Chapter 7: The Deceiver on the Grass

The world became crystal clear once again.

The chilling liquid that had flowed through the back of my neck last night was now coursing through my veins, awakening every cell in my body like divine fuel.

It felt like a machine whose engine had been dying suddenly receiving premium-grade lubricant and roaring back to life.

[System Reboot Complete: Limited Body-2 (LB-2)]

[Physical Output: 200% (Normal)]

[Negative Factors (Fatigue, Muscle Soreness) Suppression Rate: 50%]

[Notification: Phase 2 Synchronization Stabilized. Maximum Sensory Resolution Maintained.]

I climbed up to the rooftop and took a deep breath.

Even the exhaust-filled air of Seoksu-dong felt fresh as my lungs analyzed it into precise combinations of oxygen, nitrogen, and microscopic carbon particles.

The movement of an ant’s leg joints beneath my feet was as clear as if viewed through a high-powered microscope.

The sound of shoes clicking from people heading toward Gwanak Station in the distance echoed like the rhythm of a perfectly tuned metronome.

I sat on the rooftop bench and picked up the football boots beside me.

They were brand new.

I had only worn them once after the bizarre clinical experiment.

The leather still carried that stiff, fresh smell of a new product.

The studs looked sharp enough to suggest they had only touched the ground a single time.

Unlike the worn-out boots from my benchwarmer days, these were equipment for a new beginning.

***

“Hey, Han the Sugar Daddy! What are you doing up here so early? And why are you holding football boots?”

The rooftop door burst open.

Tae-ho appeared carrying two convenience-store coffees that had obviously come from a buy-two-get-one-free promotion.

“Tae-ho? What are you doing here this early? Don’t you have work?”

“What work? I came to see your face before my shift. But seriously, are you polishing football boots? Yesterday you were riding around in a Porsche acting all cool as the top medical-school student. Don’t tell me you’re actually going back to football? And when did you buy those boots? They’re shining.”

He tossed one of the coffees toward me.

His jaw practically dropped.

More than anyone, Tae-ho knew my miserable high school years spent warming the bench as a substitute player.

“Yeah. I’m thinking of joining the football team. I’ve already printed the application form.”

“You’re insane.”

His voice immediately rose.

“You’ll be coughing blood just trying to survive medical school. What football? Has your brain turned green like grass or something?”

“Do you think Baekgyeong University’s football team is some neighborhood amateur club? Those guys have been elite athletes since middle school. They’ll snap your ankle without even trying. Just study!”

His voice echoed across the rooftop.

Half concern.

Half disbelief.

That rough affection unique to Kim Tae-ho.

I smiled casually and pushed my straw into the coffee.

“A doctor needs stamina. Besides, I look pretty good standing on grass.”

“Tae-ho, don’t worry.”

“When I become successful, I’ll reserve a VIP room at Baekgyeong University Hospital for you.”

“I heard the facilities are great and the nurses are really kind.”

“If you ever get sick, maybe I’ll even operate on you myself.”

“Though I’ll skip the anesthesia.”

Tae-ho stared at me for a moment.

Then he burst out laughing and punched my shoulder lightly.

“Baekgyeong Hospital?”

“Of course. If you’re the top medical student, that’s where our family doctor should be.”

“If you work somewhere else, I’ll come drag you back myself.”

He grinned.

“Go do it.”

“You became the number-one student in the country. Why wouldn’t you be able to play football too?”

“Sometimes you feel like a completely different person and it freaks me out.”

“But you’re still Han Ji-hoon.”

“That annoying way you talk hasn’t changed.”

He drained the rest of his coffee and stood up.

“Go flatten those elite guys’ noses!”

“Show them the power of a former benchwarmer!”

“I’m off to sell triangle kimbap at the convenience store.”

“Good luck, Han the Sugar Daddy!”

With his usual bright laugh, Tae-ho disappeared down the stairs.

His encouragement lingered in the morning air.

Instead of doubting my transformation, he simply chose to trust me as a friend.

That rough but sincere trust felt strangely reassuring today.

***

Baekgyeong University Central Field

Sunlight glittered across the well-maintained green grass.

On one side of the field, large, muscular men trained intensely, breathing heavily.

