We started off with a scrum to loosen up.
It was me, Tennessee, and Jack on our team.
The opposition was the same as last time, Bob and two other big guys over 190 cm tall.
We ended up losing five times in a row.
But during what we thought was the last, the sixth match.
Right there.
Ugagaga!
We unleashed a fiery fighting spirit!
Thud.
Boom.
We finally managed to break them down.
Looking back, I'm not sure if we really won with our true skills…
Or if they just let us win because there was a match the next day, to boost our morale.
However, the morale boost was evident.
Not just for us three in the scrum.
Even the four preparing for the game felt their spirits soar.
Riding that mood, we immediately continued with a practice match.
Perhaps we were too excited.
Just in the first half, the score was 0 to 5.
We faced a dismal score.
Through sheer determination and focusing in the second half, we managed to score two goals.
Think of it as a soccer match where we lost 2 to 5.
Clearly, it's a defeat.
But considering our last match was a 0 to 9 disaster, and considering our opponent was almost like playing against Brazil…
We had to see it as some kind of achievement.
And indeed it was.
After the game, Steve's reaction was noticeably different.
"Look at this? That kick wasn't ordinary, was it?"
I kicked so hard every night, of course.
It wasn't just me who had changed.
"Tennessee is also fully in shape now."
Smirk.
He ran with me every day, after all.
Now, all that's left is to reap the fruits of our efforts!
"Rest well for the remaining time. Managing your condition is also a skill."
"Will you come tomorrow?"
"Of course. I have to see that food get crushed."
After Steve's words, I smiled happily.
"Right. I forgot to tell you earlier…"
"…?"
"Ultimate's new product. I heard it's being distributed to the freshmen members."
His eyes widened in surprise.
Maybe if it were a car.
Steve isn't the type to covet clothes.
But if it's a rugby shirt, that's a different story.
Knowing this, I asked him casually.
"Do you need mine?"
"What?"
"I'll play in it and wash it for you. I heard it's a special edition not for sale."
"…!"
His eyes wavered momentarily, maybe thinking it wrong to covet a student's belongings.
He shook his head firmly.
"Ah, how can I take yours? Never mind…"
"Why can't you accept mine?"
"Huh?"
"You've seen my car."
"Yeah, I've seen it. A Bugatti."
Driving a car worth over a hundred million.
Would he really cling to a rugby shirt?
After all, he's the one who teaches me kicks, encourages me the day before a tournament…
Can't I do at least this much for him?
Reading my gaze, Steve…
"…"
Was at a loss for words, just scratching his head helplessly.
***
An hour later.
Perhaps because he heard the reporters were preparing to leave, Carl quickly headed to the field.
Pretending to warm up, he ran across the ground.
Click, click!
Numerous cameras focused solely on Carl.
'If it's going to be on the news anyway…'
Carl ran, pushing his chest out to make the brand logo as visible as possible.
The whole nation would see it.
'The advertising effect would be killer.'
You guys, treating me like a villain now?
The noble Grosvenor family being suppressed by a wicked villain.
But you know what?
Life is such that the bad guys often live better.
Carl, as if posing for a photoshoot, circled the stadium and then returned to the dorm smoothly.
Despite his vigilance for any hidden reporters, he found none.
"Tch, none here."
He swallowed his disappointment as he walked through the empty hallway.
Just as Carl was about to enter his room, craving for attention, a paper bag fell to the floor.
"What's this?"
It seemed someone had slipped a letter between the door.
Expecting a fan letter, he opened it only to curse as an unexpected name popped out.
"Gilbert McGill?"
A lawyer who had been dismissed for his poor performance, why him?
Perhaps he came across some useful information.
It seems he might be seeking employment after all.
Snicker.
"Talking about reemployment, he's lost it."
Trash belongs in the trash can, just waiting to be collected once all its uses are drained…
As he read on with a sneer, suddenly, Carl's face completely crumpled.
[I delayed telling you this during my tenure, fearing the uproar, but now I have no responsibilities, so I can speak freely. The Queensman stores, the magazines that stir up attention with each publication, and even Ultimate, which has led trends for months—all the achievements you wished to claim, were in fact all due to Mr. Park Ji-hoon. In other words, all your efforts were merely following in Mr. Park Ji-hoon's footsteps.]
'What is this nonsense? The stores, the magazines, Ultimate, Tennessee did all that to spite me!'
But the enclosed documents…
"…!"
They directly contradicted Carl's thoughts.
"This can't be true."
A younger guy… without any family support… accomplished all that?
"You expect me to believe that?"
Whether Carl believes it or not, every piece of evidence strongly confirmed that it was all Park Ji-hoon's planning.
"No, damn it! Who the hell is this guy!"
Carl tore Gilbert's letter to shreds.
"So what now!"
Really thinks he can beat me in real rugby?
This arrogant jerk.
"Do it! Try me!"
