A World-Class Mind in a High School Body

A soccer player needs many different abilities. The requirements shift slightly from position to position, but certain attributes—physical strength, stamina, agility—remain critical across the board.

That was why Jung Hyuk had never stopped working to raise his stats throughout his entire career as a player. In that sense, the points that could boost those stats were invaluable. Of course, the more valuable something was, the harder it was to obtain. Only spectacular performances or outstanding records earned him points.

Naturally, Jung Hyuk's expression was bright—he had already earned points right from the start. And now, he intended to spend every last one of them.

"I'll use the points to raise my stats."

The moment the words left his mouth, a system message appeared.

There was no hesitation. Jung Hyuk was a veteran with well over twenty years of soccer experience—a player once rated World Class, a finalist among the top three for the FIFA Ballon d'Or. He knew exactly which stat he needed most right now.

"Whether I'm training or playing matches, I need stamina first."

He poured every point he had into stamina. These were points that would only grow harder to earn from here on out, yet Jung Hyuk felt not a shred of regret. He believed the stamina he was investing now would become a massive foundation for his growth.

Jung Hyuk ranked stamina as the single most important ability a soccer player could have.

No matter how brilliant your technique is, once your stamina drops, you become just another ordinary player.

Maintaining the same level of performance through both halves of a match—that was only possible with ironclad stamina. Of course, that wasn't the only reason he had dumped every point into it.

When I think about all the insane things I'm going to put myself through, I need every scrap of stamina I can get.

Before the regression, Jung Hyuk had been a player of monstrous work ethic. Once a season ended, he trained without fail—except for the bare minimum of mandatory schedules and rest. The intensity of that training had been extreme. There was a reason he pushed himself hard enough to make others click their tongues in disbelief.

And now, after the regression, that reason revealed itself right before his eyes as he cranked out push-ups on the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bare floor.

"Nothing's changed."

A smile tugged at the corner of Jung Hyuk's mouth as he wiped away the sweat. The Card of Dream System was a lot like a game. Hard training raised your stats. The higher the stats climbed, the harder they became to raise further—but they still rose. That was how Jung Hyuk had always been able to train more than anyone else. Watching his stats climb right before his eyes only fueled him further.

But still—

"I have to go through those hellish training sessions all over again."

Just imagining the grueling workouts from his past life was enough to draw a sigh. Even so, the smile never left his lips. Things were different now. He possessed overwhelming talent. Naturally, he would grow faster in every area.

"Am I finally going to hear people call me a genius?"

As Jung Hyuk was grinning to himself, his pocket buzzed.

Bzzzt. Bzzzt.

It was his smartphone vibrating.

"Geon-ho...?"

The name on the screen—Lee Geon-ho—was a familiar one. He was one of the friends Jung Hyuk had played soccer with since high school. Geon-ho would fail to turn pro, but in the future he would do very well for himself in the restaurant business.

The moment Jung Hyuk answered, a frantic voice poured through the speaker.

"Hey! Where the hell are you?"

"I'm out in front of school. Why?"

"What do you mean, why?! The manager and the seniors are all pissed as hell right now! Aigoo, if you were gonna be late, you could've at least said something!"

"...I'm late?"

It didn't take long to grasp the situation. Before Geon-ho could even finish explaining, Jung Hyuk was already sprinting at full speed.

"Hurry up and get over here!"

"Okay!"

The athletic field at Jeongun High School. Every weekend, the Jeongun High soccer team held training sessions here. To make the eight o'clock morning start, you had to get up early and prepare carefully. And the time Jung Hyuk had picked up that card was well past eight. After checking his status window and even finishing a set of push-ups, a phone call was only natural.

The atmosphere of a high school soccer team in this era was strict. The hierarchy between seniors and juniors was absolute, and the relationship with the manager and coaches was even more rigid. And now—tardiness. Not even a third-year, but a second-year, late without a word. The mood among the Jeongun High soccer team was foul. No—it was downright vicious.

And into that vicious atmosphere, Jung Hyuk came running.

"I'm sorry!"

He bowed at a full ninety degrees, packing every ounce of apology he could into his face and voice.

When you've done something wrong, a full-effort apology works far better than any excuse. The thirty-eight-year-old Jung Hyuk knew that perfectly well. So he offered no excuses at all—just repeated that he was sorry for being late. In the end, the manager and coach, who had been ready to tear into him, simply sighed and waved him off.

"Go warm up, quick. You'll be playing soon."

Playing?

Jung Hyuk's eyes went round as he looked at the coach who had spoken. Right now, he was a permanent benchwarmer. Compared to his friends, he had neither the talent nor the skill—making the starting lineup had been nothing more than a dream. Even in practice matches, he usually came on as a substitute. And now they were saying he would play? It didn't make sense.

As if reading his mind, the coach added one more line.

"Jin-ho's ankle is bothering him today. You'll be filling his spot."

So that's how it is.

Jung Hyuk nodded. Now the situation made sense. He was a player of pathetic skill—someone who could be cut from the soccer team at any moment without anyone batting an eye. He only got chances when someone else was out of form or injured. And this was one of those moments.

Defensive midfielder, huh.

In high school, his position had been fullback. Lacking any outstanding talent, he had needed a position with scarcity value to stay competitive. So Jung Hyuk had played right-back. Later, after obtaining the Card of Dream, he would take on winger and striker roles and play more attacking positions—but not yet. For now, he was just a backup at fullback or defensive midfielder, only stepping in when a teammate couldn't play.

Still, this is good news.

The corner of Jung Hyuk's mouth lifted. He wasn't a specialist defensive midfielder, but he had plenty of experience. Even during his Premier League days, he had occasionally been deployed in that role. And the match about to unfold was between high school soccer teams. To someone who had played in one of the world's best leagues, it looked like child's play.

