12 – Fake Protagonist
012
Alda Guler, boasting a robust figure, managed to squeeze her double-sized buttocks into the chair with some difficulty.
“Ugh… damn it. It’s ridiculously hot here, and the chair is too narrow! I’m worried about getting up… well, my Southeast Asian friends will take care of it.”
Leaning back in her chair, Alda Guler took a bite of her hotdog.
Squeak— The chair making a loud creaking noise was not a sign that it was about to happen, but rather an indication that it might break at any moment.
However, like a confident Turkish man, Alda Guler swallowed another hotdog, dismissing such trivial concerns.
“Hmm. The hotdog is decent.”
Crunch.
After licking the sauce off her fingers, she reached out for the next enemy.
Passing by numerous snacks piled on the adjacent chair, Alda, holding a popcorn container placed somewhat carelessly under the chair, began crushing her opponents with enthusiasm.
Crackle, crackle.
Whaja-jak, whaja-jak.
“Let’s see. 10 minutes left until the match starts… Alright, alright.”
After passionately crushing the opponents for a while, Arda, now somewhat satisfied with his hunger, slid his greasy fingers over the tablet screen.
A white rectangle with a round red dot beneath the logo brought up images of boys in blue uniforms.
“This generation’s Japanese national team is quite impressive. Yeah, not bad at all. That’s why I suggested paying attention to Japan instead of Korea. I’ve explored Korea enough. Now it’s time to focus on Japan. Yeah.”
Arda Güler, who had been the scout for Korea at Fenerbahçe, had been advocating for years to shift attention from Korea to Japan.
Until when would they cling to Kim Min-jae alone?
That was a kind of dilemma.
If a Chinese-backed altcoin, in which he invested heavily, recorded a tremendous surge, yielding significant profits, and soon became a globally recognized coin, would the person who tasted success merely squander the money?
Even if one squandered money, it was likely that the taste of success would linger, and they would find themselves once again wandering the coin market.
That’s what happened to Fenerbahçe.
After the rise of Kim Min-jae’s coin, Fenerbahçe, now a prominent faction in the Turkish Süper Lig, intensified its efforts to acquire Korean players.
There were indeed players in Korea who could hold their own even in Europe.
Not many, but not very few either.
However, surprisingly, Korea had a relatively high salary system.
Not to mention Eastern Europe, the salary level was higher than that of financially vulnerable clubs in the top 4 European leagues, excluding the English Premier League—Germany, Spain, and Italy’s top divisions.
Of course, salary and skill did not necessarily proportionate, but for a K-League player of a certain level, there was a high likelihood of success in the Turkish league.
But that’s not what Fenerbahçe wanted.
They didn’t want a player who, with a huge transfer fee and salary, would showcase their abilities in a foreign country, with unfamiliar culture, league, coach, teammates, tactics, and situations. Who could guarantee that? If that were the case, it would be better to sign a player from their own country or culturally close European players.
What Fenerbahçe wanted was an altcoin surge.
Of course, the miracle of an altcoin surge didn’t happen again. If it happened multiple times, would it still be a miracle?
Around the time Fenerbahçe’s interest in acquiring Korean players waned, the adjacent altcoin Japan hit the headlines with a spectacular performance in the FIFA U-17 World Cup, reaching the semi-finals!
It was natural for Arda Güler, who had consistently drawn attention to Japan amid the signs of a new surge that occurred around the time interest in East Asia was waning, to be noticed.
Arda Güler, who had been the scout for Korea, was promoted to the scout for East Asia. The first target pursued after the organization’s expansion and restructuring was the key player and ace who led Japan to the U-17 World Cup semi-finals.
Among Japan’s young generation known as the Golden Generation, Hitaru Daijoubu stood out, displaying outstanding talent and receiving idol treatment as the “Urawa Prince.”
“If the transfer fee is hefty, he might as well be a striker.”
Arda Güler’s eyes, happily laughing with a full belly, focused on Hitaru, who just caught the ball for the first time after the game started, and the young player showcased his usual aggressive forward play.
Facing him as he started dribbling was Korea’s number 18.
“Oh ho~ Is this the ignition? Show me what you’ve got. Show me your skills, Japanese! Come on, go ahead…”
What’s this?
Why was it taken away so easily?
From Noble mtl dot com
And on top of that—
“Wh-what’s with that insane pass!!”
Startled, he jumped up, causing the snacks and drinks he had placed on his knees to spill all over.
Sizzle— Thud!!
And the chair too.
“Ahem. I can’t use this chair anymore. I should move to another spot.”
Muttering to himself as he glanced around, Arda Kyuler could see it.
“That’s Celtic’s Smith Paul. Rodrigo…? I heard he moved to Hetafe. Oh? Even to Chelsea?”
In common, everyone was surprised, and Arda Kyuler realized it.
“Kim Minjae has emerged again in Korea!”
The chaotic scene was not in Korea but in Japan.
