The Celebration Authority

Beep! Beep! Beeeeeep!

Mm-hmm, fair enough. What if you slap on a curse like "How Jeonbuk Became a Powerhouse" and then they get obliterated in the Korea Cup a few days from now? Then what?

Honestly, looking at pure performance alone, I could understand why the casters and commentators felt the treble might be within reach. But even an overwhelming favorite can collapse at any moment — that's sports. You couldn't afford to get cocky or act like the wins were already banked.

I managed to clean it up somehow, but we ate a ridiculous early goal and even fell behind. The whole atmosphere almost completely fell apart.

Sure, riding a winning streak early in the season was a good thing. But that wasn't only because we were playing well — other teams weren't fully fit yet either. Once the league moved past the opening stretch into the mid and late stages, and every side finished adapting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the new season and started climbing into form, the rest of the table would become a lot harder to ignore.

Football history was littered with teams that looked overwhelming early, got hyped as league favorites, and then got swallowed whole by the traditional powerhouses once the second half of the campaign rolled around. If the goal was the title, the smart move was to throw complacency in the trash and grind at everything.

Of course, right after the final whistle, a little downtime was fair game.

"YEEEAAAH! Every bastard who talked shit about us last year, get out here! What was that — Jeonbuk's dying ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gasp? Give me a fucking break, you absolute dogs!"

"Who was that one guy? Some journalist — the one calling 2010s Jeonbuk a water rocket, a home invasion, all that crap. That guy was the most ridiculous of all, I'm telling you."

"Water rocket my ass. If a water rocket sits at the top of the league from 2010 all the way to 2029, you need to swap the propellant out for water."

"What—what the hell are you guys saying... I can't understand a word when you talk in Korean, you PUTA bastards!"

"Xaperi, just say VAMOS."

"VAMOOOOOS!"

"Damn it! I could have scored that. If Mom had made me drink plain milk instead ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of strawberry milk, I would have put it away!"

"Hyung! What's wrong with that Yoon Seung-hwan guy? He's been going on about milk this whole time."

"I have no idea. But he must have chugged an insane amount of strawberry milk as a kid. He's been stuck on strawberry milk since the whistle."

Ugh, what a circus. I step out of the shower and this is the chaos waiting for me? Please tell me none of this water got into my bag.

I peeled myself free of the ear-splitting singing and the seniors' post-match pressure release, grabbed my clothes from my bag, and slipped out quietly. For a player who had just clutched a game that had been slipping away, it was a pretty underwhelming exit — but that was exactly why I had to move carefully. One second of thought made it obvious what would happen if I walked straight into that mess and the seniors spotted me.

They straighten me out, force a round of the victory chant, make me deliver a full speech, then hit me with a water baptism.

I wasn't being dramatic. If it had been empty talk, I would have just gone along with the vibe and left. Years of playing had given me an instinct, and that instinct said if I got sucked into that party I would not walk out in one piece. So I moved accordingly.

There was another reason I needed to slip out this carefully, though.

"Yi-an! I was so scared I nearly jumped out of my skin! You know how close that was without you, right?"

"I know. I scored that goal so my girlfriend's first VIP-seat experience would be a good memory."

"Hehe. Really? Thank you, Yi-an..."

A-yoon buried her face in my chest and nuzzled against me like she couldn't be happier. Lately I'd been thinking her affection had definitely ramped up. How to put it — before, she would have just said thank you and gone red in the face. Now she was actively leaning in like this. Of course, that only happened when nobody was watching. But even that much was more than enough for me. Creating a space with no eyes on us wasn't hard in the first place.

Thinking about it again, Oliver really did solid work. All I said was I wanted my girlfriend to use the VIP seats for every home game, and he got my whole family covered too. I even mentioned wanting those little extras, and he delivered. Not only did he lock in every clause that had to be there, he got me top-tier K League wages. And being a British agent — the original masters of contract games — he took throwaway lines and buried them in the actual paperwork.

At this level, he absolutely earns being called elite. Now I get why Tariq Emile was always bragging to me about his agent. When I move overseas later, I should make sure Oliver gets a nice cut too.

There was nothing more important than building a good relationship with an excellent agent. For a safe, bright future, that much was easy to give.

I was about to stroke A-yoon's hair as she nuzzled into my chest when she suddenly jerked her head up, eyes sparkling.

"Ah! I completely forgot something!"

"Forgot something? What is it?"

"Yi-an. Are you free tomorrow? It doesn't have to be tomorrow, though."

"Yeah, I'm free. I didn't have anything planned, so I was thinking of hanging out with you anyway."

Right after the match, before the dressing-room party erupted, the coach had stood in front of us and said it clearly.

