A Difference in Class
These days, every single day felt like a dream.
The night I'd held Jia in my arms hadn't felt real. I still couldn't believe it.
Even though we'd done it dozens — hundreds — of times before, the intensity of what came at me now was completely different.
I was just so happy.
There was just one problem.
They say the first time is the hardest, and everything after comes easy.
"Yujin."
"…Again today?"
"You don't want to?"
"…I'm fine with it."
"Hehe. Then let's do it. Noona will take good care of you."
"…"
Jia asked for it whenever she got the chance.
By my count, we'd done it at least once a day since my birthday.
I knew she had a high sex drive.
I'd known from my previous life — but I never expected it to be this intense already.
I'm glad she likes it.
Every time, after bringing her close to blacking out, the smile she wore while I held her was so beautiful. I hadn't meant to go all out, but I couldn't help putting in the effort just to see that smile.
This really feels like a dream.
Now, even pinching my cheek brought real pain — this was reality. The joy of becoming one with her, body and soul. The care she put in for my sake. The pleasure that bloomed from all of it.
She's doing okay at work, right?
Given how close she'd come to blacking out yesterday, I was a little worried. With still so little experience, it might be hard on her.
Before the home match against Burnley, I was sitting with an expression that couldn't decide whether it was good or bad, when Padric came over and dropped into the seat beside me.
"Kid. Something wrong?"
"Not really."
"Hmm…"
Padric looked me up and down, then tossed the words out casually.
"Woman trouble?"
"…What?"
"Ah, right — you said you had a girlfriend. What, is she pregnant?"
"What?"
Something shot past at high speed, and I just blinked.
"Is that it? Hey! The kid just became a da—"
"I think that's enough."
I smiled and covered his mouth. Padric nodded.
"…Fine. Look, whatever the case — if you're not planning on a kid, make damn sure about contraception."
"It's not like that."
"Just giving advice."
"Yeah, well. How do you think today's match will go?"
"Shall we casually put in three?"
"And conceded goals?"
"That's the captain's job."
"Haha."
I was laughing and chatting with Padric, who always got where I was coming from, when before I knew it the time to take the pitch had arrived.
Contraception… we did take care of that, right…?
We'd been careful, but Padric's words had me fretting over nothing.
Burnley currently sat seventeenth in the EPL. Unlike Arsenal, who were playing to claim first place in the league, they were locked in what people called a relegation scrap.
Even as a lower-table Premier League side, every single point from a match was critical — and they played with total sincerity all the same. Relatively low in the standings or not, Burnley was by no means a weak team. If they were, they wouldn't be playing in the English Premier League at all.
The side that walked into the Emirates Stadium might not have been a powerhouse, but they were no pushovers either.
Standing on the grass, that was what I told myself as the match began.
Fifth minute of the first half.
Something faintly absurd happened.
From the flank, I took the ball Hong Seoin had rolled into my path and, using my left foot, curled it straight on.
That felt good.
A stance as quick as a macro, a trajectory that bent and kept bending. The ball slipped past the tips of the opposing keeper's fingers and nestled into the side netting.
"…Huh."
I'd hit it so casually that even I was a little surprised.
What was that.
I scratched my head for a moment, then went straight to the corner flag for the celebration.
And when Hong Seoin followed it up with another curling strike from distance, one fact settled into place.
…We're just in a different weight class, aren't we?
Thanks to Wright, there wasn't a single real crisis. Arsenal was simply hammering away at Burnley's goal as a matter of course. I wasn't even putting in the kind of monstrous work rate I had against Bayern Munich, and the match still felt easy.
The class gap I'd felt playing against Bayern Munich was showing itself in reverse against Burnley.
So that's why he said three goals, casually.
Padric's personality played a part, sure — but the difference in class had been there from the start. Matches like this must have been the norm even without me.
Confidence rising, I received the ball at the center circle and drove forward with pure aggression. The moment an opposing player closed in to press, I knocked it the other way and slipped past him cleanly, carrying the ball upfield without a hint of danger. When I shrugged off the next wave of pressure, a passing lane opened between the opposing center-backs who'd pushed their line high.
Simon's timing on the run. My timing on the pass. The center-backs' momentary lapse.
A path that only existed if every single one of those pieces fell into place.
Riding that surge of confidence, I sold a simple fake and swung through with the instep of my foot. Even if it got cut out and they counterattacked, Wright would deal with it the way he always had.
"Simon!"
A low, fast pass timed perfectly by eye found the feet of Simon as he burst through. One touch and a run, and it was a one-on-one chance.
At that golden scoring opportunity, the Arsenal home fans were just starting to rise — half expectation, half ready to roar — when—
Thwack—! Claaang—!
Simon's shot smashed off the crossbar and bounced away. He got to the dropping ball first with a header, but that effort sailed wide of the goal.
"…Yujin. I'm retiring."
Looking sheepish, Simon came over and offered the excuse.
He didn't have to do that for me.
An assist had almost materialized and then vanished, but I wasn't particularly angry.
The Emirates Stadium had turned into a festival once again.
Not a single cry from the Burnley away fans could be heard, and the match itself was Arsenal attacking as a matter of course.
Hugging the touchline, Baek Yujin took the incoming pass and, without killing the ball's speed, stabbed a non-stop through ball with the pure momentum of the pass itself.
Davis collected it at full speed and ran. When a pressing defender slowed him down, Davis slipped the ball between the man's legs and laid it off to Baek Yujin, who was arriving in support.
Instead of playing the one-two into the box, Baek Yujin checked the area and lofted a cross toward Hong Seoin, standing in open space. Before a center-back could close, Hong Seoin turned his body and struck a volley clean.
A turning volley without a single degree of error — a wonder goal — and the home fans erupted. At the same time, the away supporters began filing out one by one.
Not long after, the referee blew the final whistle.
Scoreline: 5–0.
An overwhelming Arsenal victory born of a difference in class. A result that almost felt unfair to Burnley.