Chapter 67
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: After Advancing to the Quarterfinals, Urgent Summons
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UEFA Cup Round of 16.
Ewood Park.
vs Parma.
Over 30,000 Blackburn fans belted out the "Wild Rovers" chant, giving the Italian visitors a raucous welcome.
Parma's ironclad three-back defense was as formidable as ever, but even so, the manager had prepared an attacking lineup.
Still, several key players were missing from today's roster.
Yoo Sung-chul was off touring the Middle East and North Africa with Hiddink's squad, while Southgate and Kevin Phillips had been called up for England duty. Duff was with the Irish national team too. Today was a mix of veterans and prospects.
----James Beattie----
------Roberto Baggio----
Barry - Paul Ince — Gattuso - Figo
Bridge - Berg - Mellberg - Holland
-----Peter Schmeichel-----
With Baggio and Figo still in the mix, it was manageable.
The Turin chairman wasn't there today, and Parma's away fans had bused in en masse from Manchester Airport, swallowing up an entire section of Ewood Park.
Kickoff.
Already trailing on aggregate, Parma came out guns blazing on the attack.
Conceição, Yoann Micoud, and Di Biagio charged forward, forcing openings.
All four mids in their 3-4-3 were committed from the start, leaving the back three to hold and throwing everything forward.
Micoud dribbled and unleashed a long-range shot.
But Schmeichel read it perfectly and snatched the ball.
Even at 37, with some wear and tear showing, he was still a goalkeeper of class.
He'd lost his league starting spot to Friedel, but he'd logged plenty of minutes in the EFL Cup, FA Cup, and UEFA Cup this season, putting in stellar performances.
Schmeichel passed to Holland, who switched play centrally to Gattuso.
Gattuso drove forward before whipping it right to Figo.
Figo took one touch and rifled a sublime long-range effort, but Parma's keeper Buffon punched it clear.
Wave after wave of attacks followed, only for Thuram and Cannavaro to snuff them out cold. Even when we broke through two, Buffon stood like a fortress.
A draw would see us advance anyway.
Parma knew it too, so they defended stoutly while hammering away relentlessly at our goal. Our backline wasn't world-class like theirs, but it was rock-solid.
The Nordic duo of Mellberg and Berg dominated physically today, while Ince—subbed by Parker late on—dropped into the midfield three to choke the center.
Both halves dragged on with super saves from Buffon and Schmeichel, until the clock finally ticked down to full time at 90 minutes.
A 0-0 home draw made it a 1-0 aggregate win. We'd beaten Parma and advanced to the UEFA Cup quarterfinals.
The players swapped jerseys, steeling themselves to face a Spanish or French side next in the last eight.
'Skipping Lunar New Year altogether, sending just a faxed report, and now this—too wrapped up in that damn football?'
I finally got an earful and made it back to Korea late.
Not like we don't have our own businesses to run.
From the European branch, I'd delivered results far exceeding expectations—not just in football, but across the board—driving Daeyang Group's growth.
Plus, my brother was holding down HQ as president, with all the key executives there. Why drag me back to Korea when I was crushing it?
I felt a twinge about missing New Year—though even during my studies abroad, I'd skipped a few with permission.
Anyway, I was back in Korea.
Incheon International on Yeongjongdo was just months from opening, so I'd probably fly in and out of there instead of Gimpo from now on.
"Vice Chairman, you've arrived?"
"This way, sir."
Lee Min-guk, director from Daeyang Group's secretariat, and his staff took my bags and ushered me to the car.
I let out a long breath as soon as I sat down and turned to the director.
"Why's Father summoning me so urgently?"
"How could we know family matters like the Chairman's?"
"Not that. Father values family, sure, but he doesn't blow up like this over missing a work event."
"Well, that is..."
"What? There must be something I need to know."
The director hemmed and hawed before speaking carefully.
"During the New Year holidays after the family ancestral rite, the Chairman hosted 'Daeyang Night,' a big gala. Folks from the Federation of Korean Industries, the Chamber of Commerce, plus heavyweights from business, politics, and culture all showed up."
"And I ghosted it?"
"..."
I had a hunch, but it was weird—Father hated big social galas like that.
Sure, he enjoyed golf or deep-sea fishing with close chairman buddies, but packing the house with crowds? Not his style.
And the car wasn't heading to the Jongno HQ but straight to the Pyeongchangdong house.
Still daytime during work hours, yet straight home? Even stranger. The secretariat must've called ahead; we pulled up right at the front.
"Son~"
"Oppa, you're here?"
Mom and Seol-ah greeted me warmly, grabbing my hands tight.
The house staff bowed too, which only deepened the mystery.
This welcome was over the top.
Family or not, their clinginess felt oddly familiar.
I unpacked, showered, and came out to find Mom had set out tea and snacks.
"Life in England treating you okay? Oh, look at your face. All that fried food and bread's made it so dry and dull."
"No, I eat well there—plenty of Korean food too..."
"Sang-woo's been swamped building that clubhouse in Busan. Long-distance is tough enough without you piling on the work."
The Busan Daeyang Royals project was one thing, and I'd planned to swing by Korea for the opening in a couple months. But here we were.
"So, what's going on?"
Mom just smiled silently.
And my little sister Seol-ah kept stealing glances at my face.
"You should've come for New Year."
