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Chapter 3 - Chapter: 3

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Translator: uly

Chapter: 3

Chapter Title: Messed-Up Life (2)

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Second half, 10th minute.

Splash-!

The net rippled.

"Yessssss!"

Coach Jo Sung-jun, who had been watching the match with a tense expression, jumped up in joy.

The one who scored was Park Chong-ah, subbed in at the first minute of the second half.

"M-My God...!"

Chong-ah stared in stunned disbelief, having scored her debut goal in her debut match against Gimhae, the strongest team in K-3 League.

It only sank in when her teammates rushed over and enveloped her in a group hug.

"I-I scored a goal...!"

The goal had come in an instant.

Park Chong-ah had simply followed Jeong-woo's instructions.

When a teammate intercepted the ball on the defensive line, she bolted forward.

Just as she crossed the halfway line, the ball lobbed over her head and dropped right at her feet.

By the time she looked straight ahead, she was already one-on-one with the goalkeeper.

From there, Chong-ah slotted it low into the near corner with her left foot for a simple goal.

Everything had unfolded exactly as Jeong-woo predicted.

"Good!"

Jeong-woo raised a thumbs-up to Chong-ah, who grinned at him like an excited puppy.

But they couldn't relax yet.

"Prepare one more substitution card."

"Anoth-substitution...?"

The coach, mid-celebration, widened his eyes in surprise.

"N-No, who should we bring on?"

After taking the lead against Gimhae and tasting victory, he'd already tossed aside his pride.

Now he was asking outright.

*Switch in attitude—brilliant.*

"Better to pull the striker up top and bring in Kim Ho-sik, right?"

"Y-Yeah? That's what I thought too."

Like hell he did...

Kim Ho-sik was one of the first-team bench players.

A forward who'd been overlooked time and again due to poor ball control.

But like Park Chong-ah, he had quick feet.

Jeong-woo scanned the pitch with the sharp gaze of a bird of prey and continued.

"We need to tweak the formation too. Switch from 3-4-2-1 to 3-5-2.

Gimhae's obviously going to throw on more attackers since we've ceded possession to a weaker team."

*They'll drop a central midfielder or cut back on defenders.*

Even trailing, Gimhae had maintained 70% possession throughout.

Their coach would surely think thinning the center was no big deal.

Jeong-woo planned to exploit that.

*With weaker central pressure, counterattacks will be that much easier.*

Set Park Chong-ah and Kim Ho-sik as a two-pronged attack, counter their fire with speed breakthroughs.

It played out exactly as expected.

"They're pulling a central midfielder for a striker."

The coach muttered anxiously.

Just as he said, Gimhae's midfield numbers dwindled by one.

They were bulking up front, desperate for an equalizer, then a winner.

Jeong-woo's lips curled into a sly grin.

*Self-inflicted wound, you bastards.*

Second half, 27th minute.

Jinju CF pulled off another heroic block on the defensive line.

Thwack-!

A lofted pass followed immediately. The soaring ball zipped past Gimhae's last defender in a flash...!

Bang-!

Splash-!

The stadium announcer shouted with uncontainable glee.

[Goooaaoaoaooal! Jinjuuuu! The mercenary tactics hit perfectly!]

[Subbed-on Kim Ho-sik snatches the goal with a one-touch shot!]

[Score 2-0! Jinju pulling off a miracle at home against Gimhae!]

* * *

Beep, beep, beeeeep-!

The final whistle blew.

Score: 2-0.

A hard-fought victory.

Jeong-woo wore a proud expression.

But it quickly soured into a bitter smile.

The coach walked right past him without so much as a glance.

He shook hands with Kim Seok-tae, who'd contributed nothing.

And the other coaches too.

*Son of a bitch.*

Same old story—use and discard.

Still..., with today's win, at least he'd pocket some victory bonus. He'd let it slide.

* * *

Days passed.

To celebrate escaping relegation, Hee-won showed up with more delicious meat.

Six portions of pork belly and premium cuts vanished in no time.

Jeong-woo patted his temporarily bloated belly with one hand, a satisfied smile on his face.

That's when it happened.

"Heard about Jun-hong?"

Hee-won, chugging a soda instead of soju, spoke up.

Jeong-woo picked at food stuck between his teeth with a toothpick and asked.

"What?"

"Jun-hong only got half his salary last month, some bullshit reason."

The three of them had grown up together, sharing joys and hardships.

Now, Jun-hong worked front office for Jeong-woo's club.

Jeong-woo downed his remaining soju and grimaced.

"Fucking rich bastards are the worst."

Unlike top-tier leagues, many K-3 clubs were financially shaky.

City-run teams were the exception, but corporate-owned ones like Jeong-woo's? Total crapshoot.

If the parent company's finances tanked, club investment dried up.

When it got really bad, they'd slash player or staff salaries.

Docking months of pay for absurd reasons.

"What was the docking excuse?"

"Parental leave. He filed the paperwork, took the time off, but they claim no record. The guy who took the form acts clueless. So he gets called back after two weeks, and poof—half his pay gone."

"Fucking thieves."

Probably an accounting fuckup.

"You know Jun-hong's too meek to make a fuss."

"Shove their fat heads up their asses and it still wouldn't be enough...!"

Jeong-woo's eyes bulged with rage at his buddy's raw deal, curses flying.

Then he wrinkled his nose.

