No More Toxic Discipline
Swoosh!
Jung Hyuk dropped into a low stance, spreading his legs wide this time. It was the only way to hold his ground in a physical battle against two opponents at once.
And in that exact moment, the two thugs—Kim Jun-hyuk and Kang Hyun-jae—slammed into him together. The charge was hard enough that any ordinary high schooler would have gone sprawling.
Jung Hyuk did not flinch. Recent high-intensity weight training had built up his physique, and in his previous life he had always been exceptional at absorbing pressure. On top of that—
Have you two ever gone shoulder-to-shoulder with Romelu Lukaku?
Jung Hyuk was a man who had collided with the physical monster himself. With his body already so much stronger than before, the charging of two high schoolers was something he could take with a smile.
He kept the low stance and flung both arms wide, bracing against them. In that instant his elbows bent just slightly—and each one drove straight into Kim Jun-hyuk’s and Kang Hyun-jae’s solar plexuses.
Thud!
The sensation through his elbows made Jung Hyuk grin.
Clean hits.
“Keuhk!”
“Uuuk! Uuuugh!”
Kim Jun-hyuk and Kang Hyun-jae rolled across the ground, faces twisted in agony as they clutched their stomachs. The surrounding players and Coach Lee Jun-seok, who had been refereeing, stared at the two thugs in blank confusion—then quickly looked away. Jung Hyuk’s counter had been so subtle it had slipped perfectly past their eyes. Or perhaps they had seen it and simply chosen not to.
Only Kim Jun-hyuk and Kang Hyun-jae glared up at Coach Lee Jun-seok and Jung Hyuk with wounded, resentful eyes.
Next time I’ll hit you even harder, seniors.
A faint smile still on his lips, Jung Hyuk took the ball and ran.
After the practice match ended, Jung Hyuk loosened his muscles with light stretching. That was when a boy approached him.
Jung-hoon?
The boy was Oh Jung-hoon—tall enough that Jung Hyuk, at 181 cm, had to tip his head back just to look him in the face. Oh Jung-hoon was a boy blessed with a 193 cm, 88 kg frame, and his soccer talent and physical ability were monstrous. If not for the injuries, he would have been more than good enough to shine in Europe.
Time to start being careful about those injuries.
Oh Jung-hoon grinned and spoke.
“Hyuk, what are you doing after this?”
“Me? I was going to go train. Why?”
“Doesn’t it get boring doing nothing but train every day? Wanna hit the PC bang for once?”
Jung Hyuk smiled at the suggestion.
Around this time I used to go to the PC bang with Jung-hoon every now and then.
The memories of hanging out with his closest friend were still vivid. For a moment he wavered.
Should I go play games for old times’ sake?
The StarCraft he used to love flickered in front of his eyes. Then he shook his head.
The Ballon d’Or isn’t an award you can be sure of winning even if you pour everything into soccer alone. And growth slows the higher you climb—so from now on I have to train even harder.
He was growing at a monstrous rate right now, but Jung Hyuk knew the truth: that pace would not last forever. Past a certain level, progress slowed dramatically. He had to raise his stats as high as possible while he still could.
“Jung-hoon, let’s do the PC bang next time.”
“What?! Jung Hyuk turning down a PC bang? I knew you were soccer-crazy, but refusing a PC bang…?”
“The gym owner I’ve been going to lately is pretty intense.”
“Lately it feels like you’ve turned into a different person. You always worked hard before, but never like this… and your skills have shot up too.”
“I think I had a bit of an epiphany.”
“I want one of those epiphanies.”
“You just worry about not getting hurt. Keep doing that shady home training of yours and you’re going to wreck your body.”
Oh Jung-hoon’s eyes went wide.
“Y-you?! How do you know I train at home?”
Ah, crap.
Jung Hyuk silently cursed. This was apparently before Oh Jung-hoon had ever mentioned training alone at home.
Regressing twenty years will scramble your memories.
But he recovered instantly.
“Look at your physique. You think a body like that comes from soccer alone? Even with natural talent, I figured you had to be doing some weights at home.”
“Ooooh… sharp!”
“I am pretty sharp, yeah.”
“Na Ye-ri, you evil woman.”
“Huh? Random much?”
“Uwahahat! You don’t know Run, Hani? It’s a classic line from the show. You said you were sharp, so I did the Na Ye-ri impression!”
“Uh… right?”
Jung Hyuk was thrown. It was 2013, and the other guy was a high schooler. A thirty-eight-year-old Jung Hyuk had no idea how to respond to an eighteen-year-old friend’s sudden dad-joke ambush.
Oh Jung-hoon always loved weird jokes and ajumma gags, but… I can’t even pretend to take this one.
So he changed the subject fast.
“Anyway, Jung-hoon—how about learning proper weight training for real? It definitely helps with physical battles and explosive power.”
“Yeah? I’ll talk to my folks about it.”
Oh Jung-hoon responded positively. Jung Hyuk smiled. A stranger would have been one thing, but Oh Jung-hoon was a precious friend. The thought that he might never again have to watch that friend collapse under injuries made him feel good.
At that moment Jung Hyuk still had no idea something was about to sour his mood—or that people were already watching him with hostile eyes.
After cool-down, it was time to head home. The third-years were resting while the first- and second-years cleaned up. Jung Hyuk moved balls without a word of complaint. Then a loud voice rang out.
“Hey! First-years and second-years, gather up!”
The speaker was Kim Jun-hyuk, one of the thug clique. Tall, with sharp eyes, he was the senior the underclassmen of the soccer team feared most. Seniors enforcing hierarchy on juniors was common in this era. Coaches and managers often looked the other way. They did so now. Even though the thugs’ voices were clearly audible, the coach and manager did not slow their steps toward the exit for even a second.
