Chapter 19: The First Holiday that Flew Away Cleanly (3)

The unnamed woman stepped closer and looked up at me.

I felt my face grow hot and took a step back, as if one more step forward would put us too close together.

"Please calm down… First, who are you?"

The unnamed woman stood tall in her place. She took a deep breath, calming her excitement.

"I'm Erin Allen."

"Erin Allen…?"

Wasn't Chris's last name Allen?

"Yes, I'm Chris's 'older sister.'"

The emphasis on "older" made it clear. As my eyes adjusted to the lighting, I realized that Erin Allen looked very much like Chris. Her outfit also caught my attention.

She was wearing Chris's replica jersey and had a scarf around her neck, just like me.

Erin Allen raised her eyebrows again and asked, "You've revealed your name, so why are you just standing there?"

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Please tell me what you know. Did Chris try to fix the match?"

"Um… Could you just show me your hand?"

"Excuse me?"

She had saved me from the brokers, and she looked similar to Chris, but a hint of doubt lingered in my mind. The timing of her rescue was too convenient.

If her name was fake, I would need to escape. But wait, the door is locked... Does that mean I need to take her hostage?

I contemplated seriously, then said to Erin Allen, "Just extend your finger."

"What?"

"It will be quick."

When I spoke firmly, Erin Allen raised her hand. I poked her finger with mine.

"What are you doing?"

Zing.

"It will be quick."

I repeated the same phrase and took out my phone.

At the very least, I should be able to verify her name. If I was lucky, I might find more information.

[Erin Allen]

Name confirmed.

Potential Ability: ☆☆☆☆☆☆☆ (for women's football)

Ooh?

Born March 17, 1999

She shares the same birthday as Chris. Older sister, huh? Ah!

"Are you twins?"

Erin Allen's eyes widened.

"I'm the older one!"

I had found it odd that she used the word "older," and now it seemed that sibling rivalry between twins was universal.

I nodded slightly, keeping the last piece of information to myself.

Suffers from a heart condition, unsuitable for playing as an athlete.

I briefly dreamed of conquering the women's football scene, but I thought I should put that aside for now.

Since her name matched and her reaction seemed genuine, it really felt like I was talking to Chris's family, so it was time to get the conversation started.

"I'm sorry. I was being chased, so I became suspicious."

"What did you do? How did you know we were twins?"

"It's an Eastern technique. It's a trade secret."

"…?"

Erin Allen looked bewildered. I felt sad that I had to come up with such an excuse.

"Anyway, that's not important. You mentioned match-fixing, but do you know anything about it?"

"Why do I have to speak first when I asked you? First, what is your relationship with Chris? There can't be anyone Chris knows that I don't."

I gave up on taking control of the conversation and introduced myself.

"I'm an employee at EW Agency. I'm in charge of interpreting. I met Chris about three weeks ago."

"EW Agency?"

Erin Allen's eyes narrowed. She looked like she might spit at me at any moment and took a step back.

"Why did you come here after abandoning us?"

I raised both hands to express my innocence.

"I'm unrelated to this matter. I'm a newcomer who has been with the agency for less than a month."

"Then what are you doing here...?"

I saw Chris talking to a broker when I met him."

"A broker?"

Erin Allen muttered as if she was starting to grasp something. I decided to speak honestly.

"You asked if Chris was involved in match-fixing, right? Yes, I think that's probably true. I couldn't just watch that happen, so I came here. Fortunately, Chris didn't cross the line in today's match."

"..."

"From your reaction, it seems you didn't know."

Erin Allen nodded. Then she mumbled to herself.

"I noticed Chris was acting strangely lately, so I came to the stadium after a long time. He kept playing like he was checking for other people's reactions. It was unlike him. But right after the second half began, a suspicious Asian person led the cheering. He was using the same strange chant."

Erin Allen looked directly at me.

She was so beautiful that I felt embarrassed to meet her gaze. What a stunning gene pool! With her looks and potential ability level, if she became a football player, she'd be a superstar. Such a waste.

If Chris and she both won Player of the Year together, the buzz would be doubled and then some. What a pity.

Erin Allen continued speaking.

