Chapter 7: "Departure: A New Beginning Amid Adversity"

"Hmmmmm~."

As I came downstairs, my father was humming while eating his breakfast.

"Something good happen?"

I asked as I sat down at the table. My sister, who was eating next to him, shook her head and answered.

"He's looking for a house in Argentina to follow you."

"Already?"

"And he's looking at palace-like houses too. Want to see some pictures?"

There were still a few more months before I'd leave for Argentina, so I thought he'd start looking for houses next month, but he's moving pretty quickly.

Creak.

After finishing his meal, my father hurriedly stood up.

"I have a meeting, so I'll head out first! Min, take your time! Honey, have a great day! And you, my son, train hard!"

My mother watched his retreating figure with an expression of resignation.

"He's not saying much today?"

"It's not worth the effort."

My father was a professional in the culinary world.

At home, he might have ranked the lowest in terms of authority, but in the restaurant industry, he was a star chef whose name everyone recognized.

"Mom, aren't you upset? You originally planned to go with me."

"I wanted to go… but it wasn't easy."

Initially, it was my calm mother, not my enthusiastic father, who planned to accompany me. However, it was relatively easier to get a work visa in Argentina for the culinary industry.

The process for pharmacists was more complicated than for chefs.

So, it was decided that my father would go instead of my mother. From then on, he had been busy researching and preparing.

"It's okay. Mom, you need to stay here to take care of my sister."

At that, my sister stabbed a cherry tomato with her fork and chewed it slowly.

"Do you think I'm a kid like you? Most of my friends are already living on their own."

"You'd cry if both Mom and Dad decided to follow me."

"M-me?"

"Isn't that true?"

"…It's not!"

She flared up, but I knew her well.

My sister hated being lonely. If Mom and Dad both decided to leave, she'd undoubtedly cry her eyes out.

"Jiwoo, stop teasing your sister. Her face is about to explode."

"Okay, okay… Haha."

"Ugh! Stop teasing me!"

Seeing my sister fuming beside me made me laugh.

I should stop before she really starts crying.

"Argentina is more dangerous than South Korea, so it might be hard for you, Mom. Dad and I will handle the hardship, so you should stay here."

"When did our Jiwoo grow up like this?"

"I'm taller than my sister now."

"That's true."

"Ugh! I'm going to work!"

My sister got up and went upstairs. My mother gently stroked my hair.

Her touch was so warm it made me smile automatically.

"And one more thing."

"Yes?"

"Get me Javier's autograph."

"…Alright."

Not only my father, but my mother was also a diehard soccer fan.

---

A few days later, in a private room at my father's restaurant, I met with Rodrigo. With my father and Cha Myunghoon present, I signed the final contract.

"That's everything settled," Rodrigo said, glancing at Cha Myunghoon beside me.

"It took longer than expected."

The delay was because Cha Myunghoon had raised issues with several clauses in the contract.

Hearing Rodrigo's comment, Cha Myunghoon smiled and replied.

"Contracts should be approached with the utmost caution."

Cha Myunghoon was fluent in Spanish. In addition to Spanish, he was proficient in English, Italian, and German, handling all the communication.

"Well, the club did try to sneak in some strange clauses."

"Were you aware of that when you proposed the contract to Jiwoo?"

"…N-no! I didn't know! I was just as surprised when I found out!"

Rodrigo had been so delighted at the prospect of bringing the gem, Yoo Jiwoo, to Argentina that he hadn't scrutinized the contract closely.

The club had slipped in some problematic clauses, which Cha Myunghoon caught. Altering those clauses took time, and in the process, Rodrigo discovered the club's shady actions.

"What's this nonsense!" Rodrigo had roared.

— "Sorry, Rodrigo… It was the chairman's orders."

"Tell the chairman this: If he plans to play dirty games with the player, I'll destroy him!"

Thanks to Rodrigo standing on the player's side, the terms Jiwoo's camp proposed were swiftly agreed upon—a fact no one else was privy to.

"Well, in the end, everyone's happy with the terms. Welcome to Boca Juniors, rookie!"

Rodrigo laughed and extended his hand. Jiwoo shook it with an expressionless face.

"You won't regret it."

Everyone present was stunned by Jiwoo's words.

"You… since when could you speak Spanish?"

It was still difficult for him to form complete sentences, but what he said was in Spanish.

"Studying. Hard. Every day."

In Boca Juniors' youth team, only kids from Spanish-speaking regions spoke the language. Others took time to learn. Hearing that Jiwoo had already been studying Spanish before coming to Argentina made Rodrigo grin from ear to ear.

"Hahaha! I like this kid! I can't understand why South Korea tried to throw away such a gem!"

Though he spoke in broken phrases, Rodrigo understood perfectly and laughed even more.

---

After signing the contract, my time in South Korea flew by.

I trained individually at Chungbuk Football Club.

I studied Spanish for an hour daily on weekdays.