* * *
This generation’s Japanese national team is called the ‘Golden Generation’ and is dominating the attention of the nation.
Initially, the interest was just about having many noticeable players in this generation. However, it all spread throughout Japan after the FIFA U-17 World Cup held two years ago.
Although Asia continued to treat Japan as a step below on the global stage, the young Japanese players made a splash in the U-17 World Cup for players aged 17 and under.
While there were many talks within Japan that “this generation is different,” the Japanese people, who didn’t have much expectation, were thrilled when the Japanese national team showed remarkable performance and reached the semi-finals in the U-17 World Cup.
Even foreign media considered them strong contenders for the title based on their performance. The momentum of Japan at that time can be understood by the fact that, apart from losing to the eventual champions Germany 2-3 in the semi-finals, they didn’t suffer any major setbacks.
Regrettably, they faced another strong contender, Germany, in the semi-finals and lost 2-3 after a fierce struggle. However, except for one player who was considered the worst in the Germany match among the best eleven of the Japanese national team at that time, the remaining ten players became heroes.
Tying together ten players including the ‘Prince of Kanto’ Shimizu Ken, the ‘Giraffe of Yokohama’ Moribayashi Genjin, and the ‘Captain of Shikoku’ Tabuchi Masahiro, they were called the ‘Ten Blades.’
Although they were all emerging as top prospects not only in Japan but also in Europe, among them, the most prominent player was ‘Urawa’s Prince’ Hotaru Dajobo.
Since his youth, it was widely known among officials that “this player is different!” His potential was so well-known that he made his J-League debut at the young age of 17 while honing his skills at Urawa Red Diamonds, the most popular club in Japan.
With a playing style that enthralled people with the speed and dribbling typical of a football striker, coupled with decent looks, he was undoubtedly the idol of the nation.
Indeed, in this Under-20 Asian Cup, the player who received the most expectations and attention was none other than Hotaru Dajobo.
And Hotaru Dajobo, the ‘Prince of Urawa,’ was staring at a Korean player standing next to him in the entrance corridor of the ground.
“Is this guy Juji? Hmm… he’s cute as his name suggests. …Not cute in terms of size, though.”
As the match approached, Hotaaru, with a calm expression devoid of any tension, his handsome face even in his own eyes, and his towering height, tilted his head confidently on his thin neck.
“Is he really Korea’s dribbler?”
“……??”
Even the indifferent glance he threw.
Perfect! Absolutely perfect, this guy!
“I realized it watching the Vietnam match. Tied to the center back, but you, too, are an untamed wild horse on the ground. Just like me!”
That’s why Hotaaru extended his hand with genuine admiration.
“I am Japan’s ace, Prince Urawa, the best sword among the ten, Hotaaru Dajoubu.”
Certainly, a Korean is the perfect rival for a Japanese!
If the hearts align as rivals, even if the language doesn’t, they would surely understand each other’s intentions!
Ju Ji-tae, who was limbering up in the entrance corridor, rolled his eyes at the blatant gazes felt from the side.
“No. 9. That Japanese guy is the ace.”
The name was Hotaaru Dajoubu or something.
…How can someone’s name be Dajoubu?
“Oh. Damn, he’s staring at me so oppressively. What the hell. Is it a staring contest?”
If Ju Ji-tae were really a teenager, he might have stared back in defiance, but Ju Ji-tae, with a 16-year career veteran who had been through thick and thin, found the squabbles of a mere teenager amusing.
“What are you glaring at? What can you do, you punk?”
With a meaning that conveyed this, he chuckled, and instead of a bright smile, the guy responded.
“Sasuga Kankoku-jin doribura!”
“What the heck is ‘bura’? Doribura? What’s that? I know the national bra, Ebra, but doribura… Ah, don’t tell me dribble?”
He was momentarily confused, but Ju Ji-tae, with 16 years of professional experience, had been through countless battles.
“Out of nowhere, dribble here… Oh, right. He saw the Vietnam match dribble.”
Damn kids.
Responding to fans moved by his hurricane dribble is the virtue of a superstar.
Ju Ji-tae chuckled.
Upon that, an enthusiastic fan shouted passionately.
“Wadashi wa Nihon no E-su! Urawa Ooji, Puri Mera Espada Hotaaru Dajoubu da yo!!”
“……”
No matter how much Ju Ji-tae, with 16 years of pro playing experience in four countries and four leagues, was proficient in English, German, and Spanish, Japanese was not among them.
Of course, he was not a complete stranger. His connection with (inside the monitor) Japanese girlfriends was thicker than his football career.
However, the Japanese he learned from there was only limited to “Oh, manko na yamette, kimochi” level.
But no matter how you think about it, this doesn’t seem right.
Unless a bullet hits you in the head, everyone can tell that AV dialogue is far from everyday conversation.
So, Joo Ji-tae responded in Japanese that sounded like something he had heard somewhere before.
“Ah, kimodti~”
“Nanit…?”
After all, half of Korean is still Japanese.
