Chapter 3
Chapter 3
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: 2002: The Sister's Secret
-----------------------------------------------------------------
2002
***
Park Jung-ah.
In her previous life, she had been a famous idol.
She made her debut, received her settlement money after just one year, and everything felt like bliss.
But success at such a young age dragged her family into misery.
Her hardworking father fell into gambling at some point, and her mother cheated on him using the money she earned.
The whole family stopped working and looked to her alone.
To support them, she threw herself into broadcasts without mercy, but viewers who hated seeing that started flooding her with hate comments.
Surrounded by the indifference of her acquaintances, she slowly wasted away.
Then, one of her favorite novels suddenly went on indefinite hiatus.
All her pent-up negativity came pouring out at once.
When she came to her senses, she was on the verge of death.
‘If there’s a next life, I want to grow up loved in a harmonious family.’
That was her final memory.
And when she opened her eyes again.
She saw a poor but harmonious family—something she’d never had in her past life.
The only flaw was her brother.
- Park Jung-ah, you have to respect me. I was born a full seven years before you. I even changed your diapers, so it’s basically like I raised you.
Clearly, the guy calling himself her brother was a total lunatic.
***
At first, Park Jung-ah wondered if this brother was also someone who’d come back from the future to the past.
- Hail Hitler! Peace in our time! Make America great again! You have to respect me! Siuuuu—!
And who could blame her? He’d shouted Make America great again and Hail Hitler right by a newborn’s ear.
‘What the...? Is Bro a regressor or reincarnator too?’
But those suspicions quickly faded.
If her brother had returned from the future, there’s no way their family would still be this poor.
‘I have to pull this family out of poverty.’
She, the reincarnator, had to make it happen.
She did have some fear that if money came too suddenly, her current parents might turn into the ones from her past life.
“Stand up straight. Park Jung-ah. It hurts if the ball hits wrong.”
“Nooo!! I don’t wanna!!”
She was certain of one thing: this bastard using his four-year-old sister as a free-kick wall wasn’t going to change. No, she actually hoped he would.
‘I need to jot down the major events before I forget them.’
And so, while Jung-ah was organizing the key events.
Time flew by.
***
Aside from flinching at her brother’s roars now and then, her little brother grew up normally.
The only odd thing was his reaction to Siuuuu—he must’ve been born a footballer through and through.
“Park Jung-ah, go get me a glass of water.”
Anyway. Thanks to the early education, Park Jung-ah listened well.
‘All that whispering “respect your brother” in her ear whenever I had time really paid off.’
She did dump water on my face a few times by accident due to her clumsy nature.
“Dad!!!!!”
“Sorry, but Dad’s coming home in the evening.”
“It hurts!! Stop it! Waaah!”
Considering it was the savage nineties, that counted as pretty light discipline.
Anyway, a lot happened over the past seven years.
Around the time I entered middle school, we finally escaped the single-room shack we called home.
I teared up at the fact that I finally had some privacy.
“Stop bullying me and join the soccer club, you idiot!”
I didn’t join the elementary school soccer team.
I knew damn well I’d run into some weirdo coach and wreck my knees.
I knew the basic training mechanisms, so I handled it solo.
And for whatever I lacked, I’d set up Park Jung-ah and practice on her. A little sister really was multi-purpose.
I did lack match sense since I never played games...
‘Eh, that was never there to begin with, so all good!’
“Nooo. I don’t wanna!”
Anyway, Park Jung-ah occasionally rebelled like some tool with a budding ego.
“Should’ve been born earlier if it bothers you.”
But my unbeatable logic shut her down quick.
She looked like she had a lot she wanted to say to me, but I didn’t care.
Whatever. That was all over now.
“Been a while, huh.”
I was entering middle school and planning to join the soccer club.
Not playing in elementary school was a minor issue, but I’d already accounted for it.
“Hello, sir! I’m here because I want to join the soccer club!”
“Hm? Sure, what’s your name?”
“Park Chan-hyuk!”
“Hmm. Don’t think I’ve heard it before. Which elementary school did you play soccer at?”
“Never did! But I’m confident I’ll do well!”
“Hmm...”
The moment I heard the lukewarm tone from Coach Park Cheol-woong, I dropped to my knees and started bawling.
“Coach... I want to play soccer. I want to lift my poor family up with these two feet.”
At that instant, my spot on the team was basically locked in. Coach Park Cheol-woong was a Slam Dunk fan, and he quickly channeled the spirit of Teacher An, accepting me with open arms.
And so, I officially joined the soccer club and started playing.
“You’ve got a great physique, so give center back a try.”
Under the guise of testing the new recruit’s skills, a practice match began.
