Two Diamonds
Yoo Seok-cheon, chief scout for Seoul United, stood with his mouth hanging open as he stared out at the pitch.
Every eye in the stands had locked onto Jung Hyuk and Oh Jung-hoon celebrating the goal they had just scored.
Yoo Seok-cheon let out a hollow laugh.
"What the hell are those kids?"
"Whoa…! That's insane. Senior, the one who just made that pass—I'm taking him. You can have the kid who scored."
"Don't talk crazy. Hey, Kim Min-woo. You saw that cross and you're still saying that? I swear I thought it was Beckham for a second."
"I saw it, which is exactly why I'm saying it. You know as well as I do that kid is exactly the type Jeonbuk needs."
"Hey! You think Seoul doesn't need him? We're more desperate!"
"Look, no! I'm talking the club into it and bringing that kid in no matter what."
Kim Min-woo didn't give an inch. As the most senior member of Jeonbuk FC's scouting team, he had no intention of handing a discovered gem over to another club.
Yoo Seok-cheon scowled at the younger man shaking his head so firmly.
"This is why soccer never makes sense. Who the hell expected two gems to come out of Jeongun High of all places?"
"One of them's a diamond."
"From where I'm standing, both look like diamonds. And diamonds are gems, aren't they?"
"Well… yeah, they're gems. But both? Senior, you really think both of them are diamonds?"
"Yeah. So which one of them do you think isn't?"
"The one who scored. His physique is monstrous and he's ridiculously fast for that size, but calling him a diamond already feels like a stretch…"
"Kid, if you're going to talk, finish the sentence. Why are you trailing off?"
"Ah! Because you said he's a diamond, so I can't argue! Your eye for talent isn't normal—it's optimized for spotting prospects!"
"Then why are you yelling? You're going to blow out my eardrums."
"Because it's embarrassing!"
"…Has this kid lost his mind?"
"Ahem… So, Senior Yoo, why do you think that big guy is a diamond? Care to teach your junior a thing or two?"
"Why would I teach something to a guy working for another club? You trying to get me fired?"
"We're school juniors and seniors. Don't you know school ties? Senior, is that all our connection is worth?"
"You only bring up school ties at times like this, don't you?"
"I'm hurt… So you're really not going to tell me, Se-nior?"
"Ugh! Fine, you win. That big kid who just scored—his name is…"
"Oh Jung-hoon."
"Right, Oh Jung-hoon. Watch the way he moves when he scores and you'll see it. First touch is something you either have or you don't, and that kid was born with it. You know as well as I do—when a striker has a real first touch, it's a massive weapon. And look at that physique. The data says he's 193 cm and 88 kg."
"Physical gifts are solid, yeah. He wouldn't get pushed around easily even by European players."
"Exactly. And he's only eighteen—that's a monster. He could still grow more from here. But when you go pro, players with that kind of frame aren't completely unheard of, right?"
"…True. You can find a few even in the domestic league."
"The problem is, even in the K League, players with that physique and clean footwork are rare. And this eighteen-year-old has soft feet too. The way he holds the ball and instantly creates an angle—you might miss it at a glance, but look closer and the details are razor-sharp. Without any exaggeration, that was a finish you only see from top-class strikers. And the shot itself was flawless. If a player like that isn't a diamond, who the hell is?"
"So you're saying he'd be a starter even at the pro level?"
"Not right away. Pros demand intense tactical training, and you have to fit the manager's system. But he's the kind of talent who will become a starter eventually—that's certain. I'll bet you on it."
"I'd have to be crazy to take a bet against you, Senior. No thanks."
"Haha, chicken?"
"Whatever. So what about the other kid, then?"
"Who? That Jung Hyuk kid?"
"Yes."
"That one is just a soccer genius. I still can't figure out how he stayed off my radar this long."
While the K League scouts scrambled, the two players who had just produced a perfect pass and a perfect finish remained completely unfazed.
Joy belonged only to the moment the ball hit the net. After that, the two of them talked about only one thing: how to score the next one.
"Hyuk, you were right. They're starting to rattle."
