Chapter 6
Chapter 6
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Park Chan-hyuk Heads to Germany
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Park Chan-hyuk, heading to Germany.
***
Word spread that I'd been accepted for a study abroad program in Stuttgart.
Quite a few things happened.
“Son, do you really have to go?”
First, I had to convince my parents about heading to Germany for soccer studies.
They were worried about sending their underage son abroad alone.
“The association’s assigning a guardian, so no need to worry too much. And I’m pretty good at English.”
That said, convincing them wasn’t hard or anything.
“Fine, if a man’s made up his mind, then go. Come back anytime if it gets tough.”
“…Dad, I have to come back in a year because of the visa.”
“Son, facts aren’t as important as feelings.”
Both parents respected their child’s opinion.
‘Must be F types on the MBTI.’
Anyway, once I had their permission, I started preparing for Germany in earnest.
First up, I got a passport and began studying German.
I could get by in English, but German? Zero.
Learning the language of the place you’re going was key.
Didn’t the future world-class Son Heung-min say as much?
Learning the language shows respect for the country.
Personally, I agreed.
Don’t we Koreans feel fondness for foreigners who speak our language well?
Plus, as a defender, communication with other players was essential, so language skills were a must.
Even without that, if I was going to manage overseas someday, I’d need multiple languages.
‘English, German, Spanish, Portuguese at minimum?’
If a guy who obviously looks foreign chats in their native tongue, players would warm up fast.
Probably one of the few advantages for an Asian manager.
The other? Landing a top-tier main sponsor unfit for a lower league.
Once I took the reins as manager, Korean companies would line up, I bet.
‘Definitely, recruiting talented Korean players cheap and selling high as middlemen trade would be lucrative…’
That moment, I shook my head quick.
‘No, what am I thinking?’
Must’ve caught it from 21st-century slave trader Park Jung-ah.
‘Time to wrap up studying?’
After finishing, I headed to a nearby park for solo training.
Ever since getting picked as a student abroad, the manager had thrown a fit, so I couldn’t go back to the soccer team.
Not that I planned to anyway.
You avoid shit because it’s dirty, not because you’re scared.
Wanted to hit the manager with “Life’s about real combat, you prick,” over the violence.
Even if reported to police, odds of real investigation were low.
Regrettably, that’s how it was back then.
If low teacher authority’s the future issue, low student rights were the problem now.
Later, when retiring early as a player, I could blame the manager.
‘Say the injury from his beating worsened and forced retirement—manager’d love that, right?’
Not sure when, but I looked forward to it.
***
While I prepped for Germany in earnest.
“The Lotto 1st prize numbers are 6, 30, 38, 39, 40, 43.”
Our family finally hit the Lotto jackpot.
The prize we’d claim? A whopping 14 billion won.
Thanks to the rollover. Lotto hadn’t been revised yet, so each ticket cost 2,000 won.
Would’ve bought more, but allowance ran dry—only one ticket possible.
2,000 won per ticket felt huge.
Minimum wage was 2,275 won an hour back then.
Basically, one ticket meant an hour’s work.
We’d escaped dire poverty, but with no real financial cushion, dumping 10,000 won weekly into unpredictable Lotto was tough.
Sure, regretted not buying five right after, but hey.
Still, 14 billion won in hand.
‘14 billion…!’
While I hugged my sister in joy over the astronomical sum.
Her face was dark, like she feared something.
‘Scared our family might change?’
Having talked about her past life, I just held her quietly.
“Ah! You’re suffocating me!”
She got prickly in the sappy mood, snapping for no reason.
“Take that! And that!”
I countered with a noogie.
***
“How do we explain this to Mom and Dad? Any good ideas, sis?”
“…Say the late grandpa told us?”
“He’s not dead yet, you brat.”
“…”
“You just jinxed me, didn’t you?”
“Hehe, busted.”
Before parents got home, we puzzled over explaining the Lotto win.
“K-Kids… W-What do we do?”
But it resolved easier than expected.
Mom came home trembling, hands shaking.
I’d mentioned Grandpa, which bugged her, so she’d been buying Lotto with our numbers daily.
Oh, and Mom later skimped too—down to one ticket like us.
‘O-oppa?’
‘What’ve we been doing all this time?’
