The Finger on the Lips

The Premier League is one of the greatest leagues in the world.

Naturally, the opening match that marks the start of a new season draws the attention of soccer fans across the globe.

And this time, for the 2013/14 season, Korean fans were especially fired up.

Would Jung Hyuk — the monster who had led Korea to the U-20 World Cup title and claimed both the Golden Ball and Golden Boot as the world's premier prospect — start the match?

That single question sent Korean fans' interest surging.

Of course, it was rare for a prospect with so little training time at the club to debut in an opening fixture. Seasoned starters held the starting eleven, and the standard of those players in the EPL was extraordinarily high.

Even so, expectations for Jung Hyuk ran high. The impact he had delivered at the U-20 World Cup had been that overwhelming.

And then, at last, the articles confirming his appearance hit the feeds.

When the articles confirming Jung Hyuk's place in the starting lineup dropped, Korean fans erupted. An eighteen-year-old Korean prospect starting an opening match — they cheered themselves hoarse.

Southampton FC fans, on the other hand, split into two camps.

One side argued that starting an eighteen-year-old in the opener was a reckless gamble by Manager Pochettino. The other insisted that if the manager was putting him in the starting eleven, there had to be a reason.

The two opinions clashed hard among the Southampton faithful.

And now, at this very moment, the players of Southampton FC and West Bromwich walked out onto the pitch.

Today's match was being played at West Bromwich's home ground, The Hawthorns — a stadium that could hold more than twenty-six thousand. True to an opening fixture, a massive crowd had packed into The Hawthorns.

A short while later, the whistle that announced the start of the new season rang out.

Pheeeeee!

At the same time—

Wooooaaaaah~!

A tremendous roar from the crowd thundered through the stadium.

And under the eyes of that vast audience, Jung Hyuk — about to play his debut match — charged toward the opposition.

Taat!

Josh had been a Southampton FC fan for twenty years. He was the kind of diehard who made it to the stadium in person whenever he could. Today, with a new season beginning, he had come to watch the match live.

"Damn it!"

Josh scowled as he watched the players enter the pitch.

"What the hell is Pochettino thinking?"

He hated the starting lineup. More precisely, he hated that an unproven young Asian kid was being thrown into the starting eleven.

"If you're going to start that little Asian kid, you might as well put James Ward-Prowse out there instead! And in an opening match this important!"

That was when his girlfriend, Sophia, who had come with him, frowned.

"Josh! Don't dismiss him just because he's Asian. That's racist."

"Huh? Oh — if it came off that way, I'm sorry. That wasn't what I meant. But it's true that Asians aren't good at soccer, right?"

Sophia let out a long sigh.

"Do you even know that the Korean starting today won both the Golden Ball and the Golden Boot at the U-20 World Cup?"

"····Really? But is winning some awards in a kids' tournament supposed to be impressive? I don't think it's a big deal. And I just can't trust that Korean. That kid clearly only came to Southampton to sell jerseys."

"Josh! Watch your mouth! I've watched that Korean's footage, and he was clearly an incredible player."

"····Yeah? If you're saying that, Sophia, I can almost believe it, but····still·····."

Josh refused to budge. Sophia shot him a look of pure irritation, but he deliberately ignored it.

And he was far from alone. Plenty of people — a great many people — were unhappy about the young Korean starting.

"Has Pochettino lost his mind? Why is that Asian out there?!"

"Is the opening match a joke to you? Why bench a guy who performed last season for some unproven kid?!"

"Booooooo— just try playing badly! I'll throw this beer can at you!"

"Hey, Asian! Go sell your T-shirts and get lost!"

Booooooo!

The boos rolled through the stadium in a massive wave. Southampton FC's own fans were booing their own team — a rare and ugly sight.

And under that crushing wall of jeers, the match began.

A faint smile touched Jung Hyuk's lips.

It was because of the boos that hit him the moment he stepped onto the pitch.

