March 2027.
A major incident occurred in the soccer team at Haewoon Middle School in Gongju, Chungcheongnam-do.
[Soccer Team Assault Incident! Player Attacks Coach!]
[Coach Goo from Haewoon Middle School in Gongju, Chungnam, reported to be hospitalized.]
[Soccer Association: "Details are under investigation."]
[Haewoon Middle School: "Player Yoo acted independently due to personal conflicts with Coach Goo."]
[Soccer team members: "The player was always aggressive."]
[Why did the player attack the coach?]
– Where even is Haewoon Middle School?
– Coach assault, LOL. That player's career is over now!
– There hasn't been any hazing for the past 10 years; why attack the coach? Anger management issues?
– Who's this Yoo guy? Anyone know him? Comment, please.
The news of a player assaulting a coach spread widely, captivating public attention.
False, fabricated stories overshadowed the truth. The truth was less important than the entertainment value these stories provided.
The reality that the boy was defending someone who was being wronged, and the fact that the association covered it up by framing the boy instead, didn't matter to the masses.
No one listened to the truth… and thus, the boy was unjustly punished.
[Penalty]
[Yoo Jiwoo, second-year student of Haewoon Middle School, is suspended from competing for one year.]
The promising talent fell into despair.
Or did he?
"Who gave you the right?"
Grinding his teeth, he was preparing to soar again.
__________________
March 2028.
Future Cup.
A soccer tournament jointly organized by Mirae Corporation, one of Korea's top three companies, and the Soccer Association. Only players under 17 affiliated with academies, not school teams, could participate.
Numerous football academies across the country fiercely competed for a week, leaving only two clubs in the finals: Chungbuk Football Club vs. Busan Football Club.
The Future Cup finals were held at Incheon Sports Complex.
First Half:
[Chungbuk Football Club 0 – 2 Busan Football Club]
Busan Football Club maintained their lead, all but guaranteeing their victory.
"As expected."
People glanced around at the empty stands, sighing.
"The quality hasn't improved over the years. No wonder the stands are empty."
Players trained at academies weren't on par with those on the elite track.
To become a professional, even players from prestigious elementary, middle, and high schools struggled. So the level of players who had fallen off the elite path and joined academies was predictably mediocre.
Even though they ran and fought desperately to keep their professional dreams alive, experts remained unimpressed.
"I heard the association is planning to discontinue this tournament after this year."
"Really?"
"Initially, people came out of curiosity because of the Mirae Corporation brand, but now the financial losses outweigh the investment."
The Future Cup had been held for eight years, but attendance dwindled each year.
"Look, it's the finals, and the players aren't even special. The Busan captain looks decent defensively, but his slow pace is a huge drawback."
Academy players lacked the uniqueness to capture attention.
"So why are you even here?"
"Our club sends scouts here every year. It's my turn this time, so I had no choice."
Second Half:
40th Minute:
The score gap remained unchanged.
"Yawn…"
A foreigner sitting in the stands let out a massive yawn.
A Korean man observing him spoke.
"None of the players stand out, right?"
The man replied in Spanish, not Korean.
"They're all average. Makes me wonder why I even came."
"I told you this tournament wasn't worth it. You just arrived for the Boca Juniors event today; you should've stayed at the hotel to rest."
The foreigner was Rodrigo, the head of Boca Juniors' Asian scouting team. The Korean man beside him was his interpreter, Yoon Mutae.
"But it would've felt wrong to skip it. What if a gem like Javier suddenly appeared?"
Javier Casero.
The current captain of Boca Juniors, whom Rodrigo discovered at a local soccer game.
"Who could stop your stubbornness?"
Even though most scouts didn't care about this tournament, Rodrigo was different.
Having once unearthed a diamond in the rough, he made it a habit to personally attend finals of even the smallest tournaments.
However, as time passed, the spark in his eyes dimmed.
"Boring."
Speed and technique… The players on the field were average, even compared to their peers.
"…A waste of time."
Shortly after, Yoon Mutae noticed something and spoke to Rodrigo, who was on the verge of giving up.
"Oh! The losing side is using a substitution card."
"At this point in the game?"
Only five minutes remained.
'If it were a hidden weapon, they should've introduced it earlier. Turning the game around now is almost impossible.'
Even with additional injury time, it was unlikely they'd overcome the defensive stance of Busan Football Club with a two-goal lead.
"Wait… that kid."
Someone recognized the player being substituted.
It was Park Woo-geun, a legendary figure in Korean soccer.
