Acquisition and Exploitation (2)
Suddenly—what the hell was that?
I turned my head and scanned every direction. Besides Pro An Hyeonju, there was no one. The voice had rung in my ear with absolute clarity. Yet no matter how hard I looked, nothing was there. Don't tell me it's a ghost…
"Ah! The good stuff!!"
A memory hit me like a spark. Grandma had said it for certain. I put a few good things in for you! The ability to see people's unique auras was already astonishing—an outright benefit. When I spoke with someone, I could roughly sense what they were thinking. A kind of supplementary power for reading the other person. And there were even more privileges on top of that??
"G-good stuff?"
A tremor ran through the hand I was still shaking. Pro An Hyeonju looked thoroughly flustered. The way I'd said it—anyone watching would have drawn the wrong conclusion. Holding a woman's hand and muttering about "good stuff"…
"Haha… I'm just really glad I get to shake hands with you in person like this, Pro!"
I papered over the moment with an awkward laugh.
Golf Talent — Acquire or Exploit?
What exactly was the difference? Both seemed to install a talent, but the flavor of the words was completely different.
Acquire: A positive connection with the target continues. Acquisition rate is lower than Exploitation.
And if I Exploit?
Exploit: A negative connection is formed. The higher the acquisition rate, the stronger the negative bond becomes.
Once I heard the explanation, it made sense.
Acquire or Exploit?
5… 4… 3… 2…
"Acquire!!"
I shouted it without thinking. There was no reason to form a negative bond with such a beautiful pro.
Golf Talent acquired.
Physical stats apply as a bonus effect.
Acquisition rate is…
Right—what's the rate?
Life Level too low. Precise numerical value cannot be calculated.
"……."
Is this some kind of game? What's with the level talk all of a sudden??
Merit points from previous life and current life have been deducted.
M-merit points??
"……."
No dramatic reaction appeared on the spot. No flash of light like in a sci-fi movie. Only—
Snap!
Pro An Hyeonju flinched hard and yanked her hand free. A chill settled into her eyes. I had clearly been flagged as a pervert or some mentally off student…
"Coach. Please teach me some golf!"
"R-right now?"
"Yes!"
First priority was getting out of the crisis. I needed to erase the misunderstanding. Grabbing a woman's hand and yelling "Acquire"… that wasn't even dialogue from a third-rate anime.
"Midterms are next week. Aren't you taking the exam?"
"Exams are taken with your everyday ability. Hahaha."
I laughed heartily, but her face stayed blank. Then—
"Any golf experience?"
"Today's my first time!"
Even while I was being ostracized by the people at the company in my past life, I had never gotten near a golf course. I couldn't even afford used clubs. Lessons had been completely out of the question.
"I'm busy from five. I'll give you a quick look."
"Really? Thank you so much, Pro An Hyeonju, Coach!"
I bowed my head several times. In a few years, people would line up for lessons from Noona An Hyeonju. A golf angel with temporarily clipped wings.
"You'll need clubs, right?"
"Yes!"
"Go to the office. There are a few sets off to the side. Pick whichever one you like and take it."
"Sorry? Take it?"
A full set of clubs wasn't cheap. Even used, anything decent cost real money. And she was telling me to just take one.
"They're things your seniors left behind. I felt bad throwing them out, so I kept them. If you need one, take it."
"Ah…"
Those silver-spoon seniors, after all. I'll put it to good use. The words of genuine thanks didn't quite leave my mouth. Right now I had the means to own clubs of that level myself. But for the bigger picture, even small spending was off-limits.
I headed for the office she had indicated. It was tidy—just the essentials: a computer, a few pieces of equipment, a four-person sofa, and a water cooler.
"Just how many sets are there?"
More than ten abandoned golf sets were stacked against one wall. Even a glance at the bags showed they were high-end full sets.
"Money must be rotting on the vine."
I shook my head and rummaged for one that caught my eye. Then a black leather golf bag practically leapt into view. The clubs peeking out all gleamed silver mixed with pearl.
"Taylor? Isn't this the expensive one?"
I lifted the bag.
"Cheonghwa High really is something. Free stuff like this."
In my previous school life I could never have imagined the luxury of Cheonghwa High's environment.
I slung the heavy bag over my shoulder and returned to where the pro was practicing.
"Going with that one?"
"Yes!"
"Good choice. Innovative tech is built in, so even beginners can use it without much trouble."
"Do pros use something completely different?"
"Once you reach pro level, you order custom clubs fitted to your body type."
"Ah!"
"Want to try a driver?"
"Is that all right?"
"Heh. Have a hot experience first, then we'll talk."
Pro An Hyeonju handed me a golf glove with a playful look. The expression said she wanted me to understand golf was no easy sport.
"Watch the swing carefully."
She took the driver and settled into her stance. Then—
Whooooosh!
A clean swing accompanied by a bright, crisp sound. Her short skirt fluttered with the rotation of her body.
Crack!
The ball struck pure and flew dead straight toward the center.
"Whoa."
The admiration escaped on its own. She hadn't earned the name of golf goddess for nothing. Even the freeze of her finish was perfect. The golfwear fitted her frame exactly, and the movement traced a precise body line. Cool and beautiful—like downing a cold iced americano on a scorching summer day.
"Did you get a good look?"
"Perfect! Looks and skill—both top-tier!"