The problem was that they weren't only coming from the West Bromwich fans. Even supporters of his own club, Southampton FC, were joining in.

Of course, not all of it was aimed solely at him. Some of it was surely directed at Manager Pochettino for choosing him. But in the end, Jung Hyuk was the cause.

"Been a while. Feels strange."

Racist slurs, insults, dismissive remarks — they all washed over him. The smile on Jung Hyuk's face only deepened.

"And it's pissing me off a little, too."

When Pochettino had told him he would start the opening match, Jung Hyuk had expected some pushback from the Southampton fans. To a degree, he had prepared for it.

But this went beyond anything he had anticipated.

This was completely over the line.

So Jung Hyuk changed his plan.

From putting in a solid performance and making a successful debut — to delivering a performance so overwhelming that no one would dare boo him again.

As he settled into his position, a status window appeared before his eyes.

His stats had grown another level.

It was the result of training himself half to death after finishing the U-20 World Cup schedule and returning to England. On top of that, his height — which had barely budged for so long — had finally climbed a full centimeter. For a soccer player, assuming physical balance was maintained, extra height brought plenty of advantages.

All in all, it was a satisfying status window.

But Jung Hyuk's attention wasn't on any of that right now.

"I was planning to save these a little longer."

He looked at his points.

Ten points.

They were the product of one special card and two regular cards he had received after the U-20 World Cup — five points from the special card, five total from the two regular ones.

At the time, Jung Hyuk had privately hoped for a new trait, but none had appeared. Still, points were an excellent reward in their own right. And because points didn't come easily, he had intended to hoard them as carefully as possible — to use them only when his stats truly refused to climb.

He had actually held onto them for about a month.

But—

"I can't just swallow treatment like this."

His pride was on the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠line. And Korean fans were watching. He intended to show the people who looked down on Asians — on Koreans — exactly what he was made of.

Simply taking it was not in Jung Hyuk's nature. He was a man who only felt satisfied when he paid back what he received — harder, and then some.

And right now—

Seuk.

With a deep, sharp smile, Jung Hyuk spent the points.

Pheee!

The match between Southampton FC and West Bromwich began.

West Bromwich had the kickoff.

Tok!

Anelka laid the ball off to Shane Long. Tok! Tok! West Bromwich was in no hurry. Following their set tactics, they began circulating the ball at a measured pace.

Against that, Southampton pressed hard. The whole team pushed their line high, disrupting West Bromwich's passing play. Of course, a high-press system like this left them vulnerable to the counter — but Manager Pochettino had ordered the press regardless, and the players carried out the instructions with everything they had.

And under Southampton's ferocious pressure, West Bromwich's passes began to grow rushed.

"Take your time on the pass!"

"You're too hurried right now!"

West Bromwich players shouted at each other, trying to lock in their focus. But Southampton's press was simply too intense.

Especially—

"What the hell is this kid?!"

Jung Hyuk came flying in at blistering speed, and the West Bromwich players couldn't hide their shock.

In the end, Jung Hyuk cut out Claudio Yacob's pass with a sliding tackle — a brilliant interception that had read the passing lane in advance.

The instant Jung Hyuk won the ball—

Booooooo!

A massive wave of boos erupted. The ugly sound echoed hard through the stadium.

One corner of Jung Hyuk's mouth curled high.

Go on. Make as much noise as you want right now.

Seuk!

Jung Hyuk scanned his surroundings.

Not many options to play it to.

He had won the ball so suddenly that his teammates weren't set for a counter yet. In a situation like this, it was better to carry it himself. Decision made, Jung Hyuk took off with the ball at his feet.

The man who stepped into the path of Jung Hyuk's high-speed dribble was defensive midfielder Youssouf Mulumbu.

That was when West Bromwich teammate McAuley called out to Mulumbu with a laugh in his voice.

"Just take it off him! Show that brat the Premier League wall!"

"Okay!"

