Brand Potential
“Want me to buy you some alcohol… Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
I glanced over my shoulder and gently turned the steering wheel.
End of work hours.
As the long sunset stretched across the windshield, Yeon-hui sat with her arms crossed and her lips pouting.
“You know I love tteokbokki, yet you never once took me along?”
“Sorry. The timing just wasn’t right.”
I smiled awkwardly at her complaint.
In truth, it had been ages since I’d visited Inha Bunsik.
According to my mother, business had been booming lately, leaving her overwhelmed.
With the evening being the quietest time, I picked up my junior colleague Yeon-hui after work and headed out.
“Is this something that can be forgiven with an apology? You said the recipe was made by you, senior!”
“…Did you know that?”
“Of course! I thought you didn’t know anything about your junior.”
Yeon-hui spoke with bright enthusiasm.
Her expression was playful, but her eyes held a certain seriousness.
“Is this really the kind of thing that happens?”
I couldn’t help but smile.
“You don’t know, do you? How romantic it is for a man who can cook to women.”
I had heard something similar from Team Leader Jeong Soo-yeon before.
That a man who could cook was sexy.
Was it really true?
“And senior, explain yourself to me.”
“Explain?”
Yeon-hui thrust her smartphone in front of my face.
“This.”
Waiting for a signal.
I turned my head and checked the video on Yeon-hui’s phone.
An outdoor archery range.
My figure appeared, drawing a compound bow and aiming at the target.
-The Double Life of Pro Go Player Kim In-ha
Shorts: 500,000 views.
The original video had nearly reached 190,000 views.
The angle felt slightly distant, as if someone had secretly filmed from afar.
“Where did you get this?”
“Where do you think? It’s all over SNS and YouTube. The comments are going crazy right now.”
“…Going crazy?”
Yeon-hui lowered the phone to the comments section, and the best comments scrolled up.
-The wind was terrible that day, yet he hit 355 out of 360. Even the opponent was Oh Ki-jun.
-Oh Ki-jun? Isn’t he the top of the club?
-Yeah, he doesn’t even lose to unemployed players. He probably barely missed qualifying for the national team selection trials.
-Really? Then is Kim In-ha not a national team level player?
-Now he’s going to dominate archery like Go?
-Do you think Korean archery is funny lol lol lol
She was teasing me from all sides.
By now, I was used to it.
There was no need to hide it anymore, and I had grown used to the attention people gave me.
“Lately, when I look at you, I think…”
Yeon-hui continued without taking her eyes off the screen.
“You yourself… give off the feeling of becoming a brand?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, it’s a bit different from being an influencer. I can’t explain it well. Just like an entertainer or a famous sports player.”
I smiled quietly.
I could guess what she meant.
And that was
“The direction I want to go.”
Kim In-ha.
Beyond the category of a mere skilled person, creating the symbolic meaning of my three characters.
Becoming a figure with narrative, social, and commercial influence.
If I did that,
“…Money would naturally follow.”
Of course, if a talent for making money appeared, I would use it actively.
Stocks, coins, real estate investment.
But until then…
I would focus on building my own brand and multi-talent image.
That was, in short, my value.
Just before turning into the alley where Inha Bunsik was located, Yeon-hui looked out the window and said,
“Huh? There’s a Tteokmidang here too?”
“Yeah. It opened a while ago.”
“…But there don’t seem to be many customers?”
Yeon-hui casually tossed out the remark.
I quickly glanced inside Tteokmidang.
The store was empty.
It felt like there were more employees than customers.
Right now, I couldn’t judge based only on the evening hours.
But it was clear that the number of customers had noticeably decreased compared to before.
In contrast,
Inha Bunsik in the residential alley still glowed with lights.
Its signboard was shabby compared to the franchise, yet customers bustled inside.
“Good.”
The fact that the greedy landlady’s maliciously opened franchise Tteokmidang had taken a proper hit made me smile again and again.
“Senior, is it okay to go in now? There are still many customers…”
“What’s the problem?”
“We have to be careful about scandals.”
After parking, I looked at her with an incredulous expression.
“Would I? I’m not even a celebrity.”
“Is that so? Why haven’t you become more famous?”
I laughed in disbelief and entered the store.
With bright lights and a welcoming face, my mother greeted me.
“In-ha?”
My mother’s voice.
Seeing Yeon-hui enter behind me, her eyes widened.
I introduced her briefly.
“This is my university junior, Yeon-hui. We worked together at the bank.”
“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Aigoo. I’ve heard a lot about you. Come in.”
We sat at an empty table inside.
Framed photos of Go matches covered the store walls.
Near the cash register, a signboard with a Go stone in my hand had been set up.
“Wow. This place is like a senior museum.”
“…”
“A complete holy ground.”
My face heated up.
So that was why I had always deflected when asked to visit the store.
I never imagined the inside would be so filled with my photos.
At that moment, my mother brought out tteokbokki, fried items, kimbap, and fish cake soup.
“Enjoy your meal.”
“Thank you, Mother!”
Yeon-hui clasped her hands together, smiling brightly, and took a bite of the ice cream tteokbokki.
“Mmm, delicious. This is my first time trying this taste.”
Her eyes widened as she began to inhale.
She was a real tteokbokki fanatic.
While I watched her with a warm smile, customers who recognized me began to approach one by one.
“Sorry, could you sign for me?”
“Of course. Anytime.”
After the signing and photo requests continued, I returned to my seat.