I eyed the field with a slightly cocky expression.
Middle school kids were my opponents.
My soccer experience was on another level compared to these runts.
No need to go all out.
Just marking them casually would be plenty...
Thud.
Wobble—.
‘Hm. That guy’s got big things ahead?’
I didn’t bother checking the opponent’s stats with Scouter.
Somehow, I had a feeling it’d hurt too much.
***
After conceding to a middle school kid due to my carelessness, I used my physique and some light pinching to completely shut down the other team’s striker. I’d zeroed in on the weaknesses I spotted with Scouter.
“Our ace only scored one goal against a total newbie? That make any sense?”
“No, seriously, Senior—that bastard plays soccer so dirty.”
Well. It seemed to piss off the second-year striker they called the ace.
“Oh, you’re our team’s ace? I could tell—your dribbling was on another level.”
“Ahem. You weren’t half bad yourself for a beginner.”
One compliment and he melted like the kid he was.
Someone might say it’s pathetic to go all-out against middle schoolers, but I had no shame. A lion always fights at full strength, even against the weak.
“Chan-hyuk, you be our team’s Kang Back-ho.”
“I’d rather be Seo Tae-woong.”
Coach Park Cheol-woong, who’d been watching the practice match, must’ve been impressed, because he put me in the starting lineup for the next game.
Most first-years are just benchwarmers fetching water, but center back made it possible to play. Talented kids get filtered out attacker-midfielder-defender style, so CB competition was always low.
“Ref! This guy keeps pinching me!”
“Me? When? Don’t slander me.”
Every game I played, I locked down my mark tight.
Before long, they started calling me the ‘Devil’s Right Arm,’ and I was even mentioned as a youth national team candidate.
‘...Huh? Do I have soccer talent?’
***
But the good times didn’t last.
Right when things were buzzing with the youth national team call-ups.
“Chan-hyuk, sorry. I’m so sorry.”
A drunk Coach Park Cheol-woong showed up at our house out of the blue, apologized, and left.
‘Lost out somewhere other than skill, huh.’
In that moment, I grasped the situation.
Coach Park Cheol-woong wasn’t part of the mainstream, just like me in my past life.
The association president was deliberately pushing alliances lately to break up the internal factions, but the old guard’s influence was still strong.
‘School ties, regional ties, blood ties—so damn annoying!’
Oh, and don’t think that means the alliances were clean.
The alliance lines they were pushing at the time all went down in corruption scandals later. Just think of the association guys as all the same.
‘No connection to the national team, I guess.’
Anyway, shoving aside the regret, I focused on the present.
No media was gonna listen to some kid whining about youth team selection.
Time flew by. I became a third-year middle schooler, and my sister turned nine.
The 2002 World Cup wrapped up successfully, and around the time the association president who’d played a key role in hosting it emerged as a strong presidential candidate.
“Bro. I need to talk to you.”
My sister came into my room.
***
December 2002, amid the noise of the 16th presidential election.
The first-ever Lotto draw on December 2 was selling like crazy, whipping up a frenzy.
But it had nothing to do with me.
If I’d won the lotto, I could’ve scraped together study-abroad funds for soccer, but unfortunately, I didn’t know the numbers.
Who memorizes lotto numbers in case they regress? That’s not a sane person—that’s a psycho.
I was normal, so I hadn’t memorized lotto numbers preparing for regression.
‘Are all the protagonists in those webnovels total nutjobs?’
I was inwardly cursing the flood of regressor stories in webnovels when.
Knock knock—.
“Bro. I need to talk to you.”
My sister knocked, then opened the door and came in.
I stared at her face.
It felt kinda weird.
‘Did our parents really pick her up from under a bridge?’
Mixing in a bit of unfilial thinking, it was hard to believe that face came from our parents’ genes.
‘She wasn’t switched at the hospital, right...?’
She’d recently gotten some casting call on the street for a child actor or model gig, but she turned it down.
At first, she’d seemed to put up walls with the family, but lately, it felt like she’d fully opened her heart to us.
She used to blow up in flames whenever our eyes met, now that she was growing up a bit.
But for some reason, today she came into my room first.
“Bro.”
“What. Quit calling me.”
“...Don’t think what I’m about to say is weird.”
My sister hemmed and hawed for a while after coming in.
“I’m a reincarnator. In my past life, I was a super famous celebrity.”
She hurriedly added.
“And I know the next lotto numbers!”
I nodded calmly at her words. I was a regressor too, so why couldn’t my sister be a reincarnator?
“There’s a crazy bitch right here.”
But strangely, the moment I finished speaking, her face went pale as a ghost.