"Wait..., is that why he didn't buy me meat?"

Hee-won stared at him in disbelief, frowning.

"This asshole's more worried about meat when his friend got screwed?"

Jeong-woo ignored him.

Instead, he snatched his phone.

Come to think of it, today was payday.

"Right, settlement day."

He immediately checked his account via mobile banking.

Hee-won wagged his upper body back and forth in his slouched seat, rambling on.

"Jeong-woo, you listening? Huh? Clean your ears, dude. You'll get sick. Fine, whatever. Talking to myself. That's life, right."

Even Hee-won's signature mosquito-buzz voice didn't faze Jeong-woo.

Three seconds later.

Jeong-woo's brow furrowed deeper than ever.

"Fuck."

His face flushed beet red.

He refreshed the account over and over...,

"Only 500,000 won?"

* * *

They polished off the remaining meat first.

Then Jeong-woo punched the calculator repeatedly, though he didn't need to.

Four matches a month. Last month: 1 win, 3 losses.

That one win? The cup match victory he'd orchestrated, not the coach.

Victory bonus: 400,000 won.

Analysis fee per match: 100,000 won.

Match allowance per match: 100,000 won.

Total due: 1.2 million won.

Conclusion reached.

Jeong-woo bellowed, looking ready to smash everything in sight.

"I-I'll smash your skulls into the asphalt! You dare withhold my money?!"

He stormed out.

Hee-won didn't even try to stop him.

Knew it'd be pointless.

He just gazed at the cold grill and whispered.

"Shit's about to hit the fan. Shit's hitting."

Then he grimaced.

"Fuck, do I have to do dishes again?"

* * *

Two years since Jeong-woo started at Jinju CF.

Never once had his pay been shorted.

Word in K-3 circles was he turned into a wild horse if payments were late or off.

And now,

Thud, thud, thud!

"No, sir, you can't go that way!"

At the club office, Jeong-woo ignored the secretary's protests and marched toward the owner's office.

"Hey, sir? Didn't you hear me?"

"..."

He brushed off her complaints, walking silently.

Even when she grabbed his shoulder, he shook her off with his arm.

Rage boiled inside.

*Dare eat my money?*

He'd been pissed since hearing about his friend's treatment.

Tried calling multiple times on the way.

But front office responses?

*'As you know, the club's in rough shape...'*

*'We cut bonuses 40% for some staff and front office. Others were notified and agreed..., must've been an oversight.'*

*'Sorry for not informing you ahead...'*

*'Unpaid amounts will be settled once finances improve...'*

*'Don't know the details...'*

The more he thought, the redder his face got.

"Then who the fuck knows if management doesn't?!"

"Eek, you scared me!"

"Useless winning against Gimhae when treatment's shit!"

"Oh my god!"

The secretary, trailing sleepily, yelped and stumbled at the sudden outburst.

Finally at the owner's door, Jeong-woo flung it open without hesitation.

Bang!

And there they were.

Sizzle-!

The sports foundation chairman he'd glimpsed before, the city council chair, the club owner.

The three of them lounging on the guest sofa, grilling premium beef.

Jeong-woo nearly lost it but clung to reason.

Then, as politely as he could, he asked.

Why his bonus was cut.

But the answer wasn't what he wanted.

"That pittance worth barging in here making a scene?"

"No, Owner. Why keep a thug like that around?"

"Oh, that's Jeong-woo? Famous hothead in the biz. Gambler too, right? Safe to keep him, Owner?"

The owner and his guests treated him like vermin.

Snap.

Something ominous cracked inside Jeong-woo.

Thud, thud.

"What?"

As Jeong-woo approached the electric grill, the owner looked up, displeased.

Instead of answering, Jeong-woo reached out and snagged a piece of beef, dipping it in sauce.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

Jeong-woo savored the bite quietly, then exhaled deeply.

Delicious.

Insanely so...!

He'd guessed top-grade hanwoo from the marbling.

And tasting it...,

*Real top-grade.*

Yet no money for grunts...?

Reason flew out the window.

Too damn good—his anger wouldn't subside.

"I asked what you're doing here...!"

"Fuck thiiiis!"

Jeong-woo bellowed, cutting off the owner's words like the ceiling was collapsing.

"Zip your fucking mouths! No money, my ass!"

"Wh-what the...!"

Everyone recoiled in shock.

The balding middle-aged guy, sprawled on the sofa moments ago, now pressed against the wall.

Jeong-woo grabbed another piece bare-handed and roared again.

"Prime cut! Huh? Clearly top-grade, but no fucking money?!"

No holds barred, Jeong-woo strode to the trophy case.

The owner's face drained of color.

"What are you doing, Jeong-woo!"

"Jeong-woo? Jeong-roast?"

"N-No, Mr. Jeong-woo?"

"I'll stomp the winner's cup?! Huh?!"

Enraged, Jeong-woo shook the case back and forth.

The club's lone championship trophy rattled.

"Jeong-woo! Jeong-woo! Stop and talk!"

The owner finally realized Jeong-woo was unhinged, reaching out to restrain him.

But Jeong-woo wouldn't calm.

"Fucking bastards!"

Right then.

"Um, Mr. Ma Jeong-woo?"

"What!"

Jeong-woo whipped his head toward the voice, eyes blazing.

His pupils trembled faintly.

Two men he'd seen days ago through the peephole stood there solidly by the door.

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