An Unwelcome Arrival

Jung Hyuk, Oh Jung-hoon, and Park Young-nam arrived in Paju, where the U-20 national team players were already training.

The moment they got there, they changed into the training kits issued by the association.

"Whooooaaa! I'm a national team player…!"

The uniform was nothing new to Jung Hyuk, but it clearly meant the world to Oh Jung-hoon. He pulled it on, dropped to the grass, and kissed the turf in pure rapture.

"Mmm! Even the grass the national team trains on smells amazing! Mom! Dad! Your son did it! From now on, call me Oh Jung-hoon of the national team!"

Watching him, Jung Hyuk glanced down at his own kit-clad body.

…This feels weird, somehow.

He was feeling something strange himself. In his previous life, Jung Hyuk had never played for the U-20 national team. He had eventually earned a call-up to the senior side after years of steady growth, but being selected this young was a first. His real age was thirty-eight, yet right now he was eighteen. Becoming a national team player at this age wasn't a bad feeling at all. Still, he had no intention of attaching any grand meaning to it.

I'll be getting called up here plenty of times from now on anyway.

With no weight of significance to carry, there was no tension either. Jung Hyuk's expression remained as calm as ever. That didn't mean he found the situation uninteresting, though. Having never been a U-20 player before, he had no idea what went on in this place. Not knowing what was about ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to unfold—that fact alone was deeply intriguing to him.

This should be fun.

Jung Hyuk swept his surroundings with curious eyes.

I wonder what the atmosphere is like on the U-20 squad?

He wanted to find out as soon as possible. So he dragged Oh Jung-hoon—still busy kissing the grass—off to find the manager.

"You're here."

Yoo Jung-seok, no longer merely the manager of Jeongun High but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠now the caretaker manager of the U-20 national team, greeted Jung Hyuk and Oh Jung-hoon warmly. And yet his complexion looked terrible.

The U-20 World Cup is a tournament for players aged twenty and under. More precisely, the rules allow anyone from sixteen to twenty years of age to participate. Naturally, the bulk of any roster is filled by nineteen- and twenty-year-olds rather than the younger sixteen-, seventeen-, and eighteen-year-olds. The younger a player is, the harder it becomes to break into the squad. Younger athletes tend to fall short in physicality, tactical execution, and sheer experience.

For exactly that reason, Manager Yoo Jung-seok's decision to call up Jung Hyuk and Oh Jung-hoon had already sparked discontent within the team. On top of that, most of the players selected for this U-20 side had been national team regulars since childhood—elite prospects who had climbed the ladder from the U-16s through the U-18s and finally into the U-20s. Boys who had been called geniuses their entire lives. That kind of pedigree breeds pride, and when pride swells far enough, it curdles into arrogance and conceit. They tend to regard any sudden upstart as an inconvenience—and freeze him out.

And recently appointed U-20 manager Yoo Jung-seok was exactly that kind of upstart to them. A very inconvenient one.

"Coach, your face looks a lot worse than it did a few days ago."

Jung Hyuk spoke with genuine concern after taking in Yoo Jung-seok's appearance.

"A guy who used to mess around with high school kids is trying to do a job that doesn't suit him. It's not easy. How about you, Hyuk? You holding up all right?"

"Yes, Coach. I'm doing fine. But when you say the job doesn't suit you… is it because of the players, by any chance?"

Jung Hyuk knew the politics of this world inside and out. One look at the manager's face and the mood of the squad was enough for him to piece together the situation.

The kids must be ignoring the coach pretty hard.

At Jung Hyuk's question, Manager Yoo Jung-seok offered a bitter smile.

"It's all because I'm not good enough."

That answer was all the confirmation Jung Hyuk needed.

He turned his head. His gaze settled on the training pitch where the U-20 national team players had been working—except they weren't training anymore. They had stopped completely and were staring straight at Jung Hyuk and Oh Jung-hoon. And the eyes of those U-20 players were thick with open hostility.

Feels like we've walked into a place we were never supposed to come.

Jung Hyuk let out a dry laugh. Did they really need to glare at him with that much venom?

I finally beat the Southampton clique, and now it's my own countrymen pulling this.

He sighed. The strong sense that something annoying was about to happen rolled over him in waves.

Same everywhere you go.

Jung Hyuk shook his head and walked out onto the pitch where the players were gathered. The moment he did, someone's voice cut through the air with perfect clarity.

