Episode 1
* * *
The best in the world.
Is there any player who doesn’t dream of this glorious title?
Whether old or young.
No matter what stage they play on.
Everyone runs toward the top.
And in football, there exists a great award that certifies it.
“Let’s go, Hakyeong.”
The Ballon d’Or.
Today, I intend to make this award mine.
To prove that I am the best in the world.
“Huu….”
As I got in the car, the pungent smell of leather brushed my nose. I’d smelled it every time, but today I had no energy to spare for such things.
Seeing my unusual demeanor, my manager opened his mouth.
“So you are human after all. I get to see the great Ji Hakyeong nervous.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must be seeing things.”
“Wipe your sweat first. Your makeup is going to smudge.”
The manager started rummaging through his inner pocket. He must be trying to pull out a handkerchief. As I waited quietly, a low voice reached my ears.
“…You’ll win it this year, right?”
The handkerchief in the manager’s hand was trembling.
Pretending not to be, but this guy must be nervous too.
I raised the corners of my mouth and asked back.
“Who else is there besides me?”
“You and Mbappé have the same goal record, don’t you? And Haaland can’t be ignored either.”
“The goal records are the same. But I achieved the Treble.”
“That may be true, but…”
The manager’s words trailed off.
A tone filled with worry.
Hmm.
Well, I suppose he had reason to be.
The Ballon d’Or had been far too harsh an award to me.
But….
“This year is different. If FIFA has any sense, they won’t create a situation like last year.”
“…….”
“So don’t worry. This time, it’s definitely me.”
After finishing speaking, I leaned deep into the seat.
In a few hours, it would all be decided.
I didn’t want to care about it anymore.
Perhaps the manager understood my intention, for he didn’t speak again.
In the quietened car.
I sat still and recalled this time last year.
[In 2027, the winner of the Ballon d’Or is… Erling Haaland. Congratulations.]
‘…Those damned bastards.’
With the era of Messi and Ronaldo setting, world football entered a Warring States period.
Competitors who had been hidden by the two absolutes began to reveal themselves.
Among the countless fake heroes that appeared, two individuals stood out.
Erling Haaland of Manchester City.
Kylian Mbappé of Real Madrid.
The popularity of these two heroes was immense.
People called them the second Messi and Ronaldo, and once again a rivalry for the ages was constructed.
World football began restructuring around these two.
This trend continued until the year before last.
People were excited by the re-enacted rivalry structure, and world football rejoiced at the reproduced success.
Everything flowed successfully, but a variable that no one welcomed occurred.
Someone appeared who threw cold water on the rivalry structure.
That’s right.
That was me.
An Asian striker from a football backwater that no one paid attention to.
I had appeared.
With the giant ship FC Barcelona at my back.
But the restructured world of football did not welcome me.
I was nothing more than a nuisance obstructing the box-office guarantee of “the second Messi and Ronaldo.”
The year before last, when I shattered the La Liga scoring record with 51 goals.
Last year, when I conquered both the Champions League and the league.
I wasn’t the protagonist.
I had merely remained among the final three Ballon d’Or candidates.
Because I was a nuisance.
But this year was different.
I had the undeniable record of the Treble.
No matter how harsh FIFA was to me, they couldn’t exclude me this time.
“Right. This year is different.”
I muttered quietly and clenched my fist.
Thick veins running across the back of my hand.
And forearms that looked like they would burst.
They were proof of effort.
They were my own assets that would never betray me.
It was time to receive compensation for the hardships I had endured.
Thinking so, I quietly closed my eyes.
For the fanfare that would ring out for me in a few hours.
.
.
.
Truthfully, this was as far as I clearly remembered.
* * *
[Today marks two weeks since world-class football star Ji Hakyeong passed away from a heart attack. Not only in our country, but worldwide the procession of mourning continues unabated. That news…….]
A vague, joke-like voice was heard.
From the intonation, it seemed like an announcer.
I knew my manager was serious about his pranks, but I didn’t know he was this passionate.
To think he’d mobilize an announcer to record such malicious words.
‘Still, saying a perfectly healthy guy just dropped dead is a bit much.’
Thinking I should say something, I forced my eyes open.
And then….
“Huh? Doctor! The patient is awake!”
…Patient?
Tilting my head and turning my gaze, an IV was stuck in my forearm.
The clothing covering my arm was not the suit I had been wearing.
White fabric with light blue polka dots.
Wasn’t this unmistakably a hospital gown?
‘What on earth is going on…?’
I tried to speak, but no sound came out.
My head was spinning, and my whole body was heavy.
Just this was overwhelming enough to understand the situation, but I couldn’t even see my manager who should have been stuck to me all day.
‘This is driving me crazy. Why am I here? What happened to the ceremony?’
Countless questions arose, but there was nothing I could answer.
What could I do in a situation where I couldn’t speak or move?
After killing some time, a doctor entered the hospital room.
“Patient, are you conscious?”
“Eh…….”
“You still won’t be able to speak well. The anesthetic components should still be in your system.”
Anesthesia?
What reason would I, the healthiest person in the world, have to be anesthetized….
“Fortunately, the contaminants you ingested could be removed via gastric lavage, but if the same thing happens again, it will truly become dangerous.”
“Da… nger… ous? What do you… mean by that…….”
“Your family will be here soon, so please rest.”
With those words, the doctor left.
Rather than being resolved, my curiosity only grew.
What was gastric lavage, and what did he mean by family?
The latter was even more incomprehensible.
‘Family coming to see me?’
That was bullshit.
I had no family.
From the time my memories began until now, there had been no one I could call family.
Wasn’t “orphanage-born striker” the title that defined me?
But suddenly, family?
‘They must be after my money.’
It was a common occurrence.
Hyenas rushing at me claiming to be my father, mother, or older brother.
They were all scammers after my money.
This time would be no different.
I clenched my fist and waited for them.
No, I tried to wait.
Until pain shot through the forearm of my clenched fist.
‘Come to think of it, I had an IV in….’
Worried the needle might have come out, I looked again.
On the smooth forearm without a single visible vein, there was no problem at all.
Hmm, good.
…….
…….
Wait.
Without a single visible vein?
I creakily turned my head and moved my gaze once more.
‘……What is this?’
This wasn’t my arm.
Where had my copper-toned forearm full of thick veins gone, leaving only this flabby flesh?
It was an accident.
Something was definitely wrong.
‘I have to check.’
I got up from the bed with difficulty.
My head was spinning and blood was seeping from the arm where I’d pulled out the IV, but it didn’t matter.
That really didn’t matter at all.
Dragging my trembling legs, I looked at the mirror in the corner….
“What the hell is this….”
Some soft, pale man stood there feebly.
“Ha… haha….”
On the day I lost everything.
I achieved the dream I had longed for my entire life.
[The winner of the 2028 Ballon d’Or, which had been postponed due to the death of finalist Ji Hakyeong, has been announced.]
[The winner is the late professional footballer Ji Hakyeong, who died of a heart attack.]
[We offer our sincere congratulations and wish the departed may rest in peace.]
The joke-like words ringing in my ears.
It was truly a dogshit life.