Furious to his core, Carl screamed.
"Aaaaaah!"
He threw a chair in frustration.
Crash!
He ended up completely smashing a perfectly good door.
***
That night, I finished showering and lay down in my room.
It was about time to sleep, yet,
"Is it because there's a match tomorrow?"
Various thoughts wouldn't leave my mind.
"Rugby is just the beginning."
If the Gucci collaboration succeeds, Tennessee's borrowed district will form a completely new commercial area.
It might become the hippest street in London.
As the perception that department stores are outdated spaces begins to spread among the younger generation.
"It will surely impact the Harris family too."
The problem is how to start off right…
My thoughts spiraled, reaching up to tomorrow's match.
It's true that I've prepared diligently enough not to be embarrassed.
However,
The opponent is Carl Bernstein, who could debut as a professional right away!
How should I block him, various patterns came to mind.
"I need to sleep, but there's so much on my mind…"
I might end up staying up all night!
Just as I tried to force myself to sleep by tossing and turning,
Ring!Ring!
Suddenly, the phone rang.
"Who could it be at this hour?"
I picked up the receiver, and a voice I was thrilled to hear came through.
(Boss, it's Jo So-deok. I'm waiting for my flight, took a moment to call you.)
"A flight?"
(You have a match tomorrow, don't you? Of course, I'm coming to support you.)
All that trouble.
(To watch your game! And to keep an eye on Faber's discipline!)
Ah, Faber.
Hehehe.
If there's one natural enemy of Faber, it would definitely be Jo So-deok.
After returning from New York, he'd be so strict he'd almost freeze for days.
(At this point, that guy is probably starting to slack off a bit. Plus, with an ad on the front page of the London Times, it wouldn't be surprising if he's already losing it.)
Even though he says that, he'll take great care of his junior like always.
About five minutes later, after we had chatted about various things—
(Boss, you can't sleep, can you?)
"How did you figure that out?"
(Come on, you're already known to be a perfectionist. If it's something that can be handled with logic, you'll calculate and solve it flawlessly. But sports? That's a bundle of variables in itself…)
So, it's strange that I'd be able to sleep given my personality?
Smirk.
It felt like he knew me better than I knew myself.
(Boss.)
"…?"
(Do you realize how much reassurance your name alone gives to others?)
Since it wasn't a question that required an answer—
"…"
I waited calmly for him to continue.
(Just look at me. Even if I don't fully understand your actions, I silently follow along, trusting that you have a plan. Because it's your decision.)
His voice, stripped of any humor, turned deeply serious.
(But sometimes I wonder… While I can push aside my fears by trusting you, what about you? How do you reassure yourself? That thought hit me hard.)
"…"
(It's a shame. While the name 'Park Ji-hoon' inspires trust in everyone else, you're the only one who doesn't seem to draw any comfort from it.)
"Should I change my name, then?"
I tried lightening the mood with a joke.
At that, Jo So-deok let out a small chuckle.
(You always do this, Boss. Even in lonely moments when you have no one to lean on, you just laugh it off.)
"You're not drunk, are you?"
Come to think of it, I do that even now—brushing things off with humor instead of dwelling on unsolvable worries.
By this point, Jo So-deok followed my lead and replied with humor.
(Now that you mention it, I am craving a drink. With the price of this flight, I should at least get my money's worth from the in-flight bar.)
After a brief pause, I broke the silence.
"Thank you. For remembering and calling me."
It was short, but my words carried sincerity.
I don't even remember what we talked about afterward.
Probably just some random chatter to fill the awkwardness.
Either way, I spent some time reflecting on Jo So-deok's words.
To sum it up, as much as others rely on me…
'It means I should believe in myself too.'
A warm piece of advice I'd never heard even once in my previous life.
Yeah, rugby or whatever!
What's there for someone living their second life to worry about?
'After smashing the sophomores to pieces…'
Tomorrow night, I'll have to join Jo So-deok in a celebratory toast (with cola), no doubt about it!
With a cheerful smile, I slipped under the covers.
And not long after,
"…"
I fell asleep as if it were a lie.
***
Match Day Morning – Bathroom
Swoosh!
Under the icy stream of the shower, Tennessee stood still for five minutes.
Waking up with cold water before a match was part of Tennessee's routine.
'Can't believe I'm doing this again.'
It had been a year since he left the field.
He thought he'd never return.
Not that he regretted it.
As a kid, he'd been forced to play by a private tutor.
'But maybe it's because I have a sort-of friend with me now.'
It definitely felt more fun than before.
"Hm."
Tennessee stared at his reflection in the mirror.
Unable to fully control his competitive spirit, he'd ramped up his workout regimen in a short time.
The once-slim silhouette of his body had completely vanished, replaced with bulging, intimidating muscles.
'Once the match is over, I need to cut down on this muscle.'
Tennessee pouted as if dissatisfied with what he saw.