"From now on, the second I get the ball they'll press with extra numbers. And they'll do everything they can to stop you from running in behind. So what do you do?"
Oh Jung-hoon grinned at the question.
"Use their psychology against them. We've drilled this until we were sick of it, right?"
"Exactly. Just do what we practiced. If a variable shows up, we adjust on the fly."
"Heh! Even if something unexpected happens, I don't see us losing. You'll just drop another honey of a pass, won't you?"
"Don't get cocky. Nothing good comes from it."
"Cocky? That word doesn't exist for me. But Hyuk—what the hell was that pass just now? It felt way better than in training. If I exaggerate a little, I thought you were Beckham."
"Beckham, my ass. Just got lucky. The ball curled nicer than usual."
"Next one's a Verón pass, then."
"As long as it's not a 'meh-rong' pass, I'm fine. Hah!"
"…Are you sure you're eighteen?"
Jung Hyuk looked away. Oh Jung-hoon, the one who had made the terrible pun, was already clutching his stomach and laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world.
…Sorry. I'm a thirty-eight-year-old ajusshi myself, but I just can't take your dad jokes, Jung-hoon.
Peeeeep!
The referee blew the whistle—celebration time was over; get back into position.
Jeongun High and Chungjeon High reset themselves. Once the referee confirmed both sides were ready, he restarted the match.
Peeep!
Having conceded so early, Chungjeon High steadied their nerves and began to play with real intent. You could hear it in the tempo of their passing alone.
Thud! Tap!
Unlike the opening minutes, Chungjeon now moved the ball quickly, trying to slice open Jeongun's defense. Rapid circulation to create gaps and scatter attention, then a burst from a speedy winger and a cross—classic 4-4-2. Against a Jeongun side whose fullbacks weren't especially quick, it was a dangerous approach.
Naturally, Jeongun's coach Lee Jun-seok was roaring at the top of his lungs, trying to keep his players locked in.
"Focus! Don't let them beat you one-on-one!"
"Hey! Lee Geon-ho! Their feet are fast—don't give them space! Press harder!"
Even so, Jeongun's flanks kept getting torn open by Chungjeon's wingers. All Jeongun could do for the moment was hunker down and defend.
Yet even while they were being pushed back in chaos, two predators still lurked with their fangs hidden.
Get ready.
Okay.
Jung Hyuk and Oh Jung-hoon locked eyes. Instantly Oh Jung-hoon stopped tracking back and began drifting carefully forward. Jung Hyuk, meanwhile, sprinted toward the Chungjeon players circulating the ball on Jeongun's right flank.
To stop fast players, you give up what you have to give up—and never surrender the dangerous spaces.
In high-school tournaments, detailed scouting of every opponent was nearly impossible. That made individual ability, team organization, and the quality of the coaching staff even more decisive. How quickly a side could read the opposition and adjust tactics often decided the result.
Right now Jeongun High was failing to respond quickly enough to Chungjeon's attack. At this rate, another goal conceded wouldn't have been surprising at all. So Jung Hyuk decided to drop into defense himself and take control of the game.
In his previous life, Jung Hyuk had been a true multi-position player. Solid in attack, defense, and passing, he could fill fullback, midfield, or striker roles without complaint. When teammates were sidelined by a string of injuries, he had even played center-back. His favorite position remained central midfield, but if the manager needed him anywhere, he was always ready.
And now, the man who had even filled in as a defender in the Premier League stepped in front of Chungjeon's winger.
"Why is a midfielder all the way down here? You think you can stop me?"
Chungjeon's winger Choi Jin-woo snorted. The corner of Jung Hyuk's mouth curled upward. In his eyes the kid in front of him looked almost adorable.
Full of confidence. Well, he's at that age—peak swagger.
On top of that, Choi had been roasting Jeongun's fullback all afternoon. Of course he felt invincible.
All right then. Let's see how good you really are.
Jung Hyuk watched Choi Jin-woo carefully.
Whoosh! Whip!
Choi swayed his upper body, trying to bait Jung Hyuk into committing a foot. If Jung Hyuk lunged and lost his balance, Choi would explode past him with pure acceleration; if the foot came in deep, he would simply go down and win a free kick.
