retrieved two prepared contract documents from her desk drawer, mindful of her duties.
"Could you two please strike the pose first?"
At Jeremy's direction, the pair adopted the classic signing posture over the desk. The shutter clicked as Gordon penned his signature, then again as Adelia signed beneath him, and concluded only after they posed side by side holding up a custom Luton Town jersey emblazoned with '2036' on the back.
"Boss, we'll be counting on you for the next four years."
"The pleasure is mine. I look forward to our work together."
With a courteous nod, Jeremy packed his equipment and departed, leaving just the two of them in the quiet office.
"I must admit, I wondered if four years wasn't a bit excessive."
"It's not as though we have a roster of elite managers lined up to replace you anyway. So please, give it your all."
Unless they were somehow in a position to recruit a world-renowned superstar manager, sacking him would be meaningless; she couldn't imagine finding anyone better suited for the project.
"Four years is a substantial stretch of time."
"Short enough if we want to earn promotion to the top flight and challenge for silverware. Though naturally, our immediate objective is simply surviving in the Championship."
"No, that's not quite what I meant."
Gordon's tone shifted, taking on a far more solemn weight than before.
"An old man like me remains constant, but younger folks like yourself can change in the blink of an eye. And for footballers, four years is an eternity."
"...We already have one player whose changes are so dizzying they give me a migraine."
"That's only because you pay him special attention. Treat him like any other footballer on the books, and there's nothing to lose sleep over."
"......I suppose so."
Both of them knew full well that treating him like an ordinary player was impossible. Furthermore, Adelia saw right through the underlying motive behind Gordon's philosophical preamble.
"In any case, since it is such a long road ahead—"
"Boss, I cannot increase the transfer budget."
"......"
At her blunt interjection, the light vanished from Gordon's eyes.
"......Not even a modest bump?"
"No. Absolutely not. We have just enough to bring in one decent addition during the winter window, and that's it."
"Truly?"
"Have a safe trip home, Boss."
Deciding there was no need to prolong the discussion, she gently nudged the veteran manager toward the exit and out of the office.
A soft click echoed as the door shut, leaving Gordon standing alone in the hallway, looking rather crestfallen with his tie slightly skewed.
No man stood tall before the harsh reality of finances.
Not even a legendary football manager.