Ten Points

Southampton FC had clawed their way into the top flight for the 2012–13 season after a long, winding road.

Winding was putting it mildly.

Under manager Nigel Adkins, Southampton had climbed from the third division all the way to the Premier League. It was the kind of achievement that belonged in a movie — and they had done it in just two seasons.

The players' performances and the coaching staff's efforts had played their part, but Adkins himself deserved the lion's share of the credit.

And then Southampton sacked him.

The club dismissed the very man who had dragged them into the first division. It happened without warning. In his place, they brought in Mauricio Pochettino.

Players and fans alike were stunned.

"How do you fire Nigel Adkins? I heard he found out he was sacked by watching TV."

"That's not a rumor. Adkins said so himself in an interview."

"Are you kidding me? You throw out the guy who took you from League One to the Premier League like that? Even if results were rough in the top flight, you don't do him like that. And they'd been recovering lately!"

"And the replacement is Pochettino? Why him? The guy's ridiculously young."

"I know. Makes no sense. None at all."

For Pochettino, suddenly handed the reins, the road ahead was steep. The squad still resented the club for sacking Adkins, and they made sure he felt it — ignoring instructions, half-assing training sessions. Outside the club, the pressure was just as relentless: rumors, sensational headlines, constant scrutiny.

But Pochettino possessed a mental toughness far beyond his years. He weathered every storm. He never lost the battle of wills with his players; if anything, his natural charisma let him seize control of the dressing room with startling speed.

Having locked down the squad, he finished the 2012–13 Premier League season in fifteenth place, then set about reshaping the team in his own image.

One piece of that work was bringing in the players he wanted.

"Yes!"

Mauricio Pochettino clenched his fist. His eyes lit up as he studied the papers in his hand. Several names were listed there.

Among them: Jung Hyuk and Oh Jung-hoon.

Jung Hyuk arrived in England and unpacked at the lodging the club had arranged. The place sat about a five-minute drive from Southampton FC's training ground.

Once the club learned that his agent would be living with them as a guardian, they had provided something a little farther out — but larger and nicer. Five minutes by car meant they could easily walk it if Park Young-nam wasn't around. The club had even thrown in a car.

"Whoa! This is our place? It's way better than I expected!"

Oh Jung-hoon prowled the interior, buzzing with excitement. Jung Hyuk was a little surprised himself.

They're treating us pretty well.

Even if he and Oh Jung-hoon had become famous back in Korea and drawn interest from half ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of Europe, they were still unproven teenagers on this side of the world. And yet the club was putting them up like this.

Pochettino and the club must really rate us.

A strong first step in Europe. Better treatment meant better chances of actual playing time.

And right then, a message floated into Jung Hyuk's vision that made the start feel even sweeter.

The card reward for entering the EPL. He had received one in his previous life, so he had been expecting it.

I got something pretty good last time.

Of course, the circumstances were completely different now. He had entered the Premier League at thirty-two before; this time he was barely eighteen. The club was different too. Everything — the environment, the timeline — was already diverging from the past. He had no idea what the card would give him.

Might as well open it now.

So much had changed since the regression that the result was a mystery — but he still remembered the solid reward from before. Face tight with anticipation, Jung Hyuk reached for the card.

Whoosh!

The card flipped, and the information appeared.

Points… same as before, at least this far.

He had never expected a Trait. Points alone were an excellent reward. The only question was how many he would get.

Last time I got three, I think?

Three ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠points was what he remembered from before the regression. Even three would leave him more than satisfied now.

Time to check the result.

"Confirming points."

The moment the words left his mouth, a message bloomed in the air.

"…What?"

Jung Hyuk stared, stunned. He couldn't help it. The result was far better than anything he had imagined — so far beyond his expectations it barely made sense.

"Haha!"

He finally burst out laughing. Oh Jung-hoon, out in the living room, shot him a look like he was watching a lunatic, but Jung Hyuk didn't care. He kept laughing as he read the message floating in front of him.

"Team meeting's tomorrow, so rest up today. I'm heading to the supermarket."

Park Young-nam wasn't quite as close to them as he had been in the previous life, but the rapport was already solid. He took the club car and drove off to stock up. In charge of his players' diets, he was already throwing himself into the job.

"Hyuk."

Left alone in the room, Oh Jung-hoon called out. Jung Hyuk, stretched out on the bed, turned his head.

"Yeah?"

"Season's still a ways off, right?"

"Yeah. About two months."

"So what should we be preparing?"

"Preparing? Just train hard and keep doing what we've always done."

"How are you this calm?"

Oh Jung-hoon stared at him like he had lost his mind.

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"We're in England. We're in the EPL. And you're acting like you're still in your bedroom at home. You're not nervous at all?"

"What's there to be nervous about? We came here to play soccer. Just focus on soccer stuff. We haven't even had our first training session yet — worry after that. Besides, we're still jet-lagged. Until we adjust, we should just rest."

"…So get our condition right first?"

"Exactly."

Oh Jung-hoon let out a long breath. The tension drained from his face.

"Ah, screw it. I don't know either! Let's just rest."

