Episode 2: A face genius is good at soccer

Episode 2: Ace of Training Camp (1)

As I quietly opened the door and entered, I noticed the players were chatting away, so it didn't seem like I was late.

"What's this guy doing blocking the door?"

Just as I started to relax, the door opened again, and a bear-like man walked in.

It was the head coach.

"Hello, Coach!"

"Hello"

I quickly turned and bowed my head.

"Hm? Who's this?"

At the coach's question, the seniors all tilted their heads in unison, staring blankly at me.

What’s going on...? Is this some kind of hidden camera prank?

"An idol just walked in. Who are you?"

"Hello! I'm the new member, Hong Min-jun. Nice to meet you all!"

It felt too much like a hidden camera prank, so I decided to just greet them loudly.

Even though it's not as bad as it used to be, I’ve heard that some soccer teams still haze new members, so it's best to greet them loudly and confidently in situations like this.

"Okay, okay, so you're our youngest... Wait, what's your name again?"

"Huh? It's Hong Min-jun."

"Hong Min-jun? You?"

Well, who else would it be, Kim Min-jun?

As expected from an old man, he makes a boring joke, but since he’s the coach, I have to play along.

"Haha. That's right, I'm Hong Min-jun. You saw me when you came to scout me before, remember?"

"Right. I did... But did Hong Min-jun look like this?"

At first, I thought he was joking, but the atmosphere started to feel weird.

The coach looked at my face with a puzzled expression, and I started to break out in a cold sweat as he spoke with a strange look on his face.

"This is strange. I don’t remember Hong Min-jun looking like this."

"Why, what's the matter, Coach?"

The door opened again, and a middle-aged man walked in.

"Oh, Coach Kim. Just in time. You know Hong Min-jun, right? The kid with the good footwork."

"Of course. Isn't he the one you scouted?"

"They say this is him."

"......??"

"......??"

Both men looked puzzled.

"Wait a minute. What does Hong Min-jun even look like again?"

"I’m not sure... I don't really remember."

"Well... I guess it must be him. Okay! New members, come forward!"

...What the heck.

What’s going on?

Is this some kind of new form of bullying?

I was dumbfounded by the ridiculous actions of the coach and assistant coach, but there wasn’t much I could say.

I joined the other new members as we nervously introduced ourselves to the seniors, and I sang a short song as part of the initiation.

"Wow~ You're Hong Min-jun, right? Were you an idol before?"

"No."

"Not even a trainee or something?"

"...No."

"Wow... You're really good at singing."

"Thank you..."

Are they teasing me?

I’m good at singing, but my face is just average. Idol? No way.

"Alright~ Everyone, give a round of applause!"

After the routine applause ended, the coach looked around at the players and spoke.

"Starting today, our soccer team's training camp begins. Remember what I said? What is the preseason to a pro?"

"It’s the best preparation period for the season!"

"Right. Even though we're not pros, we should prepare for the preseason as if we were pros. I hope no one got lazy just because it's the off-season."

"No, Sir!!"

The loud response.

Geez, what is this, the military?

"For three weeks, we’ll train together to build stamina before the season starts and to practice our tactics. Fourth years! Remember that now that the seniors have graduated, you guys are the core of the team. As you know, if you can’t keep up with the training, I won't go easy on you, even if you're a senior!"

Another loud response echoed.

Wow, everyone’s really fired up.

"And as for our youngest members, I’m sorry to say that our recent performance hasn't been great, so we’ll be holding the training camp at the school. Don't be too disappointed. If you feel disappointed now, you'll be too drained to even handle the training."

I looked up at the coach, thinking to myself.

This feels like it’s going to be some brutal stamina training.

"Alright~ Now everyone, change into your uniforms and head to the field! Go!"

"Go!!"

Jeez... Is this the military?

The coach and assistant coach left, and the seniors all got up and led us to the locker room.

Oh man, the smell of sweat. The locker room is soaked in it.

As soon as I opened my assigned locker, I saw a mirror.

But the man in the reflection was someone I’d never seen before...

I stared blankly at the guy looking back at me for a moment.

‘...Huh?’

Is this... me?

This ridiculously good-looking guy... is me?

What the heck is going on...

"Hey, newbie! Why are you so slow? Hurry up and change!"

"Yes, yes! I'm coming!!"

What the hell is this?

* * *

While stretching, I pondered deeply and remembered a strange dream.

Could it be that status window... appeared!

‘So it was real.’

A status window, huh.

With this, being a pro... no, even winning the Ballon d'Or, which every soccer player dreams of, isn’t out of reach.

“Gather up! We’ll start off with a light practice game for the first day.”

While I was snickering at the status window, a practice game was set up.

Ha... I guess it’s already time to show off my skills.

To secure a starting position from the first year, I need to demonstrate overwhelming ability.

“Alright, I’ll call out the teams. First, the rookies! We’ve got six new members this year, let’s see... What are everyone’s positions?”

“Winger!!”

I quickly shot my hand up and answered faster than anyone else.

A man’s got to be confident!

“Good, our handsome ace, Min-jun, is on the left wing! Next, you?”

Geez.

What’s with the ‘handsome ace’?

Typical old man humor.

I forced a smile at the coach, who was chuckling to himself, while the other new members took turns answering.

“Center back!”

“Midfielder!”

And so, the six new members were assigned to their primary positions, and the remaining spots were filled by what appeared to be second-year seniors, completing the starting lineup.

“The team with the rookies will be coached by me directly. Assistant! You take care of the other side.”