Emboldened, the thugs called the underclassmen together. Every soccer team member except the third-years gathered in a corner of the field. Kim Jun-hyuk put on a heavy air and began.
“You guys have gotten way too soft lately. Since when did Jeongwoon High’s discipline get this loose? Hey, Oh Jung-hoon.”
The first target was Jeongwoon High’s ace, Oh Jung-hoon.
“Yes, senior.”
“You not managing the kids these days? We’ve been nice to you so far, so now you think you can half-ass it? Huh? Just because you can play a little soccer, nothing’s sacred anymore, you bastard?”
“……I’m sorry.”
Oh Jung-hoon bowed his head. He had been through this many times. He knew that in situations like this, staying quiet was the smartest move.
“Especially that Jung Hyuk bastard—you not managing him? What’s that guy been eating lately? Why’s he acting so cocky? Huh? Maybe he needs a good beating to straighten him out?”
“…….”
“Kids.”
“Yes!”
The soccer team members answered in a loud chorus. Apparently satisfied, Kim Jun-hyuk continued with a faint smile.
“Soccer skill matters, but manners between seniors and juniors matter more. You all know that, right? You think we third-years never went through the same thing when we were your age? We all did. So please, just do it right. Especially you, Jung Hyuk. Lately your skills have gone up a bit and you’ve been quietly disrespecting your seniors. Keep that up and you’re actually dead, you hear me?”
Jung Hyuk’s lips twitched. And then—
“Pffft!”
He finally burst out laughing.
This is insane.
Watching nineteen-year-olds play army was simply too funny to hold in. Jung Hyuk had never done regular military service like most people, but he had served his time with the police-affiliated Asan Mugunghwa pro soccer team. On top of that, he had played in the K League—Korea’s top division—until he moved to Europe at thirty-two. When it came to hierarchy and discipline, he had far more experience than the nineteen-year-old standing in front of him. Of course it was hilarious.
“Funny, is it? Huh? You fucking laughing right now?”
Kim Jun-hyuk glared at Jung Hyuk with a flushed face. His eyes were sharp for a nineteen-year-old—but to Jung Hyuk he still looked like a child. The atmosphere turned cold. In the middle of it, Jung Hyuk answered with a bright, circling smile.
“I was listening and it just got too funny.”
“What? What’s so funny?”
“That for a soccer player, manners matter more than skill? Who the hell came up with that line? If someone actually said that, was he a guy who played in Europe? Or someone who bounced around domestically, retired, and now coaches like a bitter old man? Or maybe an internet keyboard warrior who never even made it pro? I’m not trying to put down people who played their careers here. But where’s the dream stage for soccer players? Europe, right? Isn’t that most players’ dream? If a starter spot in Europe was guaranteed, wouldn’t most players jump at it?”
Jung Hyuk swallowed once and continued.
“But manners? Manners more important than skill? Does Europe put manners first? No. Over there, skill is everything. If you’ve got the skill, you start even if your private life is a mess. That’s Europe. And let’s get the words right. The ones who haven’t shown manners aren’t us—it’s a few of the seniors, isn’t it? And when did I ever disrespect my seniors? The ones being disrespected are the juniors standing here because of this worthless toxic discipline. Is this 1988? Huh? We’re already short on time just focusing on soccer—why are you scaring and shaking the juniors?”
“……This bastard!”
“Don’t call me bastard. Why should I have to hear ‘bastard’ from a senior? Why do I have to play soccer while getting cursed at? If you’re a senior, act like one and set an example with your skill. Stop trying to get senior treatment by putting on this cheap fear atmosphere.”
Every first- and second-year froze solid. Kim Jun-hyuk was the kind of senior who ruled the school like a king among the delinquent clique—and among them, the one juniors feared most for his fighting ability and vicious temperament. Not just the soccer team: every underclassman at Jeongwoon High, even his own classmates, watched their step around him. And right now the four other thugs who ran with him were standing right there. No junior in Jeongwoon High history had ever thought of talking back in front of five third-year delinquent seniors.
That was why every first- and second-year stared at Jung Hyuk with eyes wide enough to tear.
Then—
“Hyuk, are you crazy? Apologize right now! Seniors! Lately Hyuk’s been a little on edge because of personal stuff… hahaha…!”
Oh Jung-hoon, who normally got along with everyone regardless of year and even maintained decent relations with the thugs, tried to smooth things over with a panicked face. But—
“Jung-hoon, you don’t need to.”
Jung Hyuk refused. He had no intention of letting this slide. To reach his goal he had to pour an enormous amount of effort into soccer—even with S-class talent. Europe was full of players with insane gifts. Resting on good talent was a death sentence. To become the best required the best talent and the maximum effort. To win against the future stars he would face, he had to devote as much time as possible to training. That meant cutting off the weeds in front of him right now. In his past life, how much time had he wasted getting dragged out by these thugs? He refused to live that way again.
This actually works out perfectly.
He had been waiting for a chance. Them creating the stage for him was almost a favor.
“You lecturing me right now? Huh?”
Kim Jun-hyuk’s eyes bulged as he spoke. Jung Hyuk did not so much as flinch. Instead he lifted the corner of his mouth and answered.
“Can’t a senior learn something from a junior once in a while? That kind of old-man mindset isn’t great for improving your game.”
“Ha! This bastard’s actually lost it. Hey! Get over here.”
“We’re close enough that we can hear each other fine—why the come-here, go-there? Just talk from there. If you really want to speak up close, you come.”
The faces of Kim Jun-hyuk and the other thugs flushed red enough to burst.
“Fine. I’m coming, you bastard.”
With a murderous expression, Kim Jun-hyuk started toward Jung Hyuk.