The sounds of footballs being struck and players shouting commands filled the field with tension.

I took the carefully prepared application form from my bag and headed toward the football team’s bench.

Standing there was Coach Oh Dong-man, an older man with a whistle hanging from his neck and sharp eyes fixed on the field.

“Who are you?”

“No outsiders allowed.”

“Don’t interrupt practice.”

He didn’t even turn around when he spoke.

I smiled politely and handed him the application form.

“Hello, Coach. I’m Han Ji-hoon, a first-year pre-med student.”

“I’d like to join the football team.”

Only then did he slowly turn his head and examine me from top to bottom.

The look in his eyes was filled with open contempt.

[Target Analysis: Coach Oh Dong-man]

[Mental State: Authoritarian Arrogance 82%]

[Hostility Toward Intellectual Elites Mixed with Inferiority Complex: 90%]

“Han Ji-hoon?”

“Oh, the kid who got a perfect score on the college entrance exam.”

He snorted.

“I checked your high school record. Nothing special.”

“You’re nowhere near good enough for this team.”

“So you got into medical school and now you think you can crawl in here too?”

“This isn’t some hobby club where students come to relax.”

“You’ve probably never even smelled real sweat.”

His words were filled with thorns.

To him, football belonged to people who dedicated their lives to it.

A smart kid trying to step into that world was an intrusion.

Especially one whose football skills hadn’t been good enough before.

“Come on, Coach.”

“That’s harsh.”

“I was a football player too.”

“I mastered football theory from the bench.”

“I just need practical data.”

“And I’ve got pretty good field vision.”

“Theory?”

“Data?”

Coach Oh laughed.

“You think football is played with your brain?”

“Players tear ligaments all the time.”

“And some medical-school kid wants to play while protecting himself?”

“Get lost.”

“You’re just wasting my players’ training time.”

“Your application is going straight into the trash.”

“Go read another textbook.”

He didn’t even look at the form before trying to shove me away.

Then—

A familiar lavender scent drifted across the field.

***

“Ji-hoon, what are you doing here?”

“You’re seriously trying to join the football team?”

I turned.

Lee Se-young stood there holding a stack of medical textbooks.

Her eyes were as deep as the ocean as always.

Still observing.

Still trying to see through me.

“Hey, Se-young.”

“I came to apply, but Coach says I look too fragile.”

“Think you could help me out?”

I winked playfully.

She sighed and walked toward Coach Oh.

“Hello, Coach.”

“I’m Lee Se-young, class representative for pre-med.”

“This guy is unbelievably stubborn.”

“Regardless of his skill, there’s an official tryout process for joining the team, right?”

“Why not just let him take the test?”

“If he fails, he’ll give up.”

“No one can accuse you of ignoring procedure.”

Her appearance immediately drew attention from everyone nearby.

Even Coach Oh hesitated.

As the representative of the medical program, she had authority.

Rejecting me outright would look bad.

[Target Analysis: Coach Oh Dong-man]

[Heart Rate: 75 BPM → 84 BPM]

[Conflict Level Rising]

“…Fine.”

“But we’ll do this the proper way.”

“If you embarrass yourself and cry afterward, don’t blame me.”

He clicked his tongue and kicked a ball toward the center of the field.

“Seok-jin!”

“Bring two starting defenders over here!”

***

Captain Kang Seok-jin approached while wiping sweat from his face.

Ever since I humiliated him before, he’d been eager for revenge.

Behind him stood two defenders well-known throughout the university league.

Se-young watched silently from a distance.

“The test is simple.”

Coach Oh crossed his arms.

“Face Seok-jin and these two starters.”

“Keep possession and cross the halfway line.”

“You get three attempts.”

“Succeed once, and you’re in.”

Laughter erupted among the team.

Against the strongest defensive trio in the university league?

A former benchwarmer medical student crossing the halfway line while keeping possession?

It wasn’t a test.

It was a joke.

I tightened my shoelaces and stepped onto the field.

The sensation of the grass traveled through the studs of my boots.

[Multi-Dimensional Computation Layer Activated]

[Field Scan Complete]

[Grass Friction Coefficient: 0.12]

[Opponent A, B, C Center of Gravity and Gaze Patterns Analyzed]

[Loading Skill Data: Lionel Messi – La Croqueta (Phantom Dribble)]

[Computation Complete]

Seok-jin and the other two charged toward me like predators.