Jung Hyuk never wavered. He dropped his center of gravity and took small steps backward, reading every twitch.
In the end, you're the one who's impatient.
A winger always wants to do something—whip in a cross or take a shot—before the defense can fully reorganize. Jung Hyuk knew that psychology cold. And when the opponent was a Korean high-schooler, it was fair to say the kid was already sitting in the palm of his hand.
Finally—
"Stop me if you can!"
Choi Jin-woo could wait no longer. The feint became a real move.
Whip!
A dummy step with the right foot, then a burst to the left—the classic move of every speed merchant who trusted his legs.
And it was exactly the move Jung Hyuk had expected.
Knew it.
Jung Hyuk launched himself, leg fully extended. The timing was perfect—zero margin of error.
Slash!
His outstretched leg swept cleanly under Choi's. Even while sliding, Jung Hyuk kept his foot low and his eyes locked on the ball the entire way.
"Ugh!"
Choi tried desperately to shield it, but the ball was already under Jung Hyuk's control. Lightning-fast tackle.
Jung Hyuk rose in one motion and looked straight ahead, locking onto Oh Jung-hoon's position. The big striker was already tearing forward. Sharp kid.
Grinning wide, Jung Hyuk watched Oh Jung-hoon suddenly cut diagonally. That run had been drilled into them during training until it was second nature. Seeing Oh Jung-hoon keep his focus even under the pressure of a real tournament made Jung Hyuk smile without thinking.
All that remained was simple: deliver the ball exactly where Oh Jung-hoon wanted it most.
This is route-one football, you bastards.
Boom—
The ball left Jung Hyuk's foot in a long, arcing drive, weighted perfectly to Oh Jung-hoon's diagonal sprint. Chungjeon's defenders had been wary of the big striker running in behind, but in a sudden counter like this, knowing and stopping were two different things. And when the attacker also possessed clean technique and clinical finishing, stopping him became nearly impossible.
The man they had to stop was Jeongun High's original ace—Oh Jung-hoon.
Tap!
Oh Jung-hoon killed the ball with his trademark soft touch, then immediately looked to create an angle the same way he had for the first goal. He was certain that if he could just open up the shooting lane, the ball would go in.
Then the variable appeared.
What? Why is he out so fast?
Chungjeon's goalkeeper Lee Jae-ik had abandoned his line with blistering reaction speed and was already in Oh Jung-hoon's face by the time the striker settled the ball. The sudden proximity threw Oh Jung-hoon off.
Too close…!
A shot would almost certainly hit the keeper's body; trying to round him left no room at all. For an ordinary striker, the ball would have been lost right there.
But this was where Oh Jung-hoon's instincts shone. He sold a quick toe-poke—the so-called "toe-punt"—then dragged the ball back with the sole of his foot.
Whoosh! He spun his body, creating just enough space that the keeper couldn't close him down cleanly. In that same breath he searched for a teammate.
Somebody—anybody—get here!
Then a figure appeared in his peripheral vision, already closing the distance at full speed.
Hyuk!
It was Jung Hyuk. Oh Jung-hoon simply rolled the ball into the path of his oncoming run. Seeing the movement, Lee Jae-ik had no choice but to leave his line again.
Jung Hyuk's eyes widened slightly.
Quick reactions on this kid.
Chungjeon's goalkeeper possessed remarkable reflexes and solid decision-making. The way he narrowed the angle so Jung Hyuk couldn't hit a first-time shot was genuinely excellent.
But there was one thing Lee Jae-ik did not know.
The player who now had the ball had once been a World Class footballer. He was the man once called the best player in Korea—Jung Hyuk.
"Thanks for coming out."
With a completely nonchalant expression, Jung Hyuk simply chipped the ball—tap.
It left his foot slowly, drawing a perfect parabola that floated over the keeper and dropped into the net.
Lee Jae-ik turned his head and stared blankly at the ball that had sailed over him and into the goal.
And in that instant—
Ding!
A system message bloomed in front of Jung Hyuk's eyes.
It was a very welcome message indeed.