Chapter 5

Lazy Genius Striker - Chapter 5 (5/202)

< Chapter 4 – Tryout >

"Can I get a vest, please? I'm a bit late."

"You're way too late."

"Please, just this once."

"Ha."

The coach rolled his eyes at the unexpected participant.

Everyone else had arrived early to warm up before the test, but this one wanted to take the test only now.

The coach's irritation flared at the audacity.

"Go get a vest from the basket and line up."

"Thank you."

But the coach, annoyed by the argumentative look on the participant's face, reluctantly pointed to the basket of vests.

'What's the point, anyway... Why bother...'

Although he had given permission, the coach couldn't hide his irritation.

This test had been unproductive so far.

There were no standout participants, and everyone fell short of the standards.

It would be a miracle if even one or two were selected.

To make matters worse, there were too many participants, and time was running out.

So,

the coach couldn't possibly view the last participant, who was already late, in a good light.

But.

"Take your place at the starting line. Get ready."

When the last participant began the physical test.

"Beep!"

The coach's irritated expression suddenly changed.

It had to change.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

'...Oh?'

The lightning-fast reaction time as he shot out at the sound of the whistle.

The immediate acceleration as he picked up speed right from the start.

And the agility with which he tapped the flags and turned quickly, despite his large build.

'...Not bad?'

The coach, who had been exhausted by the mediocre participants, couldn't help but exclaim in admiration as he watched the participant swiftly complete the course.

It was a sprint that could have made the coach's eyes light up.

The coach then took a closer look at the participant.

'He's naturally gifted, it seems?'

At first glance, he just looked tall,

but on closer inspection, he had a naturally well-built physique.

He was around 180 cm tall with long limbs.

His body was well-built, possibly from intense training, and his ankles were slender, indicating good athletic ability.

His running form alone confirmed that he was naturally gifted.

"Beep! That's it!"

When the participant finished the required number of laps, the coach checked the timer and was surprised again.

'With this record...'

It was an impressive record.

The average record for the 10-meter shuttle run was around 8 seconds.

A time in the late 7-second range was already considered very fast, indicating natural speed and agility.

However,

the last participant's record was 7.52 seconds.

It was the best record so far, and by a significant margin.

A monster had appeared at the end of the test.

"Beep!"

The next physical test.

He burst forward explosively, changed direction left and right, and smoothly navigated the flags placed around the field.

This session tested balance and reaction time.

Spectators had gathered around.

The candidates who had already completed the test and even the coaches were watching.

And they all had the same expression.

Their mouths were wide open.

"He's better than our kids."

"Isn't he?"

The sessions prepared for the test were mostly the same as the training exercises the academy players did.

So, comparisons were inevitable.

Between the existing academy players and the participants.

So far, no participant had been better than the existing players.

That was to be expected.

Unaffiliated amateur trainees taking the tryout were unlikely to be better than academy players who trained like professionals.

But,

the last participant showed a different level.

He was better than the existing players.

Or, to be more honest, he was far superior.

In terms of natural physical ability.

"Okay! Good job! Now, move on to the next one!"

"Huh, yes."

The coach, who had been full of irritation just a moment ago, had completely changed his attitude.

From wondering why he was so late,

to wondering why he hadn't come earlier.

Anyway, after passing the physical test in no time,

the last participant, Johan, stood in line for the next session, the dribbling test.

Johan spat on the ground.

'Fucking bastards...'

Earlier.

When he thought about the guys who had been talking nonsense behind his back, the curses came out again.

It was already heartbreaking that his brother had been eliminated due to bad luck, and now they were adding insult to injury.

What? His brother was a disgrace to the family?

The family wasn't that great to begin with?

What did they know to say that?

'Fucking bastards.'

Even Johan couldn't stay quiet.

But he couldn't beat them up with his dad right there.

In the end, the only way was to prove himself.

To show that his family,

wasn't something to be looked down upon by those bastards.

"Alright. Take your place at the starting line. Let me know when you're ready."

The dribbling test followed the physical test.

Standing at the starting line of the course where his brother had been eliminated.

"..."

Johan glanced at the stands.

He saw the guys who had been talking about his brother's failure still watching.

Bastards.

Watch closely.

"I'm ready."

"Okay. Ready, beep!"