I also withdrew from Haewoon Middle School and began preparing for both the middle school and high school equivalency exams.

Six months passed, and I successfully cleared both the middle school and high school equivalency exams.

During that time, with the help of Cha Myunghoon and Boca Juniors, all preparations for the trip to Argentina, including the visa, were completed. Yoo Hanwoo left for Argentina a month earlier to get everything ready for our stay there.

"Son! See you in Argentina!"

One month after Yoo Hanwoo left, the morning of my departure from South Korea finally arrived.

---

Late October.

On the day of my departure, my mother and sister accompanied me to Incheon International Airport.

"Did you say goodbye to Uncle Chaun?"

"Yes, I visited him yesterday. He even gave me some spending money."

"Spending money?"

"He told me to buy some souvenirs. Jaemin said he wants to try that Argentinian chocolate pie called Havana."

With plenty of time before the boarding, we sat at a café, chatting over tea. As the departure time approached, my mother grew noticeably quieter. My sister, though silent, couldn't hide the worry on her face.

"Shall we go?"

When Cha Myunghoon, who had been preparing for our departure, approached, we left the café and headed toward the gate.

All the way to the gate, my mother's anxiety was palpable.

"Ma'am, I'll take care of Yoo Jiwoo. Please don't worry too much."

"I'm counting on you, Myunghoon."

"Yes, ma'am! I swear on my life, I'll ensure his safety!"

Cha Myunghoon's words offered some comfort to my mother.

At the gate, I hugged her tightly.

"I'll be back."

"Your dad knows your arrival time, so he'll be there to pick you up. If he causes any trouble, call me right away. I'll be on the next flight."

"... Isn't that usually the other way around?"

Then she held me tighter.

"If it gets tough, just say so. Don't keep it bottled up like before."

Her warm words.

"If you can't tell Mom or Dad, tell me. I can't fix it, but I can at least listen."

And my sister's.

They brought a smile to my face.

"And here."

She handed me a white envelope from her pocket, stuffed with Argentinian pesos.

"Use it for yourself. Don't let Dad get his hands on it."

I chuckled.

"Thanks, sis. I'll open a restaurant for you someday."

"Make it bigger than Dad's!"

"Got it. I'll make the biggest restaurant in Korea just for you."

As I was saying my last goodbyes, a reporter approached with a camera and microphone.

"Are you Yoo Jiwoo?"

"...Yes?"

The moment I saw the reporter, I felt an immediate sense of discomfort.

When he stepped closer, Cha Myunghoon intervened, blocking his path.

"This isn't a prearranged interview. Please leave."

"Just a few questions, please."

"As I said, we weren't informed about this, so please go. If you insist, we'll file a formal complaint against your media outlet."

Even with Cha Myunghoon's firm stance, the reporter persisted. I sighed, placing a hand on Myunghoon's shoulder.

"It's fine."

"There's no need to engage."

"I can't avoid them forever."

"...Understood. But if they overstep, I'll step in."

"Please do."

Cha Myunghoon reluctantly stepped back, glaring at the reporter.

"I'm on a tight schedule, so please be quick."

I kept my face blank and my tone cold.

The fact that a reporter came looking for me, someone who wasn't a professional player or even a high school student anymore, meant one thing:

Vice President Cha Sungin of the Football Association.

Or Coach Gu Jungtae of Seongcheon High School's soccer team.

One of them had undoubtedly orchestrated this.

The reporter swallowed nervously before asking his question.

"When did you start planning your move to Argentina?"

"A long time ago."

"Are you leaving because you couldn't make it in Korea?"

At the provocation, I burst out laughing.

"Hahahahaha!"

'How are they so predictable, these bastards?'

From the moment I saw the reporter, I knew I'd face such leading questions. And they didn't deviate even slightly from my expectations.

"Excuse me. Could you relay something for me?"

"Pardon?"

I wiped the smile off my face and looked the reporter dead in the eye.

"Watch closely."

"I'm sorry?"

"When I return to Korea—the person you tried to crush—I'll break that stiff neck of yours."

The reporter swallowed hard.

Turning on my heel, I headed toward the gate. Behind me, the reporter's flustered voice called out.

He probably intended to capture a timid, defeated photo of me for a sensational article.

"E-excuse me!"

"You!"

"Do you think I don't know the Vice President and Coach Gu sent you?"

Cha Myunghoon stepped forward, staring the reporter down.

"You're just going to write an article to make the public turn against him, right? So why don't you just leave now? Stop bothering our player."

Cha Myunghoon's imposing demeanor left the reporter speechless, and he eventually retreated.

"You'll face many more reporters like him."

"I'm ready."

"Good mindset."

I was used to being criticized—it had become a part of my life.

It still hurt a little, but what could I do?

No one, aside from my family and a few close friends, would believe the truth about me anyway.

For now, I had to focus on building something.

Something strong enough to withstand their schemes.

"Shall we go?"

"Yes."

And so, I left Korean soil.