"When Chris heard that cheer, he seemed really flustered. That made me think there might be a connection to match-fixing. And you seemed to know something. So I waited here with Lily. I saw the guys in black suits asking about you. They were obviously going to chase you, so I figured you'd come here since there's both a parking lot and a subway."

As soon as she finished speaking, I heard the sound of a lock being opened, and a girl with red hair and freckles entered the storage room.

She must be Lily.

"They're gone. Is the conversation over? What did they say?"

"Chris is involved in match-fixing. This person stopped it."

"...Really?"

The girl, presumably named Lily, suddenly looked cold as her eyes widened. It seemed like she was processing something, then she exclaimed, "Ah!" and rushed over to me, suddenly hugging me.

"Thank you for stopping him."

"Uh… yeah."

Just as I was flustered by the European-style expressions of gratitude, I heard the vibration of my helper and Erin Allen's voice in succession.

Zing.

"I forgot to thank you too. Thank you for stopping Chris."

"No, thank you for saving me."

I lightly bowed my head as well.

An awkward atmosphere settled in.

Lily chimed in with a shrug, "I'm Lily Rose. I've been friends with Chris and Erin since childhood."

"Oh, yes. I'm Taehyun Seok. My surname is Tae, and my given name is Hyun-seok. I work at EW Agency as an interpreter."

Just like Erin Allen before, Lily Rose shot me a sharp glare.

Damn, what did I do to earn such a reaction?

I awkwardly smiled and explained myself to clear up Lily Rose's misunderstanding, just like I did with Erin Allen.

Erin Allen, who had been quietly watching us, spoke up.

"I'll treat you to a meal. You'll be meeting Chris, right?"

Erin Allen and Lily Rose confirmed that the brokers were not in the parking lot, and I stuffed my uniform and scarf into my bag and exited the stadium.

As I did, I took a moment to review the information I had missed about Chris.

Chris's name did not disappear.

Instead, the red message indicating scheduled deletion had vanished.

"Thank goodness."

"What did you say?"

Lily Rose had somehow appeared in front of me.

"What are you looking at?"

I hurriedly closed the helper app.

"Helper?"

Damn, so there's no effect like in fantasy novels where others can't see it.

I had to come up with something reasonable.

"It's like a notepad."

"Is that so?"

Lily Rose, without suspicion, asked which car we should take. I pointed to the rental car with my finger.

Both Lily Rose and Erin Allen's eyes widened in surprise.

I wondered how they would react to Sebastian's car. This one costs less than half of what Sebastian's does.

I pressed the remote and got into the car, telling the girls to hurry up and get in. I was worried the brokers might come back.

As soon as they got in, they were busy exploring the interior. It seemed they had never been in a car like this before.

I thought about showing off a little due to their reactions but decided to be honest.

I wasn't here to impress the girls anyway.

"It's not my car."

"What? Whose car is it?"

"It's the car rented by the player in charge. Since it's borrowed, please don't touch anything carelessly. I don't know what's in the back either."

"Okay!"

Lily Rose cheerfully replied, continuing to explore the inside of the car.

Erin Allen was curled up in her seat, looking very tense.

"There's no need to be so cautious…"

"What if I touch something and break it?"

Erin Allen said in a serious voice.

I asked Erin Allen to tell me the address of their house. I entered the address into the navigation system and scanned my surroundings as we left the parking lot. Fortunately, there were no brokers in sight.

Chris's house was quite shabby.

It wasn't like a one-room place, but even though it showed signs of having been cleaned, it felt like it was on the verge of falling apart.

The first person to greet us was Isabel Allen, Chris and Erin's mother.

There was no doubt they inherited their looks from her.

Her cheeks were pale, and her lips were bluish, but if someone said she was an actress, it would have been easy to believe.

At first, she didn't seem pleased when I introduced myself as being from EW Agency, but when Erin Allen referred to me as "the person who helped Chris," she embraced me without even confirming what kind of help it was.

"Is Chris home?"

"No, he hasn't come back yet."

I had forgotten. What if the brokers hurt Chris?

"He said he'd be back soon. He's having dinner with some acquaintances."

Phew… Thankfully, it seemed he was able to stay in touch. My suspicion that those acquaintances might be brokers was turning into a certainty.

Just in case Chris came back with the brokers, I parked the car a bit further away in a bustling area and returned to the house.