“Understood, Coach.”

“At the head coach’s words, the man who seemed to be the assistant coach, led the 3rd and 4th-year seniors to the other side.”

“Alright. We’re going with a 4-3-3 formation. You’re familiar with it, right? It’s a popular formation in middle and high school leagues these days, so you should all be used to it. If anyone’s not sure, raise your hand.”

Of course, no one raised their hand.

These days, 4-3-3 is more commonly used than the traditional 4-4-2, so we were all familiar with it, and besides, it would be embarrassing to admit not knowing it.

“You should get used to it quickly. Our team’s default is also 4-3-3. Or, you know, if you show overwhelming skill, you might even force us to change the formation.”

The coach flashed a grin that didn’t quite match the sharp look he gave us as he scanned the team.

“Alright, now onto the detailed tactics.”

I had to listen carefully to this.

Even with the same 4-3-3, how you execute it makes a big difference.

I’m not particularly confident in tactical movements... but I’ll try to understand as much as I can.

“Run well.”

“...Sorry?”

“I said, run hard.”

“Uh... Coach, how should the midfielders move? Should they move vertically, or horizontally...”

“Just figure it out and do it well.”

“......”

The second-year students seemed to be taking it in stride, which made it clear they knew what was going on.

I exchanged glances with my fellow first-years. Being players who had made it this far, they all seemed to get what was happening.

Tsk.

Looks like this is a test.

The coach was just giving us a rough setup and letting us play freely to assess our movements and strengths.

Alright. This could work in my favor.

I’ve never been a player with strong tactical awareness.

I’m better suited to this free-role type of play.

This is the perfect chance to show off my skills.

...Even though I didn’t do so well in the high school league, I can make up for that slump with my status window now.

We huddled up for a cheer and took our positions. One of the coaches took on the role of referee and blew the whistle.

And as soon as the game started, the senior team made up of third and fourth years, who had been smiling slyly, suddenly pushed forward aggressively.

Their team also had the same 4-3-3 formation as ours.

The three forwards dashed in like lightning at the sound of the whistle, and the opposing midfielder, who received the ball, immediately launched a long pass.

‘That’s never going to work... Or is it!?’

Our center-backs consisted of one first-year and one second-year senior.

Even our defensive midfielder was a rookie, so despite the sudden but not particularly threatening play by the opponents, our defense was completely torn apart.

“What the hell! Center-backs, what are you doing! One of you should mark, the other should back up!!”

The shout from the only third-year, the goalkeeper, was already too late.

Because the two center-backs who leapt high to intercept the ball that was lofted in the air ended up crashing down together.

“One goal for us~”

‘Are you kidding me... Is this what they call teamwork?’

Even if this was our first time playing together, aren’t we supposed to be elite soccer players?

'As a center-back, the basic rule is to move based on the calls from veterans or the goalkeeper. Even if there’s no call, when one player charges in, the other should back them up—that's the most fundamental rule. But what kind of amateur play was that?'

My insides were boiling with anger.

I, too, am an elite soccer player.

Although I didn’t make it to Europe or the K-League, I fought through countless competitions from elementary to middle and high school and made it to the college league.

Naturally, I have some talent, and above all... I have a strong desire to win.

‘Damn it. I didn’t expect us to beat the third and fourth-year starters with just first-years and second-year backup players, but we can’t lose like idiots.’

The game resumed.

Because we conceded a goal, our forward casually passed the ball to me right after the whistle.

The feel of the ball as I touched it for the first time today wasn’t bad.

That familiar sensation beyond my cleats.

‘I’m in good condition.’

But I’m not some kind of Pelé or Maradona, so there’s no way I can just dribble recklessly from the center line. I lightly passed the ball backward.

The ball moved back and forth between the defenders, midfielders, and back to the defenders.

Even though we conceded a goal, the game had just started, so now is the time for everyone to touch the ball and get into rhythm. We need to maximize the number of touches our team gets.

We calmly built up from the defense to the midfield and, if no good angles emerged, passed the ball back to the defense.

Suddenly, the coach, who had been watching, shouted out.

“What are you doing! Are you just going to keep passing the ball around after conceding? Be more aggressive, more aggressive!!”

‘Fine, screw it. Let’s just go for it.’

Even though I was furious, I’m not so simple-minded as to just rush in recklessly—I’ve had plenty of game experience. But considering the opponent’s defense, which seemed to have let its guard down after scoring first, and that this was a test game where I needed to showcase my strengths, and since we couldn't compete with established starters in terms of teamwork, it was time to make a play based on individual skill—this is where a “crack” player needs to shine.

And that’s exactly the role I need to play.

During my middle school years and the early part of high school, I always played the role of the “crack.”

Even though I’ve been underperforming lately, my individual skills, which were once praised as being professional-level, should still be effective...!

“Pass!”

I had to drop back a bit to shake off the pesky opposing winger marking me, but I managed to receive the ball without any issues.

As I turned my body naturally while receiving the ball, the wide-open field filled my view.

Roughly around the center line.

It wasn’t exactly a counterattack opportunity, so the opponent’s formation was well-organized.

Attempting a solo dribble from here might be too much, but... considering they’re off guard, I’m confident I can take on at least one or two players. Let’s go for it.

Tap, tap. I slowly advanced with the ball, and the opposing winger marking me approached as if he’d been waiting.

We faced off briefly with a bit of distance between us.

‘Sure, as a college league player, he won’t be easy to beat, but... I have my status window...’

Wait, hold on a second.

What stats did I assign again?

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