London City Stadium
I stood in front of the main entrance to London City Stadium.
Honestly, I hadn't expected much. How impressive could the home ground of a mid-to-lower-table Championship side be?
But the sight before me was far more striking than I'd imagined.
It wasn't on the overwhelming scale of a Premier League giant's arena, but it carried its own dignity and elegance.
"Boss, check that out. The London City FC logo looks so cool."
Yoon Tae-young gushed beside me like a kid. The shield-shaped emblem on the stadium's exterior wall blended blue and silver in perfect harmony. It was undeniably sleek.
"Yeah, it's pretty solid."
I nodded without thinking. From the logo design to the building's facade, everything felt meticulously crafted—no corners cut.
What was the word for it?
This stadium made me feel like I could devote myself entirely to football. That's the vibe it gave off.
"Senior!"
A familiar face approached from the main gate, waving with a beaming smile. It was Yu Hyeon-seong, his expression brimming with genuine joy.
"...He's not usually the type to smile like that."
Yoon Tae-young muttered beside me. Before he could finish, Hyeon-seong bolted over like a lightning bolt and bowed at a perfect ninety degrees in front of me.
"It's an honor to escort you, Senior."
"Thanks for coming out to meet us, Hyeon-seong."
He scratched his head at my greeting.
"Actually, Director William wanted to come out himself."
"Really? Then why..."
"I talked him out of it."
I gave him a puzzled look.
"Why's that?"
"I figured you'd feel more at ease exploring without the director there. Didn't want you to feel pressured, so I came alone."
His thoughtfulness touched me deeply. He was right—if William had shown up, it would've felt less like a tour and more like a job interview.
"Thanks, Hyeon-seong. I appreciate you thinking of that."
"Of course. Shall we head inside?"
Hyeon-seong led the way through the main gate. The moment we stepped into the stadium, an exclamation escaped me unbidden.
"Whoa..."
The interior was even more impressive than the outside suggested.
"What do you think? Our home ground."
Hyeon-seong asked with evident pride.
"It's pretty damn good. This seats thirty thousand?"
"Yes, exactly thirty-two thousand. Being a dedicated football stadium, the stands are remarkably close to the pitch—that's the standout feature."
As he explained, the distance between the seats and the field was astonishingly intimate. From that range, you'd hear the players' breaths, the thud of boots on ball—everything vivid and alive. It felt like the crowd could run alongside the players on the pitch itself.
"Especially check out that stand over there."
He pointed to the massive section opposite the main stand.
"That's where our ultras sit. It's a sight to behold during matches—they cheer to the end, even when things get tough."
I nodded. Imagining their fervent support as I played made my heart race.
Yoon Tae-young nodded in awe beside me.
"Boss, this is a proper stadium. Feels better than the ones we played on."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
I agreed completely. This club seemed dead serious about football.
"Want to see the training facilities next?"
Hyeon-seong suggested.
On the way to the training area, the corridor walls were lined with the club's history and photos of legendary players, all meticulously displayed. Every room boasted state-of-the-art equipment tailored to its purpose.
"This is our main training pitch."
He opened the door, and Yoon Tae-young and I both gaped. The indoor pitch was cutting-edge: pristine artificial turf, analysis monitors embedded throughout the walls.
"That's the motion analysis system. It breaks down every movement in real-time and suggests improvements."
"For real?"
"Yeah. Over there are the fitness monitors—heart rate, speed, acceleration, all tracked live."
Listening to Yu Hyeon-seong's rundown as we toured, the place radiated top-tier professionalism.
"We've got a weights room too. Want to check it out?"
"Obviously."
The gym was packed with the latest gear—every machine a pro footballer could need.
"Whoa, isn't this equipment crazy expensive?"
Yoon Tae-young marveled, touching one machine.
"Yep. The club takes player conditioning very seriously."
Suddenly, Hyeon-seong clapped as if remembering something.
"Oh, right! They told me to make sure you saw this."
"What?"