Yeon-hui looked at me with a proud, admiring gaze.
“Popular guy.”
“Just eat.”
After finishing our meal, we said goodbye to my mother and left the store.
“Mother, I’ll see you next time!”
As we got into the car, Yeon-hui spoke in a lingering tone.
“Ah, I have to come again next week. I think I’ll keep thinking about it even while sleeping.”
“Anytime. By the way, you said your house was in Sadang, right?”
“Yes, that’s right. Huh? Can you drop me off?”
“I was going to give you a drive.”
I smiled and gently pressed the accelerator.
***
The city lights blurred past the car window.
While we chatted about things that had accumulated over time, we arrived at our destination.
A high-end officetel building.
I carefully slowed down and stopped in front of the entrance.
“Thank you, senior.”
Yeon-hui looked at me without opening the door.
She seemed hesitant, as if she had something to say.
“Want me to drop you off? I can give you an escort if you want.”
“It’s fine.”
Yeon-hui grabbed the handle, half-opened the door, then stopped.
“Senior.”
“Hm?”
She turned her head and looked at me gently.
“…Are you going to see the cat?”
I stared at Yeon-hui.
An odd atmosphere.
At that moment, the words that slipped out without my control.
“You don’t have a cat, do you?”
“…Caught.”
Yeon-hui stuck out her tongue and hurriedly got out of the car.
Standing outside the passenger window, she smiled with squinted eyes and waved.
“Thank you for the ride.”
“No need. Go in.”
After saying goodbye, I gripped the steering wheel again.
Just as I was about to press the accelerator, a small voice came from outside the window.
“…Idiot. It’s not that cat.”
I tilted my head, but Yeon-hui had already disappeared into the officetel.
Just a word that slipped into the evening air.
I quietly started the car.
It had been a quiet and ordinary day.
***
South Korea.
Undisputedly the world’s strongest archery nation.
But that was only true for recurve.
Compound was different.
This field, which required precise aiming and mechanical precision, had been systematized earlier in Europe and the United States.
In fact, it was common to find compound bows sold alongside firearms in American gun shops.
For that reason,
Surprisingly, the current South Korean national compound archery coach was a foreigner.
Nick Cutter.
American.
A former player who had long held the world ranking 1st position, and who had led the Dutch national team as a coach.
Soon after the Olympic compound event was officially adopted, he was scouted to South Korea.
He was that eager.
A coach who could achieve results befitting the world’s strongest archery.
Inside the national team.
On the day the list of applicants for the national team selection trials was checked.
The coach, coaches, and media team gathered to review the final documents.
“Ho-jung and Byeong-su participated as expected.”
“Both are strong candidates.”
“Apart from that, I don’t see any particularly notable names.”
“Even though it’s become an official event… they still seem reluctant to switch from recurve.”
The coaches’ voices lowered.
The pool of South Korean archery players was deep.
Qualifying for the national team selection was said to be as difficult as winning an Olympic medal.
However, compound didn’t reach that level.
Even if the number of registered players was only one-tenth of recurve.
They didn’t impose restrictions on participation even for non-players, for that reason.
At that moment,
Nick Cutter’s gaze stopped.
“Kim In-ha?”
The coach searched the tablet for the participant list.
“Here it is. No club affiliation, individual. A participant who only recently registered as a player.”
“It seems he just participated as a club member for experience.”
The tone carried a hint of disappointment.
At that moment, a media team member interjected.
“Wait a second. The face looks familiar.”
After searching, he added in surprise.
“Huh? This is Pro Go Player Kim In-ha. The guy who was in the news and appeared on variety shows. There’s a YouTube video too.”
The media team member connected a large monitor and played the YouTube video.
Perfectly aligned posture.
Calm expression.
Drawing the compound bow.
And someone shouting “X-10”.
The media team member read the comments.
“The opponent was Oh Ki-jun, and he shot 12 ends.”
“…Oh Ki-jun? That friend? One of the club’s strongest.”
“Correct. He missed the first selection trial last year.”
The coaches remembered too.
It wasn’t common to find club members who shot better than selected players.
“He hit 355 out of 360 that day. It was a very windy day.”
“Who? Oh Ki-jun?”
“…Both of them.”
“Kim In-ha too?”
The coaches were startled.
The two of them examined the video closely.
“He shoots well.”
“His posture is stable too.”
Nick Cutter said nothing.
Instead, he replayed the video repeatedly.
His gaze.
Not out of personal interest, but only pursuing results.
“…He has star quality. If he qualifies, it should be good for box office. Maybe even a sponsor might take interest.”
The media team member cautiously spoke, and everyone nodded.
But first, they had to prove their skill.
Flashy resumes and buzz were useless.
If they didn’t pass the selection, that was the end.
Originally, South Korean archery was designed with that system.
At that moment,
Nick Cutter looked away from the monitor.
After chewing over the video dozens of times, he fell into a short silence.
Then he shifted his gaze to the participant list.
“Let’s keep an eye on this one.”
After that one sentence, the meeting room fell silent.
Nick Cutter.
A cold outsider who only saw results.
It was unusual for him to point out someone in the first selection trials.
Just from one video.
The coaches exchanged glances without a word.
“…What did the coach see?”
One thing was certain.
Nick Cutter had definitely seen something they hadn’t seen yet.
Not someone else, but Pro Go Player Kim In-ha.
Even from an ordinary person, not an elite.