A Goal from the Halfway Line

In his prime, Jung Hyuk had always been a strong shooter. Even among the monsters of the Premier League, his finishing ranked near the top. Naturally, he was a player who had long since mastered the art of striking the ball cleanly through the sweet spot.

But the Jung Hyuk of now had no such confidence. Even with a shot he had practiced tens of thousands of times, the doubt remained.

I still can't get used to this body.

He had done everything he could to adapt, but he still wasn't comfortable in a high schooler's frame. Tension tightened across his face as he prepared to shoot. Watching him, the coach and manager scowled and started shouting.

"Coach Lee, what the hell is that kid doing? Tell him to quit screwing around and get out of there!"

"Hey! What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?"

Taking a shot from long range while the goalkeeper had wandered far off his line was the kind of attempt that occasionally showed up in overseas matches. Abroad, players tried the plays they wanted without looking over their shoulders, and coaches valued that individuality — so bold long-range efforts were common enough.

But this was Korean high school soccer in 2013, a world that ran on team play far more than individual skill or fundamentals. Attempt a piece of skillwork and the coach would scream that you were being cocky. Try a dribble and fail, and you got chewed out just the same. What mattered most in Korean high school soccer at the time was stamina and passing.

So of course, what Jung Hyuk was doing looked completely insane to the manager and coach. On top of that, his current position was right near the halfway line — meaning the opposing goal was absurdly far away.

"What is wrong with that kid?! Is he seriously trying to hit that on the volley?"

The manager clutched the back of his neck and glared daggers at Jung Hyuk.

And right then, Jung Hyuk looked at the message floating in front of his eyes.

A deep smile curved across his lips. He had gotten lucky. The reason S-class talent stood above A-class wasn't growth speed alone. It was the special effect that triggered at low probability — and that was exactly why S-class sat at the top.

Luck is on my side.

Jung Hyuk swung his leg hard at the incoming ball. The instant the ball met the top of his foot, he knew.

I caught it clean…!

It had connected far better than he'd expected. Good enough, maybe, that he wouldn't get subbed off after all. And he wasn't wrong.

BOOM!

The ball left Jung Hyuk's foot in a soaring arc toward the goal. The velocity was blistering. A cleanly struck ball always carried more power than the effort put into it. The opposing keeper's eyes went wide as he scrambled back toward his net — a desperate, frantic sprint. But a man cannot outrun a ball. Halfway there, the keeper dropped his head in defeat.

SWISH!

A ball struck from the halfway line finding the back of the net is not a sight you see every day. The distance is simply too great, and goalkeepers aren't fools. Naturally, when something like that unfolded right in front of you, shock was the only possible reaction. That was exactly how the Jeongwoon High soccer players felt.

"Whoa! What was that?!"

"That actually went in?"

"No way! Isn't that Jung Hyuk? Since when did he have that kind of sense?"

It wasn't just the students who were stunned. The manager and coach who had watched the goal stared at each other with wide eyes.

"D-did you see that?"

"Yes, sir. It actually went in."

"No, you idiot! Did you actually watch Jung Hyuk's form when he hit that shot?!"

"Uh… which part do you mean, sir?"

"Ha! Coach Lee, you are seriously getting on my nerves! With eyes that bad, how do you expect to keep working as a coach?"

"…I'm sorry. Could you tell me what you saw?"

"Sorry doesn't fix it!"

"I'm truly sorry!"

"Ugh, you're hopeless! Did you not see Jung Hyuk's shooting form just now?"

"His form?"

"Yes. It was perfect. Planted left foot locked into the ground, body lowered, striking clean through with the instep of his right foot! Hitting a textbook shot like that in a rush situation is never easy. You know that too, Coach Lee. Could you pull that off the same way if I asked you to?"

"I think I probably could…"

"Don't lie to me!"

Coach Lee Jun-seok's lower lip jutted out in a sulk, but he didn't talk back. In the Jeongwoon High soccer club, the manager was king. As a coach, there was nothing more he could say. Instead, Lee Jun-seok glared at Jung Hyuk with a look of pure resentment.

Why the hell is that guy suddenly pulling stunts he never does and making me look bad? A talentless punk gets one lucky break and…

The Jung Hyuk that Coach Lee knew was not a player who could hit a shot like that. It had to be a fluke. The manager might have canceled the substitution order, but the kid would look pathetic for the rest of the match.

Except Jung Hyuk's movement started to sparkle in a way that completely defied that expectation.

Alright. Body's loosening up a bit.

Physical gifts might be lacking, but class was forever. Jung Hyuk's skill and experience weren't going anywhere. The moment he accepted that his body was weak, he stopped contesting physical battles entirely. He avoided hold-up play that required him to shield the ball with his frame and instead linked movement through his teammates. One-twos, body feints to change direction the instant a defender closed in — he slipped free of pressure again and again.

THUMP!

Once clear, Jung Hyuk sprayed a forward pass with his wide field of vision. His teammate up front, Lee Jin-hyung, wore a doubtful look — but his body still charged ahead on pure instinct. Jung Hyuk's pass, now finding its rhythm, rolled perfectly into the space ahead of Lee Jin-hyung's run. It couldn't compare to his pre-regression standard, but at the high school level it was sharp enough.

