A few days later.
Early May, La Boca district, Buenos Aires.
"Huh? What's with those people over there?"
All eyes in the bustling street turned toward one direction.
"You know that Asian kid who's been making waves in the youth league lately?"
"Oh, our lucky charm?"
"Yeah, that's his family over there."
The onlookers' gaze fell upon a group of over ten people wearing jerseys marked with YOO JI WOO, casually strolling down the street.
The group seemed unbothered by the attention. After all, in a country that lives and breathes soccer, walking around in jerseys was as normal as eating a meal.
"Boss! When is Yoo getting promoted to the second team? Any updates?"
At Julia's question, the surrounding people perked up their ears.
"Not yet. I haven't asked."
"What? Really? I thought with your personality, you'd have asked right away."
"My son's finally enjoying soccer with a smile on his face. I don't want to burden him."
Back in Korea, even talking about soccer at home was avoided.
But now things were different.
His son would initiate conversations about soccer the moment he came home, his bright face brimming with excitement. He didn't want to pressure him by asking about turning pro.
All he could do was wait quietly, letting his son enjoy the game as much as he wanted after so many years of struggle.
"So, you all just wait patiently too, okay?"
"That's classic dad behavior from you, boss."
"My wife's even worse."
"Really? I'd love to meet her someday."
At that, Yoo Hanwoo briefly thought of his wife, Seo Seolhee.
They had first met in 2006 while watching the World Cup in Germany. Even after their marriage, going to soccer matches together was one of their favorite pastimes.
Although her soccer fever had toned down since they had kids, back then, her life seemed entirely built around the sport.
"She was something else in those days."
Soon, they arrived at the stadium.
Though it wasn't their first time coming to see a match, today, the place felt especially crowded.
"With a shot at the title after six years, it's no wonder it's packed."
The Boca Juniors U-20 team was undefeated, and with a win today, they would secure the championship early.
"Of course! Those River Plate bastards have been hogging all the titles for years!"
"Exactly! And the way they mock us—ugh."
"Those lucky punks. They should be grateful we went easy on them."
While chatting, they reached their seats, where members of the local Korean community were already busy setting things up.
"Oh!"
A woman sipping on drinks with her kids noticed Yoo Hanwoo and greeted him warmly.
"Mr. Treasurer, you're here!"
"You all look great in those jerseys!"
"It's thanks to you for getting them made so nicely. Come on over here—the banner you ordered has arrived."
When Yoo Hanwoo saw the banner the younger members were hanging up, he couldn't help but grin widely.
"Hehehe."
"Do you like it?"
"Yes, I can already imagine my son's happy face."
Julia snuck over to peek at it.
"What does it say?"
---
A few days after watching the first-division match, my heart still hadn't settled.
I wanted to get there soon.
To play at La Bombonera.
That desire wrapped itself around my entire being.
When we came out to warm up for the game, a deafening cheer erupted in my ears.
"..."
I was speechless as I looked toward the source of the noise.
"Yoo, is that your family?"
"...."
Lautaro Orban came over to ask, but I just shook my head.
The jerseys were one thing, but what really caught my eye was the banner in front of them.
"Yoo Ji Woo Fan Club - YooSaMo!"
Among all the banners, that one stood out because it was written in Korean.
"What does it say?"
"I'll tell you later."
"Alright."
Lautaro didn't press further and started warming up.
After about ten minutes of warm-up, I got permission from the coach and walked toward the stands where my father was seated.
---
"Father?"
With a towel bearing the Boca Juniors emblem tied around his head and an armband on his arm, my dad looked like a warrior heading into battle.
"My boy!"
"What's all this?"
"Hahahaha! I made it all in Korean, so you wouldn't get homesick!"
Everyone around him greeted me warmly too.
"Yoo!!! I'm here!"
"Julia, sit down!"
Our restaurant staff.
"Make sure you win!"
The Korean community members.
"Did you warm up properly?"
"Don't get hurt! Crush those punks in one swift strike!"
"Let's bring home the cup!"
Even Alicia's family joined in.
"Win."
My dad leaned against the railing and offered his fist. I chuckled softly and bumped it with mine.
"Yes."
Seeing my dad's smile seemed to wash away my impatience to reach the first team.
It wasn't that I no longer wanted to; it was just that my body felt lighter.