"Good plan."

Jung Hyuk smiled and buried his face in the soft pillow. Right now, rest was the job.

The next day, after the meeting, Jung Hyuk, Oh Jung-hoon, and Park Young-nam headed to Southampton FC's training ground. Players were already out working. Smiles filled their faces — the session had a genuinely fun atmosphere. But there was nothing sloppy about it. They laughed while they trained, yet every movement was sharp, committed, almost desperate.

Watching that particular energy, Oh Jung-hoon tensed up completely.

"Whoa… yeah, an EPL club really is different…"

Jung Hyuk watched with a surprised expression of his own — for a completely different reason.

Pochettino's already got full control of the squad.

He was impressed by the manager's grip on the team. You could see it in their attitude and the way they moved through the tactical drills. The players were enjoying themselves while adapting to the system with perfect ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠coordination. No complaints. No resistance. Clear proof they were following the manager's instructions properly.

There was another tell as well.

This many players already back and training?

Most Premier League clubs were still on holiday, or their players were away on international duty. And yet the training ground was full. That alone said plenty about the squad's hunger and their faith in the manager.

Manager and players both — seriously impressive.

Even for a veteran like Jung Hyuk, it was remarkable.

Coming here was the right call.

Satisfied with his own decision, he watched a little longer before calling out to Oh Jung-hoon.

"Jung-hoon."

"Yeah?"

"Let's get ready."

Today was their first training session, and Jung Hyuk had been waiting for it.

Then the Southampton coaching staff started gathering the players.

"Oh… what's going on? What are they doing?"

Oh Jung-hoon watched, still wound tight.

"Probably a welcome."

Jung Hyuk looked at the players and coaches coming toward them — the teammates he would be sharing a pitch with from now on. And in that moment, a thought crossed his mind.

Please don't make the initiation too brutal.

He hoped the guys he would be playing alongside would keep the hazing light. He hoped he wouldn't have to show them his ugly side.

Then a voice rang out from a little farther off.

"Everyone here?"

A man in a full tracksuit strode over with a bright smile.

In the life before the regression, the Park Young-nam Jung Hyuk knew had been an outstanding agent. Day to day he acted like a neighborhood big brother, but at the negotiating table he turned into a fox — and when the moment called for it, he bulldozed straight through and flipped the entire atmosphere of the room. He always delivered results beyond anything Jung Hyuk expected.

And he had done it again with Southampton FC, securing excellent terms.

One clause in particular had made Jung Hyuk very happy.

I honestly didn't think he'd land first-team registration.

Eighteen by Korean age, sixteen by English reckoning. Slotting a foreign player that young straight into a Premier League first team the moment he signed — that was no small feat. Extremely difficult. The club clearly recognized their ability, but that didn't diminish Park Young-nam's skill one bit.

What a monster of an agent.

The fruit of that effort was standing right in front of Jung Hyuk now: Southampton's players and coaches. Even the manager himself had come over and extended a hand.

Manager Pochettino.

Jung Hyuk smiled. Having played under him in the previous life, the face was a welcome one. He took the offered hand. Oh Jung-hoon shook it next, and the greetings went around warmly.

"Everyone, say hello. These are Jung Hyuk and Oh Jung-hoon — they'll be playing for Southampton from now on. Young, but very talented."

Pochettino introduced them to the coaches and players. Jung Hyuk looked over the group.

Strange feeling.

Having played in the Premier League before, he knew a lot of players and coaches — even ones from other clubs. He had never been at Southampton, but most of the faces in front of him were familiar. Seeing them so young was just… odd. Pochettino himself looked far younger than the version Jung Hyuk remembered.

Good to meet all of you.

Pleased, Jung Hyuk smiled and shook every hand.

Not everyone returned the welcome. Some players clearly weren't interested. One squeezed a little too hard during the handshake. Another barely bothered. A few sent him looks of open contempt and barely veiled sneers.

That kind of hazing existed at every European club he had ever joined. Even players he had been close to in the past life were dismissing him now.

The smile on Jung Hyuk's face only deepened.

Yeah. This ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is more fun.

He had expected it to some degree. He had just hoped it wouldn't happen.

Go on, then. Try me.

The hazing intensified once training started. Jung Hyuk got off relatively lightly. Oh Jung-hoon, who couldn't speak English, took it far more openly. During the practice match, it got worse. Passes simply never came. They treated him like a spare part, pure and simple.

Playing central midfield, Jung Hyuk at least touched the ball a few times. Up front as the striker, Oh Jung-hoon never got near it.

That's going to wreck his head.

Jung Hyuk watched him with a bitter little smile. By his standards, this level of hazing was ordinary — nothing special for any club. But for Oh Jung-hoon, experiencing it for the first time, it had to be disorienting. Frustrating. Infuriating.

I'm a little worried.

Jung Hyuk knew his friend's personality. Oh Jung-hoon was the type people called easygoing — big as a house, but almost never one to pick a fight. A genuinely good kid. That temperament might make him suffer even more.

And then—

"You fucking bastards!"

Oh Jung-hoon snapped.