#86

“Yes. Yes, it’s that bastard from Daily One. But I met him simply because we’re personally acquainted; absolutely nothing like what you’re thinking was discussed! Everyone knows he was fired for doing something stupid before, so it’s definitely not an atmosphere where people are defending him!”

Coach Yoo protested quickly.

“This is so unfair, CEO! I feel like I want to take a lie detector test right now just to show you!”

Perhaps truly feeling wronged, Yoo Gu-hwan thumped his chest repeatedly as he spoke. However, Jung-hyun’s expression remained devoid of even a shred of warmth.

“Have you ever exchanged money for something other than match-fixing?”

“Pardon?”

“Has that ever happened?”

“…….”

As if caught off guard, Coach Yoo clamped his mouth shut like a clam and began to shift his eyes frantically.

It seemed there was something, but Coach Yoo had no intention of opening his mouth. Jung-hyun let out a long sigh. The sudden surge of stress made his head throb.

“Coach Yoo. Do you not realize how much of a mercy it is that I am meeting with you privately right now?”

“…No, I mean. CEO.”

“Or shall we just go to the police station? I think that would be more convenient for me as well.”

When Jung-hyun growled the threat, Coach Yoo finally opened his mouth.

“I—I did! I received it. But that had absolutely nothing to do with match-fixing, it was just a private matter… you see.”

Kwon Jung-hyun slowly closed and opened his eyes as if trying to suppress his anger.

“From whom?”

The voice that followed, stammering, grew smaller and smaller as if he were aware of his guilt.

To summarize, he had received a request to select a specific player for the upcoming World Championships after the league ended. Coach Yoo Gu-hwan was also part of the Korean national team’s coaching staff.

“It’s because you don’t know how this world works, CEO. What are kids who’ve done nothing but exercise their whole lives supposed to do for a living after retiring in their thirties? They need at least the title of a national team member to make a decent living.”

Jung-hyun didn’t listen further and replied coldly.

“Coach Yoo, you are dismissed from your position as coach as of today.”

“What…?! CEO! How could you do this! Do you know how hard it is to play sports in Korea? Everyone knows about this and turns a blind eye! Otherwise, everyone would end up on the streets!”

Seeing him go this far, it seemed true that it wasn’t match-fixing. However, it was a mistake to think he would just let it slide.

“As you said, Coach Yoo, I might be saying this because I don’t know the inner workings of this industry.”

“Yes, that’s why…!”

“But not in my club. I have no intention of tolerating such things. Especially if it’s done by someone who is the head coach of my club.”

“……No, I mean….”

“Did it ever occur to you that because of the money you receive, a player who could have earned that spot through skill is unfairly excluded? Then what about that person’s job after retirement? If they don’t have the money to bribe you, they’ll have no choice but to end up on the streets, just as you said.”

“CEO…!”

“I’m asking how you can claim to care for the players while taking bribes for personal gain!”

Jung-hyun shouted, the veins in his neck bulging.

As Yoo Gu-hwan fell silent, his face flushing red and purple, an uncomfortable silence filled the car. Jung-hyun spoke again, his face still cold.

“We’re done talking. Get out.”

Yoo Gu-hwan got out, slamming the car door as if trying to break it. Thinking he wouldn’t be heard, the sound of him hurling curses reached inside the car.

Left alone in the car, Jung-hyun stared at the front windshield without blinking.

If Yoo Gu-hwan’s match-fixing wasn’t true, were the photos and the tip-off merely for blackmail?

Even so, the existence of Kim In-jung remained a thorn in his side, bothering him. Was it truly a coincidence that the two of them were in the same place on the day the photos were taken?

Could someone who knew that Yoo Gu-hwan usually took bribes have orchestrated it so the photos would be taken?

Since they claimed to have ‘clear evidence,’ they might have recorded the conversation between Coach Yoo and the other party or filmed the scene of him receiving money.

Even if the money Yoo Gu-hwan received truly had nothing to do with match-fixing, as long as there was clear evidence of him receiving money, manipulating the context would be a piece of cake. In these matters, regardless of the truth, the mere emergence of an allegation is fatal.

Then, was it also Kim In-jung who had the photos taken and sent the tip-off?

If it was Kim In-jung, he had been fired from Daily One and unable to work as a reporter again, so it was plausible he would hold a grudge against the club and Jung-hyun.

“…….”

No. That wasn’t a sufficient explanation.

What the informant wanted was Kwon Jung-hyun’s removal. But how would Jung-hyun’s removal benefit Kim In-jung?

Just to enjoy the feeling of revenge once? It would have been more practical to demand money and make a decent profit.