"Those the guys? The parachutes?"

Jung Hyuk's eyes tracked the voice to its source. The speaker was staring right back at him with a brazen, challenging look.

"Haha!"

The second Jung Hyuk confirmed the man's face, he burst out laughing. He couldn't hold it in.

So you're here too, Bae Jong-soo.

Back when Jung Hyuk had been tearing up the K League, Bae Jong-soo had been a teammate on the same ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠club. More than that—he had been a direct rival for the same position.

Long time no see, Bae Jong-soo.

A rival for the same role, and a senior four years older than Jung Hyuk. But Jung Hyuk had never once treated Bae Jong-soo like a senior.

He wasn't worth the respect.

Bae Jong-soo had envied him. Resented him. Picked fights to his face and cursed him behind his back—all because Jung Hyuk had stolen his starting spot.

He had talent, I'll give him that.

The Bae Jong-soo Jung Hyuk remembered had been genuinely gifted. An elite-course product who had worn national team colors since childhood, solid fundamentals, and especially sharp passing. But he had been arrogant. He trusted his own ability so completely that he stopped putting in the work. Catching up to a man like that—once Jung Hyuk unlocked his talent through the Dream Card and trained like a man possessed—hadn't taken long at all.

Piece of trash.

Jung Hyuk had hated Bae Jong-soo. The backbiting, the jealousy, the petty spite—none of that had particularly bothered him. But the bastard had crossed a line. Crossed it by a mile.

Booze. Gambling. Drugs. Those three things were inseparable from Bae Jong-soo's name. During their K League days, the guy had shown up late to every training session reeking of alcohol. And in the end, he had been arrested for overseas gambling and drug use. That was how Bae Jong-soo's career ended.

A human piece of garbage. And now that same garbage was glaring at him with a younger face. How was he supposed to keep from laughing?

Wonder if he still smells like booze.

Jung Hyuk's laughter drew every eye on the pitch. Bae Jong-soo snarled.

"That little shit just laughed at me, didn't he? Brat whose head's still wet behind the ears… you're dead."

One corner of Jung Hyuk's mouth curled high.

Same as ever.

Players were clustering around Bae Jong-soo. That meant he was the ringleader of the pack.

Plenty of guys followed him back then, too.

Drink and nightlife were powerful temptations for athletes who had spent their whole lives staring at nothing but a soccer ball. And Bae Jong-soo was the kind of guy who spread that temptation through a squad—a loach who built his own little faction with cheap thrills. Honestly, Jung Hyuk couldn't have cared less whether Bae Jong-soo formed cliques, drank, or half-assed training. He had no interest in any of it.

But.

He's pulling the same crap on the national team.

The problem was that this was the national team—the side that represented the country. A place that carried the responsibility of delivering performances worthy of Korean soccer fans. On top of that, Jung Hyuk's single greatest goal was growth. Growth meant playing as many matches as possible. Playing as many matches as possible meant the team had to climb as high as it could. In that context, a guy like Bae Jong-soo fouling the team atmosphere was nothing but an obstacle. Manager Yoo Jung-seok must have been tearing his hair out over him. He might already have been sick of the whole mess.

Coach must have been through hell.

Jung Hyuk gave a bitter smile as he looked toward the manager. In just a few days, the man had lost a noticeable amount of weight.

That was when it started.

"Ohhh~ So you two are Jung Hyuk and Oh Jung-hoon? The eighteen-year-old geniuses who turned down Barcelona and Liverpool."

Led by Bae Jong-soo, the national team players closed in. Their expressions were ugly—the look of people staring at uninvited guests. Cold, freezing stares. There were players who greeted them warmly, too: the ones who followed the manager and intended to give everything the national team crest demanded. Oh Jung-hoon stepped out in front of everyone and bowed at a perfect ninety degrees.

"Hello, seniors! I'm Oh Jung-hoon, just called up to the U-20 national team. I'm eighteen."

It was a polite greeting—respectful, yet completely unflinching. Watching him, Jung Hyuk smiled.

Looks like a few days soaking up England did him some good.

The old Oh Jung-hoon would have tensed up in front of seniors who might as well have been gods, crushed under the weight of the national team. But the Oh Jung-hoon standing here now looked at ease—hardened by the knocks and bruises of English football. Jung Hyuk liked what he saw.

Excellent attitude.