"Today's win was a miracle you created with your own ability. There were some regrettable moments in between, but still — being the ones who win is a hell of a lot better than being the ones who lose. You all worked hard. I'm giving everyone about two days off, so rest well and I'll see you then."

A proper leave granted by the coach himself — not a suspension, not a yellow-card accumulation. I'd been thinking of grabbing a meal with her after school, but she beat me to the question.

"Is there somewhere you want to go? Hard to hang out because of school?"

"It's less about hanging out and more... would you meet one of my friends? She says she has something she wants to talk about."

"A friend?"

What could A-yoon's friend possibly need to discuss with me? I looked at her with an expression that asked whether I should prepare an autograph. A-yoon hesitated a moment, then laid out the real purpose.

"You remember Ji-yoo, right? She said she has a few things she wants to ask you."

"Ji-yoo? Wait — Ha Ji-yoo?"

Hearing a name I hadn't expected, I looked at A-yoon with genuine confusion.

The meeting with Ha Ji-yoo happened the very next day — Monday, the day after the Pohang match.

After school, we met at a nearby café, and Ha Ji-yoo went straight to the point.

"I heard from A-yoon that you already know a bit about me. So I'll cut to the chase — our company is developing a new game, and we'd like you to be a model for it."

"A model?"

"Yes. It's nothing weird, so you don't have to be on guard. It's a football game."

Ha Ji-yoo smiled as she made the offer. She was working hard to reassure me that the game she wanted me to model for wasn't anything strange — but she didn't need to. I'd already read the novel. I knew exactly which game she meant.

She's talking about FCM 29, isn't she?

Unlike earlier titles that just ran matches or simulations on a computer or console, Meta Vibe — the company her father ran — had been building a game that used their own capsule system so you could experience football more immersively. FCM 29 let you use a VR capsule to step into a virtual world and either play as a footballer or live the life of a manager.

In the original story, Yoon Seung-hwan suffered quite a bit because of this. After getting knocked out in the World Cup semifinals, he snapped and said something like, "If you're so frustrated, you go play then" — only for a pro gamer to answer, "I copied your exact stats and made it to the final," leaving him with nothing.

It had mostly been used as a gag, but it was such a fresh shock that I still remembered it. Modeling for a game like that wouldn't be bad. From what I recalled, it got huge, so the money would be solid too.

The problem is that Ha Ji-yoo is the one pitching this to me...

I looked at her smiling face across the table and took a sip of my iced americano. It wasn't that I thought she was lying. I just found it strange that an offer to model for a newly launching game was coming out of her mouth.

Ha Ji-yoo is still a high schooler. In the future she ends up with serious influence at Meta Vibe, but right now she's just the chairman's daughter.

Was it really appropriate for someone in her position to make this kind of offer? Even if I accepted the modeling pitch, would it actually lead to a formal contract? Those doubts were inevitable.

As if she could read exactly what I was stuck on, Ha Ji-yoo added an explanation.

"For the record, this is only me asking about your interest — not a formal offer. But if you let us know you're open to it, we'll send a proper contract to your agent in the next few days. I can guarantee that. I've already gotten my father's approval."

"Is that so?"

Then there was no problem ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at all. Looking at it from Ha Ji-yoo's side — they needed a model for a new game, and her friend's boyfriend just happened to be an active footballer, so she approached him personally and floated the idea. If I showed clear interest, it would move into a formal contract. With that much certainty, there was no reason to hesitate.

"In that case, it shouldn't be difficult. So what would I actually need to do? Wear some gear and move around like I'm playing a match?"

"You would wear the gear, but... you don't need to play a match. We're trying to get data. That's all we need."

"Really? So, what, running or ball control — that kind of thing?"

Technology had come a long way — maybe with a few simple movements the rest could be handled by programming. I was briefly impressed by how far the world had come when Ha Ji-yoo hesitated, then carefully asked me something.

"Um, Yi-an? The modeling we wanted to propose was for the celebration part..."

"What?"

"You know, the celebrations. The ones after you score. We researched this, and since it's a competitive game, having elements that let you teabag the other side is apparently a big plus. So, put bluntly, we were looking for 'someone who can pull off celebrations so infuriating that victims want to smash their keyboards' — and the only player who perfectly matches that condition is you, Yi-an..."

"..."

"Ah! That last part wasn't from me. An anonymous player recommended you. He said there is no greater authority on rage-inducing celebrations than Baek Yi-an, and that we absolutely had to make this offer to him."

Anonymous? No, for fuck's sake — anyone can see that's Yoon Seung-hwan.

The moment Ha Ji-yoo finished speaking, I squeezed my eyes shut and clenched my jaw.

Looks like Yoon Seung-hwan had gotten me good this time.