"The recovery room. Senior, you have to see it."
He led me to a room at the end of the hall. When he opened the door, my eyes widened.
"This is..."
The space brimmed with high-tech equipment I'd never seen before.
"That's a cryotherapy chamber—great for muscle recovery. And that one..."
Each device he pointed out was premium rehab gear, insanely pricey. What caught my eye most was a machine in the corner.
"What's that?"
"Oh, that? A polymer ultrasound therapy unit. Supposed to be amazing for joint injuries like knees or ankles."
My heart skipped. Exactly what I needed.
"Does it really work?"
"Yeah, I used it last season for an ankle sprain. Healed up fast."
I stared at it for a long moment. If it was legit, it could change everything for my recovery.
"Interested, Senior?"
"Yeah... a bit."
Truth was, I was hooked—but I didn't want to show it too much.
"Shall we head out? Let's check the outdoor training field."
As we left the recovery room and walked the corridor, a massive tent and construction noise came into view outside the window.
"What's that?"
I pointed, and Hyeon-seong tilted his head.
"Oh, that? Coach Lechat Samot demanded it—some classified training facility. Not sure on the details."
"Classified training facility?"
"Yeah. Part of the contract terms, apparently. Something about needing it to develop raw Championship kids. Looks like it could be a small stadium itself."
I eyed the enormous tent. It was training-ground sized, easy.
"What the hell are they planning..."
"Who knows. With the coach's personality, it's gotta be some wild training method."
His words sparked my curiosity. Lechat Samot? He was probably cooking up something insane no one could predict.
The guy's a certified lunatic.
His eccentricity was world-renowned.
We reached the training field, and I marveled again at the immaculate natural turf.
"Wow, the pitch is in perfect shape."
"Yeah, dedicated groundskeepers tend it daily—for peak training conditions."
Hyeon-seong explained proudly. Then a mischievous grin crossed his face.
"Senior, want to run a quick drill?"
"A drill?"
"Yeah. Been a while since we shared a pitch."
He fetched a ball from somewhere and tossed it to me.
"...Ha. I'd love to, but I'll pass this time."
Yoon Tae-young slumped onto the bench with a disappointed look, and Yu Hyeon-seong and I headed to the center of the field.
"Senior, do you know how much I've admired you?"
Yu Hyeon-seong said abruptly as we warmed up.
"Ever since high school, you've been my idol. I always dreamed of standing on the same pitch someday."
I gave an awkward smile.
"You're too kind."
"No, really."
His eyes turned earnest.
"Especially your performances breaking from the fourth tier to the Championship... I can't forget them."
"Come on, it wasn't that big a deal."
The usually quiet guy going on like this embarrassed me naturally. But once Hyeon-seong got started, there was no stopping him.
"I loved your style of football. The kind that utterly dismantles the opposition. Like you were the sole protagonist on the pitch, shining alone."
A bittersweet smile tugged at my lips. That had been me—before the injury. My play had shifted completely since: less flashy individualism, more selfless team play and responsibility.
"Actually, I'm the one who recommended you to the director."
"You?"
"Yes. And yeah, I was thinking of your past self when I did."
"Figured as much."
"But the director said he wanted to sign the current you."
"The current me?"
"Yeah. 'Responsible football.'"
Hyeon-seong looked at me intently.
"He said every step you take carries the weight of the entire pitch—like you're shouldering it all."
Complex emotions swirled inside me. They wanted the changed me, not the old flashy version. That was unexpected.
Suddenly, he dropped into a defensive stance, body low.
His presence turned deadly serious. At 191cm, the heavy pressure he exuded crushed the air over the field in an instant.
Worth the MVP of Korea's U-23 World Cup win.
I admired inwardly. His defensive instincts were elite, especially one-on-one—no one in the Championship broke him easily. His aura was overwhelming.
I pondered my move.
How to get past Yu Hyeon-seong?
That instant—
"Pardon the intrusion. Forgive my rudeness."
His eyes sharpened, and he lunged forward.