No need to rush.
If I keep doing what I've been doing, my time will come.
For now, I'll just focus on what's right in front of me.
"Huh—ah. Did you come straight here after arriving?"
Daniel, a member of the operations team, handed a drink to the person beside him.
The recipient of the drink was none other than Rodrigo, the scout who had discovered Yoo Ji-woo.
"I need to see how much the player I brought over has grown."
After wrapping up his Asian schedule and returning late the previous night, Rodrigo had skipped going to the club and come straight to the stadium.
"You're so intense," Daniel said with a laugh, shaking his head.
No one in the club could stop Rodrigo when he was this fired up.
"Any word from the first team?"
"Word about what?"
"Promoting Yoo to the first team."
"There is. They're planning to move him to the second team in July, and if he performs well, promote him to the first team in January 2030."
Rodrigo raised his eyebrows in surprise at Daniel's response.
"Wow, I thought they were all idiots, but they're actually handling this well."
"Well, the head of the youth division still thinks it's too early, though."
"That guy's always like that. He has an eye for talent, but he's so cautious it's frustrating. That's why promising players leave the club without getting a chance."
"That can't be helped."
Daniel's face fell. He knew too well how many talented players had left because of the conservative management style of Juan Montero, the youth division director.
"It's not that it can't be helped; that guy's just a coward. He's afraid to take responsibility if a player gets promoted quickly and loses form."
"You're not wrong."
"Right?"
"So, did you call me here just to scold me?"
"No, I wanted to hear the club's opinion about Yoo."
"Then can I leave now?"
"Leave? Where to? Sit down and watch the game."
---
As the two continued chatting, the stands gradually filled with spectators. Soon after, the referee's whistle blew, signaling the kickoff for Boca Juniors U-20's match.
"Yoo!"
Right from the start, Sebastián's first pass went to Yoo Ji-woo, who was playing as a right winger.
"He's coming! Rico!"
The San Lorenzo coach was well aware of Yoo Ji-woo's threat level.
From the opening minutes, they pressured him with two defenders, plus a backup, surrounding him with a total of three players.
"Even if it disrupts the defensive line's balance, we cannot let that guy have any opportunities."
Underestimating him just because he was an Asian player wasn't an option.
Many clubs had suffered by ignoring the skill hidden behind his nationality.
"Tighten up! Leave no room for the ball to escape!"
San Lorenzo stuck to their pre-match strategy, closing in on Yoo Ji-woo relentlessly.
Thud!
An opponent cursed as he collided with Yoo, but Yoo didn't go down easily.
His body balance was uncharacteristically strong for his small frame.
Lowering his stance to absorb the impact, he used his strength to stay steady and deftly avoided the defenders' feet by dragging the ball with the sole of his shoe.
Then, as soon as he saw a gap—
Tap, tap-tap!
He executed La Croqueta (Phantom Dribble) to slip through.
The sight of a 172cm player breaking past defenders over 180cm tall drew gasps of admiration from the crowd.
"Yoo's play is so satisfying to watch!"
"Even when they try to crush him with their bodies, he doesn't budge."
"At this rate, he'll be in the second team soon."
Among the fans, Yoo Ji-woo's dribbling skills were already highly regarded.
His ability to cut through any defense, no matter how tightly packed, was so exhilarating that he was quickly building a dedicated fanbase.
---
Twenty minutes into the match.
There was still no score.
A shot Yoo Ji-woo attempted from the right wing narrowly missed the goalpost.
"Yoo's great and all, but he doesn't pass enough. If he had passed to Guillermo just now, it could've been a scoring chance."
His lack of passing was still an issue.
"Hmm."
"What are you thinking about?"
"Actually, I heard something about Yoo."
People nearby gathered around the fan who spoke.
"What did you hear?"
"You know about the incident Yoo was involved in back in Korea, right?"
"The coach assault? Anyone who's looked him up knows about it."
The man continued, "Do you think Yoo's reluctance to pass is related to that?"
As the crowd pondered the question, one spectator glanced back at the field and smirked.
"But still."
Thud!
"Even without passing, he's incredible."
Although Yoo lacked the killer pass, his overall play was lethal.
This was why the fans cheered for him all the more.
"True."
"As long as he's awesome, who cares?"