Sister and I swapped quick glances.
Then handed her the awkward winning ticket from my pocket. No explanation needed.
“We’ll talk to Dad, but this is for you kids to use.”
Mom smiled awkwardly and gave it back.
“But how’d you buy Lotto? You’re minors—can’t.”
“…I’ll explain at dinner.”
That evening.
“It’s true…”
“Sorry!”
Sister and I knelt before Dad, back late from overtime at work, begging forgiveness.
“…So that’s why the neighbors looked at me like that. I see.”
Slight excuse: didn’t expect Dad’s rep to tank this bad.
Early 2000s, where barbarism and intellect coexisted.
Teachers smacked moody students silly; parents drunk-beating kids was “discipline,” not abuse—romantic era.
Neighbor kids’ screams and cries echoed now and then.
Honestly, Dad’s image shouldn’t have plummeted this far.
What we overlooked? Our parents’ rep.
They were the neighborhood lovebirds. People loved seeing happy couples fall.
“…Fine, what’s done is done.”
Anyway, after hearing it all, Dad forgave his kids’ mistake readily.
Next day.
Dad brought a wooden box.
‘Here it comes.’
Instinct screamed it was a “duryu”—the old punishment lockup.
“…Oppa, what’re you doing?”
I stuffed sister in.
Too small for me, so it was hers.
“…Son, what’s this?”
Dad sounded flustered; I asked puzzled.
“Isn’t locking bad kids in the duryu box common sense?”
“This ain’t a duryu.”
I quietly pulled sister out.
“…”
Then desperately ignored her icy glare.
***
Family held a strategy meeting.
Sudden windfalls could lead to ruin.
Two main agenda items.
First: splitting the Lotto we bought.
Unanimous family decision.
Post-claim, prize goes to me and sister.
Parents wanted to manage due to her age, but per her input, I’d handle it.
Said I’d manage, but really, she’d invest. Knew the future better.
Second: family living arrangements.
Split opinions.
“But with friends and jobs here, moving abroad feels off, right?”
Parents, with jobs and ties in Korea, wanted to stay.
“You’ll have it rough working in Korea now.”
Sister and I, knowing 1st prize winners get hounded by media and folks, wanted out—abroad, or wait till things quieted.
‘How long can we hide the win?’
Early 2000s.
Personal info? No protection.
Stake out claim banks, spot suspected winners, mob for interviews—articles galore.
Even airtight anonymity? Our family info’d spread nationwide in under five days.
Reporters tracked homes, called acquaintances and colleagues for scoops.
Few days later.
Just as sister and I predicted, post-claim, every type swarmed our house.
‘Same numbers till then, so share the prize? What gall?’
Charities demanding “donate or else” and cults yelling “no donation = hell” seemed saintly by comparison.
That evening, parents realized Korea was unlivable.
“Let’s all go to Germany.”
Family’s move to Germany locked in.
***
Dad quit work, prepped for immigration in earnest.
Reporters made going impossible.
Boss pitched investing in the company; Dad, nice guy but no sucker, submitted resignation on the spot.
[Company Angel, Home Tyrant?]
Papers spewed daily “heard-it-through-the-grapevine” crap about us.
Media and acquaintances tore into the win like a capital crime.
[Lotto Son Park Something-kun: Soccer Study Abroad on Tax Dollars Necessary?]
Prime media bait? Me.
[High School Coach Kim: Shocking Take on Park Chan-hyuk “Little Shit’s Got No Manners…”]
Noted prospect, less backlash than random civilian.
[Soccer Association on Park Chan-hyuk Selection… “Fair Pick Before Lotto Win.”]
While Korea buzzed over my study abroad.
Time flew.
Departure day neared.
Immigration prep—sis’s Berlin school, etc.—meant tons to do, so parents and sis set for next year.
Stuttgart club could’ve helped settle, but.
Regrettably, parents picked Berlin.
People gotta go capital no matter what?
Owing Dad, sis and I quietly followed parents’ wishes this time.
Anyway.
“Oppa, be safe.”
“Son, eat well.”
Leaving teary Mom, I approached sis.
“Sis, you’re head of house now.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry about me, oppa. I’ll take good care of Mom and Dad.”
“…Kids, head of house is right here.”