By the time I got back, Erin Allen was already waiting for me with a fresh face, free of makeup. She led me to Chris's room.

"Oooh! Is this signature real?"

As soon as I entered, I saw a Real Madrid jersey hanging in front of me. It was number 11, Gareth Bale's jersey, with some illegible handwriting underneath.

I stared at the jersey without touching it.

Is this Gareth Bale's signature?

"You recognize it! I went all the way to the airport to get it! I only intended to get his autograph, but they gave me the jersey too."

"Did he give it to you personally?"

When I expressed my admiration, Erin Allen puffed out her chest proudly. So Erin Allen must be a Gareth Bale fan as well.

I was really envious. One of the items on my wishlist was to fill my home with jerseys like this.

After staring at the jersey for a while, I finally had the chance to look around the room.

Chris's room was filled with Gareth Bale merchandise.

From matchday posters to action figures portraying Gareth Bale, and even scarves.

There were countless photos of Gareth Bale cut out from newspapers and magazines.

"Is Chris a Gareth Bale fan?"

To my obvious question, Erin Allen nodded.

"He's a crazy fan. So am I. He's our hero from Wales."

Erin Allen held up an article from the 2016 Euro semifinals and spoke.

Ding.

Just then, I heard the sound of the front door opening.

Are you back?"

The voice of Isabel Allen followed, along with—

Whack!

"You! Are you insane?!"

The furious voice of Lily Rose.

Erin Allen and I hurriedly left the room.

Erin Allen strode ahead of me, looking bewildered, and grabbed Chris by the collar as he rubbed his shin and slapped him across the face.

Smack!

Wow, that was a solid hit. What's going on with these guys?

Erin Allen shouted next, "Match-fixing? Are you crazy?!"

Chris's mother looked bewildered and said nothing, while Chris's expression turned to one of confusion. He lowered his eyes.

Lily Rose began to sniffle.

"How did you know?"

A silence fell over the room, and Chris struggled to lift his head. When he spotted me, he said, "You, you were there that time…"

Chris quickly regained his composure.

"You heard it then. The strange support—it was you, right?"

"Yeah."

Chris hung his head again and tried to walk past us.

I grabbed Chris by the shoulder.

"I want to talk. How about having a drink?"

When are you coming back?

"I think I'll be back in the early morning. I have to go to training tomorrow, right?"

I'm bored...

"Ugh."

Sebastian's grumbling voice echoed over the phone.

After I ended the call, Chris, who was walking beside me, spoke up.

"Milo Cornery was looking for you. He asked you to contact him if you happen to meet."

Huh?

I awkwardly smiled and asked while glancing back.

"Are you going to contact him?"

"I'll listen to what he has to say."

"Maybe..."

I scanned left and right, and even peeked into the alleyways.

"Nope."

Chris shook his head.

But I felt uneasy.

What if this guy was taking me to the brokers? This time, I checked the second-floor windows of the building and the people inside the café.

"I told you no!"

Chris snapped, then added, "If I wanted to contact him, I would have done it a long time ago. Why are you making this so complicated?"

"Isn't that right?"

I pretended to be calm while taking out my phone, pressing 999, the UK police number, and tucking it into my pocket. I made sure it was secure in the corner of my pocket so I could hit the call button at any moment.

Fortunately, the place Chris led me to was the liquor store I originally intended to go to.

I asked again at the entrance, "Is there really no quiet bar or anything? Don't you feel uncomfortable at home?"

"There's none in this area. Look around. Does it look like there's one?"

Chris said as he slowly turned to survey the surroundings. Following his gaze, the overall atmosphere resembled a slum. It was unlikely.

Once inside the store, I picked up a few expensive and strong bottles of alcohol.

Chris flinched noticeably as I examined the price tags of the liquor. It reminded me of Erin Allen in the car, refusing to touch anything, and I chuckled softly.

"Do you have a lot of money? Why are you buying so much?"

"Not a lot, but it would be a shame to skimp. I have an early schedule tomorrow, and if I drink cheap liquor, I'll just end up feeling sick. Oh, do you have any glasses at home?"

Chris shook his head.

I picked a glass and tossed it into the basket.