A suffocating triangular press.

But to me, their movements appeared as pure data.

Every step.

Every shift in weight.

Every muscle contraction.

The impossible moments where Lionel Messi glided through five defenders were no longer miracles.

They were simply physics.

“Guys, I watched something amazing on YouTube yesterday.”

“Messi’s phantom dribble.”

“It actually looked pretty easy.”

“I’ll try copying it.”

The moment I finished speaking, I nudged the ball inward with my left foot.

Seok-jin lunged toward it.

At that exact instant, the ball had already moved to my right foot and slipped between his legs.

The beautiful off-beat rhythm that once stole the souls of defenders.

[Skill Execution: La Croqueta (Phantom Dribble)]

[Accuracy: 99.8%]

[Execution Time: 0.22 Seconds]

[Peak Messi Data Synchronized]

“…?!”

Seok-jin crashed face-first into the grass.

The two defenders followed.

I shifted the rhythm again.

The ball danced between my feet.

My body slipped between them like a ghost.

An unnatural silence fell over the field.

I calmly crossed the halfway line.

Coach Oh’s whistle fell from his mouth.

“You…”

“What was that?”

“That was Messi’s dribble!”

“You couldn’t even kick properly back in high school!”

Seok-jin scrambled up and charged again.

But I had already crossed the line.

“Coach, honestly, it looked easier than I expected.”

“I’m a medical student.”

“My memory is excellent.”

“I just memorized Messi’s movements and copied them.”

“Studying really is amazing.”

I smiled casually.

Then I succeeded on the second attempt.

And the third.

Without sweating once.

As if I were simply taking a walk.

***

When the test ended, Coach Oh silently stamped my application form.

His hand trembled slightly.

“…You got lucky.”

“But training is different.”

“Starting tomorrow, you’ll experience hell.”

“Thank you, Coach!”

“I’ll work hard!”

“Oh, and could I get the nicest-looking uniform?”

“I’m pretty picky about appearances.”

I gave a shameless bow and walked away.

As I picked up my bag, Se-young approached.

The familiar lavender scent lingered around her.

“Han Ji-hoon.”

She blocked my path.

“What exactly are you?”

Her tone had softened.

But her suspicion had only grown deeper.

“What am I?”

“You just saw it.”

“I’m Han Ji-hoon.”

“Big Messi fan.”

“Stop lying.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“When you moved, there wasn’t a single wasted centimeter.”

“It was unnaturally efficient.”

“Like a machine calculated everything.”

“You were never this good before.”

“Don’t think you can fool me.”

I paused and looked at her.

The reflection of my smiling face lingered in her eyes.

“Se-young.”

“I stayed up all night watching Messi videos.”

“More than ten thousand times.”

“Call it the determination of a top-ranked student.”

“I really wanted this.”

“So don’t be so suspicious.”

“I’m actually pretty fragile.”

“Fragile?”

She laughed.

“Anyway, congratulations on making the team.”

“But when exactly are you planning to study?”

“You haven’t forgotten about the mountain of anatomy assignments, have you?”

“If you lose your top rank, I won’t let it slide.”

“I can’t watch my rival ruin himself because of football.”

She smiled and lightly punched my shoulder.

Her guard had lowered a little.

But that watchful gaze remained.

***

On the way home, my phone vibrated.

Manager Kim.

I opened the message.

[Excellent work on the first phase of data collection, Ji-hoon.]

[Your performance on the field was perfect.]

[Now let’s see the same performance in the classroom.]

[I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s anatomy lab score.]

I locked the screen and muttered to myself.

“Come on, Manager Kim.”

“At least let me eat first.”

“I’m meeting Tae-ho for pork belly tonight.”

“If Messi eats well to play well, I should too.”

I continued walking toward the old apartment blocks of Seoksu-dong.

Intellect.

Instinct.

And the dangerous masquerade unfolding between them.

Ji-hoon’s real game was only just beginning.

[Notification: Next Mission]

[Achieve A+ in Anatomy Lab]

[Dominate Team Tactical Training]