Known for putting Korea on the global stage when it was a football backwater, he had made his mark in Italy during a time of rampant racism. He was the only Korean to leave a legacy during the Seven Sisters era.
"Senior! Isn't that… that kid?"
"You remember him?"
"Of course! The incident was so big back then that his face was all over the internet."
"After being expelled from his school's team, I heard he joined an academy. So he's here now."
Park Woo-geun vividly remembered Yoo Jiwoo, not just because of the scandal but because he had been named MVP of a domestic youth tournament in 2025 and won the Youth Soccer Award.
"Vice President, do you recognize that kid?"
The vice president of the association, Cha Sung-in, followed Park Woo-geun's gaze to Yoo Jiwoo, who was preparing to enter the field.
"No idea. Who is he?"
"…The player who hit Coach Goo last year."
Cha Sung-in, who had been conversing with others, looked at the player standing by the line.
It was a considerable distance away.
When the player's face appeared on the scoreboard, he chuckled.
"Oh, that arrogant brat?"
He hadn't forgotten.
A year ago, the boy had stormed into the association, loudly protesting the unfairness of his suspension.
"He hasn't quit soccer yet? Most kids on the elite track give up when they're expelled and face a gap year."
Cha Sung-in smirked as he watched Yoo Jiwoo.
Next to him, Park Woo-geun sighed internally.
'A child with such dazzling talent… How did things end up like this?'
He glanced at Yoo Jiwoo, readying himself on the field.
'A year's gap.'
Sigh.
'I guess we'll never see that brilliance again.'
For a soccer player, youth development was paramount. Losing a year at such a crucial stage meant inevitable skill decline.
Regret.
And at the same time, with a faint sense of hope, he watched the player stepping onto the field.
'May what I saw still remain.'
At the same time, on the bench of Chungbuk Football Club, a player finished preparing to step onto the field.
A small frame, seemingly under 170 cm.
Player number 20—Yoo Ji-woo.
"Ji-woo."
Coach Lee Chae-woon, wearing a cap with the Chungbuk Football Club emblem, spoke to him.
"Do you know why I brought you into the club despite all the opposition?"
When Yoo Ji-woo first tried to join the football club, most of the staff were against it.
"That kid? He has too many problems."
"Bringing in a player like that could backfire on us."
The rumors about him weren't good.
But Coach Lee Chae-woon had stubbornly insisted, finally allowing Yoo Ji-woo to join. Today marked the end of his one-year suspension.
"Because of my dad?"
"That guy called me nonstop, asking when your suspension would be lifted. It's not like I'm the one who suspended you."
"He probably marked the date on his calendar but kept calling just to bother you."
"What?! Seriously?"
"Yep."
"Ugh, I'm about to hear his voice in my head as hallucinations!"
Coach Lee Chae-woon and Yoo Ji-woo's father, Yoo Han-woo, had been friends since middle school.
"Ahem, let's set jokes aside. Do you know why I really brought you here?"
"Not exactly. Did my dad bribe you or something?"
"Hey, kid! Do I look like someone who'd do that?"
"I was just joking. It's fun watching you get flustered, Coach."
After the incident a year ago, Yoo Ji-woo found it hard to trust adults. But Coach Lee Chae-woon was different—he'd been around since Ji-woo was a child and was one of his father's closest friends.
"I brought you in because it pained me to see you sacrificed in the association's factional games."
There was genuine sincerity in his words.
"Go out there and make up for all the time you couldn't play."
"With only 5 minutes left?"
"Five minutes is more than enough for you, isn't it?"
"Well, after a year, I'll take what I can get."
Beep!
The whistle blew as the ball rolled out of bounds, signaling a substitution.
"Huff."
A player, out of breath, ran off the field. He was a senior, a year older than Yoo Ji-woo.
"It's all on you now."
As their hands brushed during the substitution, Yoo Ji-woo smirked and turned to Coach Lee Chae-woon.
"Coach, I'll get you the championship trophy as a gift."
Coach Lee Chae-woon looked surprised but laughed as he watched Yoo Ji-woo's back disappear onto the field.
'If it weren't for that incident, this kid would've gone overseas by now.'
Finally stepping onto the pitch, Yoo Ji-woo felt something strange.
Thump.
Thump.
The steady beat of his heart.
The scent of grass filling his nostrils.
His skin tingled as a thrilling sensation coursed through his body.
The field he had been away from for an entire year.
'I forgot how alive the field feels.'
One by one, the senses he had forgotten began to awaken.