After paying, I stopped by the grocery store. I bought some snacks and, while I was at it, grabbed some food…

"Why are you buying so much?"

"For your mother and Erin. You're just an afterthought."

Chris's eyes widened in surprise.

"There's no romantic interest or anything. I just feel a bit guilty for showing up at night without bringing anything."

"Why do you feel guilty about that?"

"It's our culture, just accept it."

"What culture is that?"

"South Korea."

Chris nodded silently. A moment of mischief surged in me.

"Your mother is pretty, and Erin is pretty too."

Chris's eyes turned wild like a fierce beast. I flinched and awkwardly laughed.

"I'm just joking. I'm really not interested."

As soon as I arrived home, I handed the groceries to Isabel Allen and Erin Allen. Then I said I wanted to talk with Chris in his room.

Isabel Allen looked at me with concern, Erin Allen still wore an angry expression, and Lily Rose nodded with swollen eyes.

Chris hurried into the room as if fleeing.

"Is there anything to lay out?"

Chris came back holding a few newspapers. I placed a bottle of vodka and a glass on top of them and cut up some oranges to set beside them.

After pouring vodka into the glass, I handed it to Chris.

"Here, drink."

Chris took the glass without thinking and asked me, "What about you?"

"I have to drive."

He looked completely baffled.

"I thought you bought it for yourself. I can't drink."

"Why not?"

"I have recovery training tomorrow."

It was similar to what Sebastian had said, but I wasn't moved this time. This guy had a fatal flaw.

I only intended to think it but ended up saying it aloud.

"What kind of person who was going to fix matches says that...?"

Chris's expression hardened. For a moment, I thought I might get kicked out, but instead, Chris poured the drink into his mouth.

Gulp.

Then he snatched the vodka from my hand and refilled his glass.

Gulp.

This time, he poured it so hastily that it overflowed, and again, it ended with a gulp.

"Hey, stop..."

Frustrated, Chris poured the vodka straight down his throat. I heard a gulping sound, and over half of it disappeared in one go.

What a crazy guy.

"...You really drink well."

"It's my first time drinking, and I like the warmth."

"What?"

He really was insane.

Chris stared blankly at the empty glass. I waited for him to say something first.

Without shifting his gaze, Chris spoke as if to himself, "Did you come here out of pity? Did Harry send you?"

I shook my head.

"No, Harry doesn't know."

"Then why did you do this? Justice?"

"Uh, well..."

It could be a sense of justice, but it wasn't just that. I was about to say more when Chris interrupted.

"Then why did you stop me? Why? I need the money!"

Chris finally raised his head. Tears were welling up in his eyes, and his cheeks were getting redder.

I thought if I stayed silent, I could hear more.

"You saw I was about to be released, right? Do you know why? At the end of this season, I'll be cut from the team. Even with the agency's help, they said they can't re-sign me. They said I have no potential for growth. This is all the height I'm going to get, and they say I won't grow physically. They asked me what I could do with this height when I'm not even a Casillas."

Chris was around 180 cm tall, which isn't too short but can be critical for a goalkeeper.

"Erin and my mom are sick and can't work... and I'm worried I won't be able to find a job because I don't have any skills..."

"So?"

"Yeah, I need to live. If I don't make money, my mom will..."

Chris couldn't finish his sentence. It was clear without needing to say more. This story is the same in any country. Poor, beautiful women can become commodities in the underground world.

"Anyway, I was planning to quit football after this. I know better than anyone that I can't grow anymore, even if the club doesn't say so..."

"What if I said I came here because I saw your potential?"

I interrupted Chris.

His face was completely red, and his bloodshot eyes were staring at me.

I was being completely honest.

I came here solely because I saw Chris's potential.

Additionally, I wanted to investigate the reasons behind the match-fixing and determine if he was a player with no legal issues. If he had received any upfront payments, it would put him in a position similar to committing a crime.

If everything was clear, we could stay in contact, become friends—just that was my plan.

I got a bit emotional and said it sooner than I intended.

The position of being a young head of the family thrust upon him due to a poor environment, the rotten eyes of the coaches and managers forcing him to play in a mismatched position—Chris almost fell into despair, not realizing his talent because of issues he couldn't control.

And he was on the verge of losing hope.

I love football.