Jung Hyuk greeted the players as well. Neck straight, he offered a measured bow while looking each of them in the face.

"Hello. I'm Jung Hyuk."

Confident, but still observing the bare minimum of courtesy. Some players returned the greeting with a flicker of goodwill. Others narrowed their eyes into cold slits. Especially—

"Hey, junior. Maybe ease up on the death stare?"

Bae Jong-soo needled him with a face full of mockery.

"Were you talking to me?"

Jung Hyuk answered with a blank face.

"Yeah. Everyone here is older than you. You should greet your seniors properly."

"I just did."

"So the rumors about you having no manners were true. Wow~ Back in my day, acting like that got you a slap across the face before anything else."

"I adjust how I act depending on the person. And luckily, times have changed quite a bit."

"…What? Heh heh! Oh-ho-ha!"

Bae Jong-soo cackled. After clutching his stomach for a long moment, he shoved his face in close with a threatening scowl.

"What did you just say to me?"

Jung Hyuk remained completely unfazed.

"I said it's a good thing times have changed. At least I won't be getting slapped."

"You sure about that? I've got a pretty bad habit with my hands."

Bae Jong-soo's face flushed deep red. The corner of his mouth that had been cocked so high was now trembling. Proof that the rage was real. And then—

Jung Hyuk bared his teeth in a grin, leaned his own face in until they were nearly nose to nose, and spoke.

"If you don't want to die, you won't try anything like that."

In that instant—

"What did you just say, you little shit?!"

Bae Jong-soo lunged. The players around him scrambled to hold him back.

"Let go! I said let go of me!"

Bae Jong-soo was seething. Jung Hyuk crooked a finger at him.

"Come on, then."

Jung Hyuk had no intention of backing down either. He planned to grow as much as humanly possible during his time with the national team. That meant catching every loach thrashing around in the water. And the sooner he caught them, the better.

"Hyuk, what are you doing? Just let it go! You're seriously trying to fight the second we get here?"

Oh Jung-hoon tried to pull Jung Hyuk back from baiting Bae Jong-soo. That was when Manager Yoo Jung-seok, who had been watching the entire scene unfold, roared.

"Enough! What the hell do you all think you're doing right now?!"

Yoo Jung-seok's face was flushed nearly to bursting. He turned on the coaches and players gathered nearby and shouted again.

"The coaches just stand there watching players fight, and the players start brawling right in front of their manager like it's nothing. Is this a team? Huh? Is this how people who answered their country's call are supposed to act?!"

The furious ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠manager wasn't finished. He gathered the coaches and players and drove the point home hard.

"I don't care about name value. Let me make this crystal clear—I will look at ability and ability alone. So drop the childish pissing contests and speak like professionals: with your performance."

Once the manager finished speaking, the players began their stretching and warm-ups, preparing for the intra-squad practice match about to begin. Even while loosening up, the targeting of Jung Hyuk never stopped. Bae Jong-soo and his pack kept laughing at him, dismissing him, needling him at every turn. Rootless nobody. Lucky bastard who got offers from European scouts by chance. Parachute. Little punk who doesn't know his place. Every disgusting insult imaginable floated into Jung Hyuk's ears. He ignored every last provocation and focused solely on warming up.

A short while later, it was time for the practice match. The players gathered on the pitch. Jung Hyuk stepped onto the grass as well. And the moment he did, a message bloomed before his eyes.

Ding!

Oh!

Jung Hyuk's eyes widened.

So just becoming a U-20 national team player is enough to trigger a reward.

The foul mood Bae Jong-soo had left behind melted away. Rewards always made Jung Hyuk happy—and a reward that raised every single stat? His face brightened at the sweetness of it.

But then another message appeared.

Ding!

The moment he read the newly generated message, the smile vanished from Jung Hyuk's face. He let out a long, heavy sigh, his expression darkening.

Aigoo. Now I've got no choice.

Bae Jong-soo's provocation had already forced one confrontation, but Jung Hyuk had genuinely preferred to get along with his national team teammates rather than lock horns with them. He meant that. And yet—a special reward condition…

This… really left him no choice, did it?

Ah… I really didn't want to do this.

A deep smile spread across Jung Hyuk's lips. He turned a predator's gaze on the U-20 national team players.

Sorry, kids. I'm about to go pretty hard on you.

It was time to strip those high-and-mighty elite players down to their souls.