I clapped three times and threw in a thumbs-up. Color rose gently across the pro's face. I called her Coach, but she was still a woman in her early twenties, and my social experience ran longer. She was one person who had just heard gallery cheers again after a long time. The stiffness that had been in her face at first softened a great deal.
"Golf is usually defined in five stages: address, backswing, downswing, impact, and finish. All right—grab the driver and take your stance."
The real lesson began.
"Feet shoulder-width apart, and hold the club like this with your hands. Remember my swing form in your head. Since you're a complete beginner, watch out for fat shots. If you mess up, the shock can travel all the way to your wrists and lower back."
She even corrected my fingers to teach the grip. The way she casually touched my hands was kind. The sense I received told me her character was good. Once a certain amount of time passed, even overflowing money wouldn't buy private lessons from her. Bucket-list items I had never imagined for high-school life. One of them was coming true right now.
"Now give it a light swing."
Following Pro An Hyeonju's instruction, I swung the driver lightly through the air.
Whoosh!
"Huh?"
No hesitation, no resistance at all. Instead, the pro let out a startled sound at how clean my swing was.
"Is this… really your first time?"
"Yes."
"Then why… is the swing so natural?"
"Then maybe… I'm some kind of golf prodigy?"
"What? Prodigy? Hahahahaha."
She laughed at the light joke, a clear, ringing sound. She wore the teacher nameplate, but when you looked closely she was only a few years older. In terms of real-life experience, I had more. Even during university and my working years I had occasionally held conversations with women. Having lived among people first was one of the life skills I had acquired.
I settled into a proper stance next.
"Form looks good."
It really was my first time. Even I was thrown by how naturally the club settled into my hands.
Whirr. Tick.
The automatic ball feeder set a ball on the tee. And then—
Whooooosh!
Crack!
"Hah!"
The ball, struck pure, streaked straight out. Thud! It hit the exact center of the circle painted at the top middle of the net. Even An Hyeonju herself only managed that center circle a few times a day. Judging by ball flight and swing speed, it was easily 280 meters or more. And this was supposed to be someone who had never touched a golf club?
The posture had been perfect, too!!
An Hyeonju replayed the student's swing in her mind. From address through the finish, every piece had been flawless. He was tall and lean—yet the power in the swing didn't match that frame. Looking at the hip turn and wrist release, he was at least semi-pro level.
She studied the student carefully again. Second-year Ha Taewoong. At first she had wondered if he was joking or simply a pervert. Now and then there were parents or children of school executives who used lessons as an excuse to cross lines. The very reason she had been pushed all the way into a high school was sexual harassment.
Early last year she had been preparing for the LPGA Tour. Her skill and condition hadn't been bad. She had lifted a few trophies on the domestic circuit. A corporate sponsor had come on board. Caddie fees and tour costs were hard for an individual to cover alone. Even winning a tour event, after taxes and practice expenses, could leave you in the red. Without solid family support, the LPGA was impossible without ads and sponsors.
Her looks and ability had secured a fairly good sponsor. Shinyang Financial Holdings, a major financial group, became her main backer. She had played rounds with people who had sponsored her on and off since her teens. It was part of the business manual every golf pro had to handle. If her father's business hadn't gone under, she never would have needed to go through it.
As the family situation worsened, An Hyeonju had earned solid pocket money through golf. The problem started after the meeting with the chairman of Shinyang Financial. Her lasting impression of him was simply a bald middle-aged man. He had started making advances even before the round. Through his secretarial office he had openly demanded she wear a skirt, and he had ordered her to attend the drinking session after the round as well.
She normally stayed away from alcohol and should have refused, but he was the key sponsor, so she accepted. The unwanted round began. She was paired with the chairman. Using the excuse of checking her address, he made frequent contact. The entire round proceeded under a cloud of discomfort. Then, inevitably, it blew up.
At the evening drinking table, the thoroughly drunk bald man wrapped an arm around her waist. He pressed his face close to her ear and, in a whisper, demanded she sleep with him. It was blatant, as if it were habit. The hotel was already reserved, he said; if she just behaved, he would put a billion won in her hand on the spot.
Humiliated, An Hyeonju slapped the chairman across the face right there. Leaving the staff who knew nothing of the circumstances behind, she stormed out. A few days later the sponsorship was terminated. Almost no group or mid-to-small company in Korea did business without some connection to Shinyang Financial Holdings. Word of An Hyeonju's "personality problems" spread through the industry at lightning speed, all of it negative.
In reality she had been acting as the head of her household. With financial support cut off, she survived on private lessons. But as she grew exhausted, her skill plateaued. Stress wrecked her condition, and her rankings in various domestic tournaments slid steadily downward. Fortunately, the wife of a chaebol who had looked after her helped her settle at Cheonghwa High.
Cheonghwa High owned a top-tier practice range. She landed there on the condition that she assist with student golf culture classes and give lessons to parents and a few school officials. Yet school life remained empty and dull. Even in an educational setting, men openly approached her with their desires. Of course there were also rotten kids among the students who sent her disrespectful looks. With nowhere left to run, she was grit-teeth enduring.
At first she had assumed Ha Taewoong belonged to that same category—high-school boys who used lessons as an excuse to force skinship. And yet—
Crack!
Ha Taewoong launched another ball with the driver. It struck the center target again.
"Golf's easier than I thought, huh?"
He joked while still holding the driver. An Hyeonju stared straight at him. The swing mechanics were already pro-level. Without realizing it, she bit her lip hard.
"Be honest. Who taught you?"