The information from the helper about Chris resonated with me.

Just looking at this room plastered with Gareth Bale memorabilia, it was clear. How could someone who loves football this much consider giving up?

Earlier, this was useless information, but now it's different. Solid information gives me the strength of conviction.

"You love football, right? You want to be an amazing player like Gareth Bale, don't you?"

"..."

"You want to, don't you?"

I pointed to the gear hanging in the room one by one. Chris took a sip of vodka and spoke in a weak voice.

"I should be able to."

"You can."

At my firm statement, Chris frowned.

"Based on what? Have you seen my games? You've been here for less than a month."

"I've seen a lot. I feel like I've watched your games every night since I got here."

It was hard to cite the helper as evidence, so I mixed a little truth with a suitable lie. Every game I saw was him in goal, but I watched his match on the first day and again yesterday, staying up all night.

"An average of 1.5 goals conceded. If it weren't for injuries to the first and second goalkeepers, you wouldn't have been a starter. You've got good reflexes, agility, ball control, and kicking skills. But the most important thing, 'saves,' isn't happening. You're shorter, and your arm length is average, so your rate of conceding long-range shots is several times higher than that of other goalkeepers..."

It's not that difficult to talk about a player's characteristics.

I thought Chris's face wouldn't get any redder than the shade it already was due to the alcohol, but it became even more flushed.

"So you're trying to avoid situations where you have to make saves."

"Uh..."

"You did see my game, right? Anyway, even if you can't believe it, I do. You can become a player as good as Gareth Bale. But."

I needed to confirm something I hadn't asked earlier.

"Today, as a football fan, I was extremely disappointed. If it weren't for me, you surely would have... right?"

Chris looked down and poured himself another shot of vodka.

Shouldn't I be calming things down by now?

Let's just confirm it first.

"I'll ask one thing. Did you receive any money?"

"No. They said they'd give it to me if I conceded three goals."

That's good.

"What about the contract?"

"There isn't one."

They might have recorded something, but there didn't seem to be any apparent issues. They wouldn't want to bind themselves to something like that, so they probably didn't. Still, I made a mental note of it.

"Legally, there's no issue."

But the question of conscience remained.

Chris was hunched over like a dejected puppy as the questions kept coming. I needed to make him feel even more dejected.

"But it's not like it never happened, right?"

"That's true..."

"Do you know how to repay that?"

Chris raised his head, genuinely curious.

I spoke confidently. "By showing an incredible performance. Scoring goals every game and bringing joy every time. So people can find hope through you."

Chris's expression crumpled.

"Joy? Hope? What is this, a movie?"

"Why? Isn't it great?"

It is great. I expected him to be touched, so why was he reacting like this?

Chris grumbled. "That's nonsense. You have to play to do any of that."

"You can play. You have the talent to rise to at least a first-division starting level."

Perhaps my grand words were the problem, as doubt filled Chris's eyes, and his lips remained sealed.

Uh... What should I do?

Ding!

It was precisely midnight.

"It's past midnight."

I pretended to check my messages while verifying additional information about Chris.

[Chris Allen]

Appropriate Position (LW, RW, AMF, LM, RM, CM) Change in Abilities: ★★★★

What is this monster?

He might not measure up to Sebastian, but are they saying he could show rotation-level skills for Brighton if only he switched positions?

A third-string keeper in the third division suddenly playing as a field player in the second division?

His appropriate positions cover all second and third lines?

This guy has lost his mind!

I can't help it. I'm too greedy.

"I have a pretty good eye for talent. Right now, I'm just an interpreter, but later, I'm going to become a super agent surpassing Jorge Mendes, Mino Raiola, Jonathan Barnett, and Kia Joorabchian."

I said confidently.

Chris's face turned to one of disbelief.

"And I would love to have you as my client."

"Are you serious? Aren't you embarrassed to say that?"

"Not at all. I'm serious."

To be honest, I was a bit embarrassed. But it will happen. I will work hard towards that goal.

Of course, that's not now, but to acquire a top player, I need to show this level of ambition.

"I'm not saying we should sign a contract right away. I'm still at the bottom of this industry."

"Ah."

Chris had put down the bottle and was now listening to me.

"For now, I'm satisfied just talking with you. Oh, I have one personal question to ask."