"Even if he doesn't pass, Yoo's got his dribbling!"
Moments later, Yoo Ji-woo broke the deadlock, finishing Guillermo's pass with a one-touch shot into the goal.
"Bam!"
After celebrating his goal, Yoo gestured to Lautaro Orban.
"Hey, Lautaro."
"What?"
"I've got an idea. Wanna hear it?"
Instead of quietly blending into the game, Yoo Ji-woo was now embracing his role as a game-changer.
After a year-long hiatus, his dribbling skills had returned when his suspension in Korea ended.
But now, thanks to his experiences in Argentina, another forgotten skill was coming back:
"Playmaking."
"What's the idea?"
Yoo whispered something into Lautaro Orban's ear, and a wide grin spread across Lautaro's face.
"I'm in!"
"Let's sync signals with a glance."
"Got it!"
After that, Yoo Ji-woo didn't limit himself to the wing. Whenever the opposing players tried to isolate him, he would dart into the center, relentlessly exploiting the gaps they left behind.
Tap.
Though no decisive passes had been made yet, he evaded pressure by seamlessly exchanging horizontal passes with Lautaro Orban.
An overwhelming destructive force emanating from a small frame.
The sheer catharsis it evoked.
"That's it!"
Gradually, the audience became entranced by the magic Yoo Ji-woo was weaving.
And the highlight of that magic was yet to come.
Swoosh.
Yoo Ji-woo calmly observed the field.
As San Lorenzo intensified their pressure, concentrating on him, he gave a signal.
Wink.
Without hesitation, Lautaro Orban acknowledged it.
Nod.
When Yoo Ji-woo swapped positions with Lautaro Orban in the center, San Lorenzo's balance was completely shattered.
Rodolfo Pinti, watching from the bench, was stunned.
"Switching in this situation?"
It was a play they hadn't even practiced in training.
Switching plays were impossible without deep understanding and trust in each other's game.
"Could it be... has Yoo finally opened his heart?"
Breaking through San Lorenzo's defensive line with the switch, Yoo Ji-woo took control of the ball in the center and looked at Guillermo Darin.
Positioned on the edge of the offside line with his back to the center-backs, Guillermo was in a precarious but dangerous spot.
Pass?
Dribble?
Ordinarily, Yoo Ji-woo would have gone for the dribble. But something inside him was beginning to change.
In Korea, soccer had been a lonely experience for him. He reduced his passing and focused on dribbling. But in Argentina, soccer was no longer lonely.
Here, he had friends who always made things enjoyable, not the kind who smiled to his face only to stab him in the back.
Thump.
At last, the forgotten trust began to flow from Yoo Ji-woo's foot to the goalpost.
"Did he just… pass?!"
While everyone was caught off guard, Guillermo Darin slipped through the defensive line and stretched out his foot.
"Mine!"
Even the goalkeeper rushed out.
But it was too late to react.
Yoo Ji-woo's pass had landed in the space between the defenders and the goalkeeper — the most difficult spot for a keeper to judge.
Tap.
The goalkeeper was a step too slow, and Guillermo Darin lightly tapped the ball, redirecting its path.
The ball rolled past the goalkeeper to the left, and one desperate defender chased after it with all his might.
Slide!
He slid in, trying to clear it, but the ball had already crossed the goal line.
WAAAAHHHH!
While the focus was on Guillermo Darin, who had scored, the surrounding crowd thought otherwise.
In the stands, Julia was left speechless, while Yoo Han-woo, cheering excitedly, was asked a question.
"…Boss, was Yoo always this good at passing?"
To anyone watching, it was a flawless pass.
Everyone awaited Yoo Han-woo's response.
"Huh?"
Seeing their stunned expressions, Yoo Han-woo calmly replied.
"Didn't I tell you? Before the incident, my son wasn't a dribbling crack-style player but a central midfielder who excelled as a playmaker."
Yoo Ji-woo's first standout moments on the field weren't through dribbling but passing.
"…What?! Is that true?"
Everyone was shocked.
Yoo Ji-woo looked like the quintessential dribbling specialist, yet he was originally a central playmaker?
"Yep."
"Why didn't you tell us!"
As Julia tugged at his arm and complained, Yoo Han-woo scratched his head and replied.
"Nobody asked."