"What the hell for...?"
"Oppa, seeing anyone in England?"
Ah, was that it?
"Dae-chul's grandkid's already past their first birthday, and you? Not a peep. You're twenty-nine now."
"Right in my prime, though?"
"Shh, no more of that nonsense."
That explained it.
That New Year gala must've been a matchmaking bash—eligible ladies rounded up, elders chatting up marriages.
"Get dressed. Head to the Walton Hotel—Father's there now."
"Right this second?"
"He knew you'd come. Said he'd stick around late tonight."
"Oppa, I'll make the call."
Mom and Seol-ah bustled about, pulling out what looked like brand-new suit, shirt, tie, and even a luxury watch—clearly prepped for today.
At the Walton Hotel, staff guided me straight to the reservation.
Father sat in the elegant restaurant with two others.
One was a Korean man in his early fifties, the other a white woman about the same age.
"Father."
"Ah, you made it."
He pulled out a chair for me, and the man opposite greeted me warmly.
A well-built figure in a sharp suit extended his hand.
"Pleased to meet you. I'm Professor Kim Young-hwi from the education sector."
"Lee Dae-hyun."
"Hey, nice to meet you."
"Ma'am, your Korean's excellent."
"I work here, after all."
We shook hands, and Father explained.
"That's Kim Young-hwi, dean of engineering at Kyungkuk University, and his wife, Margaret Kim, an English literature professor."
"!"
Kim Young-hwi—the guy from the university board chairman's family?
Later he'd become president and hit up Daeyang Group for sponsorship; we built and donated the massive Daeyang Hall.
Right, he was UK study-abroad stock too, famous for marrying a Brit in an international professor power couple.
"This is my second son. Told him to come for New Year, but some business kept him away. Haha!"
"Looks like Vice Chairman Lee Dae-hyun's swamped with UK operations?"
"Ah, well, I've been putting in work to fend off a 'hostile takeover' from a rival firm..."
"Enough—"
That was when it happened.
Click-clack— Click-clack—
Heels echoed. I turned to see a stunning woman heading our way.
"!"
Blonde in a black suit and handbag.
Subtle makeup on flawless fair skin, petite face, sapphire-blue eyes, cascading golden hair, and a faint perfume that tickled straight to the heart.
The kind of beauty who'd turn heads anywhere, she approached quietly and bowed to the Kim couple.
"Father, Mother. I'm here."
Her fluent Korean drew a big laugh from Father.
"Hahaha, now the star of the show's arrived."
"Vice Chairman Lee Dae-hyun, my daughter."
"Alice Kim."
She greeted me politely, and Father stood.
"Make it work."
"Uh, our family respects free love, though..."
"So, you hate it?"
I stared at the blonde before me, steeling my nerves.
Truly awkward spot—the adults had all bailed.
The reserved dishes started arriving one by one.
"Lee Dae-hyun."
"Mister... Lee."
"!?"
"I've heard the name a few times in England. Nickname 'Lancashire Trumpet'—the most famous Korean in England right now."
She rattled off details about me, leaving me oddly embarrassed.
"What do you do these days?"
"Still a student... at uni in Preston."
"Oh, closer than I thought."
Had to be Father's doing—he knew everything.
I'd casually mentioned to the university research foundation about acquiring a comprehensive uni with med and law schools post-IMF.
Turned out it was Kyungkuk Foundation. Then Professor Kim from the board chairman's family, married to a British woman, wanted to introduce their daughter to me...
"Ahem. To be frank, this sudden setup is a bit disorienting."
"...Yes."
"Do you follow football, living in England?"
Awkward for a blind date icebreaker, but she nodded unexpectedly.
"Haha, any favorite players?"
"David Beckham... something like that?"
"Beckham's England's top superstar, for sure. Handsome guy."
"Baggio on Blackburn's pretty handsome too. No idea how he ended up there, though."
"I made it happen."
Football unexpectedly bridged the gap.
Steak arrived; as we cut in and chatted bit by bit, Alice Kim answered effortlessly.
"She's a really nice woman. Can we meet again?"
"Phone numbers at least... but I might not pick up often."
"That's plenty. If it's not meant to be, I'll just tell the family."
She pulled her phone from her handbag—the charm was a soccer ball.
Euro 2000 official match ball design, no less.
That night wrapped with dinner and an exchange of numbers.
"Phew—"
"Alice, back already?"
"What, didn't go well? Daeyang Group heir and all... Ugh."
She loved football, and it lined up perfectly with the Daeyang heir based there, so they'd made the intro. But her face wasn't bright.
"Honey, say something."
"Daddy, I'm tired."
She slipped quietly into her room.
In truth, as a half-Brit, she was passionate about English football.
Her room brimmed with soccer merch, one wall plastered with her favorite player's poster.
David Beckham, Manchester United's number 7.
The bedding, hat, bag, mug—all sported the Manchester United logo.
"Phew—"
She changed into simple loungewear and sat on her Man United bed, letting out a quiet sigh.
Mr. Lee from Blackburn—the EPL's hottest topic as "Lancashire Trumpet."
She didn't dislike him.
Just that he was the boss of the team tormenting her beloved squad the most.
[Got home safe? M: Lee Dae-hyun]
She quietly checked the message on her phone.
And saved the number as "Lancashire Trumpet."