"What is it?"

"What team do you want to join?"

Chris's face twisted. It's the question that most agents ask when they first meet players. I was asking it for the first time since entering the industry.

And Chris gave me the best answer.

"…Real Madrid."

One of the world's best clubs, known for its Galáctico policy, which collects only the best players. This is the level of ambition I was hoping for.

"Why are you laughing?"

Chris asked. Did he think I was mocking him? His lips poked out slightly.

"I'm just impressed with your ambition. Today was a holiday, and I don't regret a bit of it."

"…."

Was Chris embarrassed? He picked up the bottle again, trying to take a drink.

"Stop, you've had enough. We still have things to talk about."

It wasn't until five in the morning that I was able to return to Brighton.

The next day, while filming Sebastian's training, I received a call from Chris Allen.

I got a message from Gary during today's training.

"Really?"

Chris got straight to the point. Gary was the name that had come up during our talk last night.

I had asked Chris how he had come into contact with the broker.

It could be that he found them himself, or they reached out to him, but I suspected there was someone connecting them. If it were a club official, it would have made Chris's situation much more complicated.

The name that emerged here was Gary Butler.

I knew that name well; he was a midfielder who had played for the English national team at a mid-tier first-division club. He had gained a terrible reputation due to numerous assault incidents, but his talent was undeniable. Now, in his thirties, he had fallen to the third division and was now Chris's teammate.

I urged Chris to continue.

"Go on."

The brokers said they would kill you if they caught you. The gamblers are losing a lot.

"Not that..."

A chill ran down my spine for a moment. I had the feeling that Chris was smiling wickedly in front of his phone.

There's a limit to jokes.

It's not a joke.

"Really?"

Yes, they were really angry. And they said they'd take a break for a while. The cheering messages were so strange that the club, FA, and police have started investigations. Several people have asked me about it.

Oh no, I really messed up.

So they said they would contact me later through Gary. I told them I understood and would wait for the next case.

"Did you act well?"

In front of Gary Butler, that is. But Chris hesitated.

Acting...

"Do you still want to? Even after being found out by your sister and friends?"

I was born first, you know?

Chris let out a big sigh.

Let's cut the nonsense. Honestly, I don't really know. I still haven't figured out how to make a living. It's not that I don't care.

"I'm really glad you're not lying."

Are you being sarcastic now?

"…."

It seems like Gary is trying to test me, which is a headache...

"Really?"

Chris said he suspected that Gary Butler might think I, the mysterious Asian, was someone related to him. He was trying to turn the question back to himself, but his intent was so obvious that he had just deflected it.

"Yeah... Good job."

Now, I had one more person to avoid.

"Anyway, if you get a call from them, let me know too."

Got it. But what will you do if I tell you? Can I trust you?

"Yeah. Just trust me. Once your main job is stable, I'll seriously help you."

Despite still looking skeptical, Chris eventually answered, "I understand," and hung up.

I didn't put my phone down and searched for another Allen in my contacts. It was the number I had received when I left Chris's house yesterday.

[Erin Allen]

"Sorry for calling in the morning. Has anything happened with Chris?"

No. I'm at the training ground, and nothing unusual has happened.

I asked a few more questions and said I'd appreciate their help in the future.

I thought you were a strange person, but you really care. Thank you.

"Yeah, I appreciate it too. Call me every day to let me know what Chris is up to. What if he lies to me?"

Sure thing. But can I break a few of his teeth first?

"...Do as you please."

I asked Erin Allen, Chris's twin, to keep an eye on Chris's movements. I couldn't completely trust him after just one night of drinking. Money is a dangerous tool that can shake even the most steadfast people.

Earlier that morning, after talking for a while, Chris passed out from the alcohol. After that, he found Erin Allen, who had been awake all night with bloodshot eyes in the kitchen, and asked her for help. Erin Allen had asked without much curiosity, "Why do you care about Chris?"

I confidently replied, "Because Chris is going to be a world-class player." Erin Allen stared at me with a dumbfounded expression and then, thinking I was a strange person, gave me her number.

That's how we ended up in a cooperative relationship.

I hung up the call with Erin Allen and adjusted the camcorder to continue filming Sebastian's recovery training.