Then, was it the other people who were there? As soon as the thought occurred, Jung-hyun shook his head slightly.

Since they were all former players, it was highly likely they were in a position to help each other with Yoo Gu-hwan. There was no way they would do something to trip themselves up.

Then who?

‘CEO Kwon, do you have some grudge against someone?’

“…….”

When he heard those words from the Association President, his mind had been so full of the thought that Yoo Gu-hwan might have been involved in match-fixing that he hadn’t paid attention.

Someone who holds a grudge against him.

At a certain premonition, his fingertips turned cold, and simultaneously, a series of short vibrations rang out from his pocket.

Kwon Ki-hyuk

Happy New Year, little brother.

I wonder if my gift has arrived by now?

* * *

It was nearly midnight by the time Jung-hyun arrived at the address sent by Kwon Ki-hyuk.

After pulling the handbrake, Jung-hyun looked up at the building from inside the car.

It was a secluded spot near a golf resort owned by Myeong-jeong, about 400 meters away from the resort’s main building.

In front of the building, well-manicured lawns and a golf driving range stretched out, and behind it, fir trees laden with snow grew thick. Unlike the brightly lit resort area, this place, which exuded a bleak atmosphere, was the private golf practice range and villa used by Kwon Ki-hyuk.

In other words, not a single thing that happened here was beyond Kwon Ki-hyuk’s reach. Deleting or manipulating footage from a specific date on the CCTV would be nothing.

A sharp pain was felt on the back of his hand. Startled, he looked down to find he had been unconsciously scratching the back of his hand. He must have kept picking at the wound, as blood finally appeared.

Clenching his fist, Jung-hyun turned off the engine and got out of the car. As he exhaled, a pure white breath shattered before his eyes. It was a night where the wind touching his cheeks and neck was piercingly cold. Jung-hyun closed the car door and put the key in his pocket.

He looked up and gauged the path leading to the villa’s entrance. It looked dauntingly far. With every step he took, pitch-black darkness pooled beneath his feet.

Didn’t he look exactly like a mouse rolling into a jar? That thought occurred to him just before the entrance.

Jung-hyun entered the password provided by Kwon Ki-hyuk and opened the door. The hallway was dim, and from the stairs leading to the basement, the sounds of people laughing and thumping music were faintly audible. Jung-hyun began to walk toward the noise.

It was around the time Jung-hyun had almost finished descending the stairs that he began to hear a dissonant noise mixed in with the music.

It was a dull, heavy thud of something colliding. It sounded exactly like someone striking a human skull. At the eerie feeling, Jung-hyun’s footsteps stopped, then slowly resumed.

The moment he stepped off the last stair, he realized the identity of the dissonant noise. It was the sound of a golf ball hitting a practice screen. A golf ball rolling across the floor brushed against Jung-hyun’s toes.

A man who was putting down a golf club spotted Jung-hyun and widened his eyes. He was a man with a handsome face, wearing strangely suggestive clothing.

Amidst the loud music pounding his eardrums, he could see the man’s lips moving as he said something. It looked like he was pronouncing ‘Vice President.’ Jung-hyun turned his head in the direction the man was looking.

The interior of the massive studio-like basement space was decorated like a high-end bar with a golf practice range. There were large sofas and tables arranged in a ‘U’ shape so one could watch the golf screen, along with various types of liquor bottles.

Regardless of the air conditioner running constantly, the air was hazy and acrid from how much they had smoked, and the floor was sticky.

Kwon Ki-hyuk was leaning back in the seat of honor on the sofa, accompanied by robust men and women with tanned skin.

“You’re here?”

Kwon Ki-hyuk’s eyes curved into a smile. He then gestured to the woman sitting next to him, giving an instruction. Soon, the loud volume decreased.

Ignoring the questioning gazes pouring over him, Jung-hyun looked straight at Kwon Ki-hyuk.

“Those photos, did you send them, Vice President?”

“Ah. How were they? They came out pretty well, right?”

Kwon Ki-hyuk gave a light affirmation and gestured for the man who had been practicing golf to come over. He saw the man with the handsome face take the seat next to Ki-hyuk.

“Our little brother must be suffering a lot. Having such a headache of a guy on the team.”

Kwon Ki-hyuk spoke in a pitying tone while kneading the area between the waist and buttocks of the man sitting next to him.

“I heard the entire club could disappear if match-fixing is caught? What a shitty situation. Considering how much effort our little brother put into acquiring that club, all because of one loach.”

Jung-hyun spoke with a stiff face.

“…I will buy all of those photos. So please, do not touch the club.”

“What? I can’t hear you.”

“Please do not touch the club. …I’m asking you, Vice President.”

87 – Puck Drop