Johan, filled with anger, started off with the ball, moving fiercely.

*

When Rohan had tasted the bitter pill of his sixth elimination, his expression was desperate.

With his dad and brother cheering him on, he couldn't face them,

and he returned to the stands with his head hung low.

But when he heard from his dad that his brother had gone onto the field.

"Really? Is that true?"

"Yeah, look over there."

Rohan couldn't believe it.

His brother, who had said he would never play soccer again?

"Awesome, my brother!"

As Johan began to ace the tests one by one,

Rohan felt a thrilling sensation.

It was incredibly thrilling and incredibly joyful.

If his brother had joined the test out of anger at being eliminated, he thought it was better that he had been eliminated.

Rohan had always hoped, as much as his dad, that Johan would return to soccer, and he knew that Johan could meet everyone's expectations, unlike himself.

So, he seemed to have forgotten the desperate feeling of being eliminated just a few minutes ago, and he began to cheer for his brother loudly.

"Right!"

Banseokho was no different.

Stimulated by the chatter of the immature kids behind him,

Johan, who had been stubborn, finally stepped onto the field.

Was this the sight he had been hoping for for years?

He had tried so hard, scolding and persuading Johan to get him to play soccer, but had failed.

Now, to see him step onto the field on his own.

It felt like a dream, and he was even grateful to the kids who had spouted insults.

"Nice!"

"Wow, he's really fast!"

Johan, who had aced the physical test, was quickly passing the dribbling, passing, and kicking tests.

The coaches in charge of the tests were passing him without even watching to the end.

It was understandable.

His natural talent was evident at first glance.

Banseokho, seeing the coaches, who had been expressionless, now showing amazement, felt an indescribable thrill.

"How can he do that? It's been two years since he last kicked a ball."

Rohan said in amazement.

It was indeed amazing.

Johan had quit soccer two years ago.

Even if muscle memory lasts a long time, anyone's skills would decline after a two-year break.

Professional players who have played soccer all their lives would take a long time to regain their original skills after a two-year break.

However,

Johan was showing skills that made it hard to believe he had a two-year break.

Especially at his age, a crucial period where every game can significantly improve his skills.

Seeing him play so well, it was no wonder it was amazing.

But Banseokho knew the reason.

'He's not learned, he's naturally gifted...'

It wasn't something he had learned and practiced; it was something he was born with.

Simply,

he was born with an innate understanding of soccer, and he couldn't forget it even if he tried.

In short, Johan was born with the destiny to become a soccer player.

"Wow... Who is that black-haired guy?"

"I've never seen him before. Was there such a kid?"

"He's really good..."

"He's on a different level from the others. Is he from another team? Why is he here for a tryout?"

The reactions of the spectators watching the test were nothing but amazement and admiration.

Even the kids who had spoken ill of Rohan couldn't help but be impressed.

Seeing this,

Banseokho couldn't help but feel satisfied, even though he knew it was childish.

While he could understand that the kids spoke without thinking, he had felt his blood boil just a moment ago.

Fortunately, he was older and had two sons, so he managed to control himself.

If he had been younger, he might have called the kids over and given them a good beating.

After all, Banseokho was known as a tough guy even in the PL during his playing days.

But now, he couldn't afford to lose face.

He had to suppress his anger and pretend he hadn't heard.

But seeing Johan prove himself, he couldn't help but feel satisfied.

It felt like drinking a refreshing soda.

"Okay. That's it. Good job. Check the board over there for your team."

Johan's test was over.

He had completed the test faster than anyone else.

The scores were obvious.

If the coaches' eyes hadn't deceived them, they would all be perfect.

This wasn't just because he was the son or the brother.

As a soccer fan who truly loved the sport, both Banseokho and Rohan knew that,

no matter how objectively they looked at it, Johan's talent was a perfect 100 out of 100.

That was the real talent of the Ban family.

"Now, this is the last one."

"Everyone must be surprised, but it's too early to be amazed."

What was left was the final test.

The 11v11 practice game.

Both Rohan and Banseokho thought it was too early to be amazed.

The true difference in talent would be more evident on the field, not just in the partial tests.

"Everyone, gather! The game is about to start."

The practice game was about to begin.

"Show them what you've got, Johan!"

"Show them! Show them what you can do!"

Rohan and Banseokho watched the field with high expectations.