Mulumbu answered and charged at Jung Hyuk, a thick sneer fixed on his lips.

Jung Hyuk smiled too.

"Funny for a brat, huh? Think you'll still be laughing after you lose the ball?"

"Funny how the ones who aren't worth a damn always talk the most."

Hwiik! Hwik!

Jung Hyuk shifted the ball rapidly left and right — a dazzling piece of footwork, dragging it with his right foot and then pulling it back to the left.

Mulumbu reacted. He drove his body in hard, trying to smother the skill.

Got him.

Jung Hyuk's smile deepened.

The moment Mulumbu made contact, Jung Hyuk spun his body forward. Mulumbu couldn't answer the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rotation that carried both man and ball past him.

Hwiik! Tadat!

Having beaten one man in a flash, Jung Hyuk saw West Bromwich's defenders ahead of him.

He kept running. Current Speed: 94.

Through One Who Sees Through, he had already confirmed it — not a single opposing defender was faster than him.

Huup! Jung Hyuk drew in a breath. Then he exhaled hard and accelerated. Explosive speed. Even while pouring on the pace, he never stopped the upper-body feints. The opposing defenders couldn't commit easily. All they could do was narrow the shooting angle.

It wasn't entirely ineffective. With the angle closed off, there was no space to break through. Even so, Jung Hyuk kept advancing. He dropped his speed and focused on ball control. Tok! Tok! Tok! Tok! Short, repeated touches that drew the defenders' movements out. At the same time, he kept turning his head, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠reading his teammates' runs.

The whole sequence was psychological warfare — letting the opposition know he could release a pass to a teammate at any moment.

As Jung Hyuk closed in on the edge of the penalty box, a defender finally lost patience and lunged.

It was McAuley, the center-back who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had dismissed him moments earlier.

The instant McAuley charged, Jung Hyuk flicked his right foot. Hwiik! A shooting feint, then a renewed push forward. Umchil! Fooled by the feint, McAuley turned his body for just a fraction of a second.

Jung Hyuk dribbled sideways again, carving out a shooting angle. This time the other center-back, Olsson, closed in.

And now—

The moment Olsson arrived, Jung Hyuk exploded into a sudden burst of acceleration.

It came mid-dribble, while he was still tapping the ball with quick, short touches. Olsson was beaten clean in an instant.

"Huh—!"

The space beyond the broken defensive line. Only the goal and the goalkeeper remained. Jung Hyuk entered that space with complete composure. He swung his right foot hard.

"Not a chance!"

The goalkeeper threw himself. But Jung Hyuk's right foot never struck the ball. Hwing! It swept past it.

"What the·····!"

The goalkeeper froze in shock. He was already airborne — but no shot came. West Bromwich keeper Ben Foster, suspended in midair, stared at Jung Hyuk with eyes stretched wide enough to tear.

Jung Hyuk's body rotated. The right foot he had swung as if to shoot had passed the ball, and the centrifugal force of that motion spun him around. Halfway through the turn, the rotation stopped — he planted his right foot hard into the ground and killed the spin.

And then—

Jung Hyuk struck the ball with the heel of his left foot.

A left-footed heel kick, using the rotational force generated after the shooting feint.

Naturally, Ben Foster — already committed in the air — had no chance of reacting.

Cheolreong—

The net bulged.

An eighteen-year-old making his debut today had just carved through West Bromwich's defenders with pure individual brilliance and produced a spectacular goal.

The Southampton FC fans in the stadium rose to their feet. They stopped booing and began sending up a roaring cheer.

Wooooaaaaah!

They started pouring massive applause onto the Asian who had just scored an incredible debut goal. A complete about-face.

That was when Jung Hyuk walked toward the stands.

Toward the section filled with Southampton FC supporters.

The crowd was still roaring. And Jung Hyuk looked up at them, raised his index finger, and pressed it to his lips.

The message was clear.

Shut your mouths.