This big brother's about to show you what real soccer looks like.

With a face full of confidence, Jung Hyuk walked out to his position.

Tweeeet!

The whistle blew, and the practice match began.

You should've processed that a little faster there!

Jung Hyuk ran across the field, observing the high schoolers' movements. There was a lot of waste in the way ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they moved. Most of them hadn't even properly mastered the fundamentals.

That feint is way too obvious. You'll never make it to the pros playing like that...

Then it happened. A teammate sent a pass toward Jung Hyuk, who was playing defensive midfield. In that instant, his eyes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lit up. The moment the ball came toward him, he finished every calculation in his head.

Pressure's coming right away, so I turn my body as I take the touch. If the first touch is clean, high school level won't be able to react.

It would work. With a good first touch, he could beat the opposing player easily.

If it worked against EPL defenders, there's no way it fails here.

That was when a loud voice rang out from behind him.

"Jung Hyuk! Pressure's coming—one-touch it, now!"

A teammate telling him to play ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a one-touch pass. The commanding tone made it clear this was a senior, one year above him. Jung Hyuk ignored him.

One-touch, my ass. If I beat one guy here, the rest of you have it easy.

Jung Hyuk—a former World Class player—was not about to take orders from a high school third-year. He trusted his own judgment.

Whoosh!

The ball rolled in fast. Jung Hyuk stretched out his foot. In that same instant, the opposing player who had been charging in latched onto his back. Jung Hyuk smiled and dropped his stance, his expression overflowing with composure. All he had to do was bleed off the opponent's force and rotate his body. With a soft-tofu-smooth first touch, the ball would naturally follow him. It was a movement he had practiced tens of thousands of times.

And then—

Stagger!

"Ugh—?"

Jung Hyuk—World Class, Ballon d'Or third place—went down. Even with his stance lowered, he couldn't withstand the high schooler's charge. Sprawled on the ground, he made no effort to hide his shock.

Damn it! What's wrong with this body?

He should have held. He had withstood pressure from the world's best defenders. Collapsing this pathetically under a charge from a high schooler who wasn't even a pro made no sense. But he had fallen. And uglily, rolling across the dirt. He hadn't even properly touched the ball.

And in that moment, Jung Hyuk understood.

Aigoo! The regression.

His body right now was not the body of a World Class player. It was just a high schooler with weak, garbage-tier stats.

"Hey! Jung Hyuk! What the hell are you doing, you bastard?! I told you to send it one-touch!"

I can hear you just fine if you talk quieter, you bastard.

Jung Hyuk scowled. He was already embarrassed enough without the third-year standing nearby screaming at the top of his lungs, making his ears ring.

What a goddamn disgrace.

There was no more room for composure. Tension settled over Jung Hyuk's face. Now that he was back in a high schooler's body—not the World Class body of his prime—he knew he couldn't play the way he used to. He would have to move differently.

Keep it as stable as possible. Minimize the dribbling.

One mistake was enough. Jung Hyuk worked to adapt to his current body. But there were limits. Soccer was a sport where physical ability mattered enormously, and right now Jung Hyuk possessed the worst physical ability imaginable. That fact made playing against high schoolers genuinely difficult. On top of that, there was no way the chemistry between a former Premier League player and a bunch of high school soccer kids was going to click. Twenty years was far too long for him to remember how they used to link up.

As the substitute Jung Hyuk failed to adapt to the team, the coach tore into him.

"Jung Hyuk! Are you even trying?! Ugh! What's with your pass timing? You playing soccer by yourself? Huh? What's wrong with you today? Did you stay up all night watching European soccer highlights? Pass at a tempo your teammates can actually receive!"

I played seven years in the Premier League, you idiot.

To Jung Hyuk, who had played in the Premier League from age thirty-two to thirty-eight, it was an absurd thing to hear.

Ever consider that the kids who can't keep up with this level of pass timing are the problem? No wonder the kids aren't improving with a coach and manager like this.

And Jung Hyuk had been that Premier League team's ace—recognized as World Class. He couldn't help but feel frustrated by the situation unfolding in front of him. At the same time, he was frustrated with the state of his own body.

I knew it would be bad, but this bad? I can't play the way I want like this.

The longer it went on, the more the frustration piled up. And he was just a substitute who had come on as cover. No one here expected anything from Jung Hyuk.

The manager, watching him with a look of pure pity, called the coach over.

"Pull him out."

"Yes, sir. Hey! Jung Hyuk!"

The coach called his name.

Damn it! I'm getting subbed off after less than twenty minutes in a high school match?

There was no way to avoid the substitution. Well—there was one way. Put on a performance so outstanding that the manager would rescind the order. That was the only option. But with this garbage body, it wouldn't be easy. And time was running out.

Then—

A ball cleared by the opposing defense came flying toward Jung Hyuk.

Huh?

The regression had given him a body with low stats, but his eyes were the same. Jung Hyuk was a player who, in his prime, had often threaded dazzling passes with his wide field of vision.

The keeper's come way too far out.

In his sight, the opposing goalkeeper had left his goal far more open than he should have.

Alright. Let's try it!

In that moment, Jung Hyuk made his decision. He was getting subbed off anyway—might as well gamble. Hit a direct shot at the incoming ball, right here, right now.

Jung Hyuk set his feet and locked his eyes on the ball. Of course, he had no certainty. Striking a flying ball cleanly was an extremely difficult skill even among professionals. On top of that, his current shooting stat was 61. With numbers like that, no matter how hard he concentrated, the odds of connecting cleanly were low.

But he had no intention of giving up. You couldn't succeed without trying first.

Jung Hyuk stared at the incoming ball with desperate eyes.

Please...!

That was when a system message appeared before him.