"Stop him!"

"You lost Lee Jin-hyung!"

"Don't let him shoot!"

The defenders shouted over each other.

Tap.

Lee Jin-hyung collected the ball and looked up at goal. His first touch was rough, but there was no one near him. For a striker in that moment, there was only one thing to do.

Whoosh!

He drove a shot toward the net.

SWISH—

Lee Jin-hyung's strike rippled the back of the net. A clean finish.

"WOOOOO!"

"That was insane! Did that not just look like an EPL match?"

"Jin-hyung's finish was filthy, and Jung Hyuk's pass was perfect too!"

"Wait, since when could Jung Hyuk play a ball like that?"

"Gotta be a fluke."

After that, Jung Hyuk recorded one more assist and led the team to victory. When the match ended, the manager walked over to him.

"Jung Hyuk. Good play today."

"Thank you, sir."

"Keep doing it like that."

"Yes, sir."

The words were blunt, but Jung Hyuk understood. Coming from the manager, that was enormous praise.

"Hyuk! Did you take something before the match? Your movement was completely different from usual!"

"I honestly thought you were Iniesta out there."

"Jung Hyuk, you were really good today."

"Hyung, that was so cool!"

Seniors, classmates, and underclassmen crowded around to congratulate him. Jung Hyuk smiled awkwardly. He was embarrassed. He hadn't shown anything close to his real ability. It wasn't humility, either — today's match had been won on pure luck. One wrong step and he would have been subbed off twenty minutes into his first game after regressing.

Not a bad first day.

It had been rough at the start, but overall, the first day of his regression hadn't gone poorly.

Hm?

Then Jung Hyuk's eyes lit up.

Jung-hoon's here too!

The boy grinning brightly right in front of him — someone who had been very close to him before the regression. Oh Jung-hoon was a genius. A monstrous physique that made his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠eighteen years hard to believe, fundamentals polished solid since childhood, and outstanding soccer IQ on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠top of it all. Naturally, Oh Jung-hoon was currently serving as Jeongwoon High's ace.

If he develops the way he should, he could easily start for a top-half Premier League side at minimum.

As a former top-tier player in one of the world's greatest leagues, Jung Hyuk had an eye for talent. Play alongside someone and you could feel what they were made of. The talent he saw in Oh Jung-hoon held up even against the world's elite. In some areas, it even surpassed them.

And that kid was going to get injured…

At 193 centimeters and 88 kilograms, with freakish athleticism layered on top of that powerful frame, Oh Jung-hoon had always felt like an unbreakable robot. But that was only the surface. Relentless overuse by the manager and the brutal fouls of opposing high school players tore his body down at terrifying speed. Eventually, at nineteen — right on the verge of turning pro — Oh Jung-hoon suffered a catastrophic ACL tear. He clawed his way back through sheer effort and even managed a late entry into a professional club… only to get injured again and hang up his boots for good.

A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠memory I never wanted to revisit.

Jung Hyuk could never forget the tears Oh Jung-hoon shed on the day he retired.

I'll help him.

He had no intention of revealing the regression or handing over every technique he possessed. He simply wanted to help the kid chase his dream this time around. At the very least, he would make sure Oh Jung-hoon never got hurt.

The moment Jung Hyuk got home, he skipped the shower and went straight for a ball.

S-class talent really is on another level.

Having regressed with S-class talent, his body now possessed explosive growth potential. Learn a new technique and it locked in almost instantly. Hit the weights and muscle packed on at a frightening pace. Knowing that, Jung Hyuk wanted to train even a little more.

"Fundamentals first."

The most important thing was getting comfortable in this body. Just adapting to his current frame would make his visible ability leap forward overnight. Standing in place, Jung Hyuk lofted the ball and began a juggling drill, keeping it off the ground. Ball control training was critical, and the expression on his face as he worked was deadly serious.

In the past, before he gained any special ability, Jung Hyuk had possessed no soccer talent at all. The only gift he had was the capacity to work harder than anyone else. And now, an S-class talent holder had started pouring that same monstrous effort on top.

One week later, after finishing training, Jung Hyuk looked at the messages floating before his eyes and smiled.

Messages he had been seeing regularly over the past week.

"Growing at a terrifying rate."

Having talent meant standing in a far more advantageous position than everyone else. And if that talent was S-class? The growth rate existed on an entirely different plane. That was Jung Hyuk right now. In his past life, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he had never raised his attributes this quickly. Even after obtaining S-class talent back then, the growth had never been this fast. Of course it hadn't. By that point his stats were already high — and the higher the attributes climbed, the more noticeably growth slowed.

"At this pace, I might reclaim my prime-level ability faster than I expected."

Naturally, with his current low stats, he was rocketing upward. But Jung Hyuk had no intention of settling for this speed.

"This is only the beginning."

He already knew a method that would let him grow even faster. And right now, he intended to use it.