All Football Abilities Are Mine! Chapter 1: Restart (1)

When I was young, my father used to ask sothing during dinner from ti to ti.

"Ho-young, what's your dream?"

I answered, "I want to be a football player. I want to beco a great player like Park Ji-sung."

Then my father would smile and say,

"To beco a football player, you need talent. And from what I've seen, our Ho-young has sothing special."

He was right.

At one point, I really believed what my father said.

That I was gifted.

Even the people in our neighborhood all said the sa thing.

"Ho-young is a football prodigy. You should train him professionally."

It was 2002.

During the feverish days following Korea's legendary semifinal run in the World Cup, interest in football was at an all-ti high. I beca one of those kids who carried all the adults' hopes as I chased the ball around the field.

But later, I realized sothing.

That being called a football prodigy was nothing more than a hollow illusion.

When I joined the football club in third grade, I felt a massive wall in front of .

There were kids far better than .

Kids who had received professional coaching, at a level I couldn't even compare to.

On top of that, I was small. I would get knocked over before I could even touch the ball.

Then one day, the coach said to ,

"Ho-young, go over there and train separately."

That group was where all the underperforming kids were sent.

I was scared.

It felt like an insurmountable wall was blocking my path.

My passion faded, and I quit the team like I was running away.

I gave up.

When I got ho, I cried my eyes out.

My father comforted and said,

"Ho-young, every flower blooms in its own ti. Just because a sprout cos up early doesn't an the flower will bloom early too."

At the ti, I didn't understand what he ant.

I just felt relieved that I no longer had to face my fears. I brushed it off as I gnawed on the seasoned fried chicken my mother had bought .

But now, looking back, I feel so much more.

What if I hadn't given up back then?

Did I really have talent?

If I had worked myself to the bone, would I have finally blood and borne fruit?

"Damn it."

"Hey, Ho-bbang, what's with you muttering to yourself? Are you drunk already?"

A cozy traditional pub.

Lost in thought, Ho-young clinked his dented bowl-shaped cup against that of his old elentary school friend, Lee Yong-soo.

"It's nothing. Anyway, congratulations on the job."

"You already congratulated earlier."

"Well, when else would I get to celebrate? You've got to say it as much as you can when good things happen."

They were there to celebrate Yong-soo's achievent.

The guy, who still played football, had just been recruited by a semi-professional team.

"Haa..."

The alcohol tasted bitter.

It was 2016, and at twenty-four, he was just working part-ti at a convenience store. Seeing his best friend move up in the world made his chest feel tight for no clear reason.

"I wanted to be a football player too..."

Damn it. I shouldn't have quit back then.

"If I'd kept playing, I'd be playing alongside Ronaldo and ssi by now."

"Yeah, right. Don't talk nonsense. In that case, I'd already have a Ballon d'Or, idiot. What's the point of regretting it now? It's too late."

From elentary school to now, Ho-young had always lived with regret.

He should've never let football end as just a hobby. He should've never run away back then.

It was a lifelong regret.

Of course, there had been chances to try again later.

But each ti, the thought that it was already too late stopped him.

"I want to go back. Back to the past. I want to start over... Damn it!"

While Ho-young was cursing himself internally, Yong-soo, who was fiddling with his phone, suddenly spoke up.

"Hey, want to go kick the ball around? Sang-ho said they're short two players. 4-on-4 futsal."

"Right now?"

He looked outside. It was raining steadily.

But it didn't matter.

Ho-young was crazy about football.

"Sure, I'm in."

"Yo, long ti no see!"

When Ho-young arrived at a nearby outdoor futsal field, he greeted his old classmates.

They were all kids he used to play with since elentary school, but one of them imdiately caught his attention.

'That jerk, Yoon Jung-ho, not even saying hi.'

Yoon Jung-ho.

A forr player, talented enough to have once won the Cha Bum-kun Football Award.

People used to say he might follow in the footsteps of Park Joo-hyung, but his career ended due to injury.

He and Ho-young had clashed several tis in the past, and it seed Jung-ho still held a grudge.

Ho-young decided to just ignore him.

"Hey, it's raining harder. Why didn't you book an indoor court?"

"They're all full. Let's play quickly before it gets worse."

The match started right away.

The rule was simple: 4-on-4, first to 5 goals wins.

"Hey, Ho-bbang! You're up front!"

"Okay."

As always, Ho-young played as the striker.

Even in his father's amateur football club, he was known as a reliable goal-getter.

He'd never trained professionally, but both his stamina and technique were above average.

He could hold his own in most gas.

But against a forr professional, he didn't stand a chance.

"Argh!"

Just as Ho-young created a clear scoring chance, Jung-ho appeared out of nowhere and intercepted the ball like lightning.

Then he smirked, curling one corner of his mouth in mockery.

'That bastard...'

The sa thing happened again and again.

Jung-ho deliberately left space open, then used his speed to steal the ball every ti.

It was predictable, but impossible to stop.

A forr pro was on another level.

But Ho-young actually welcod this.

Real, competitive football.

'Yoon Jung-ho, today I'll break through you no matter what.'

The more his attacks were blocked, the more determined he beca.

Seeing that, Jung-ho taunted him openly.

"Pathetic level of play."

Ho-young sneered.

And then, suddenly.

Thud!

Jung-ho fired the ball straight at Ho-young.

The spinning ball struck his knee and bounced out of the pitch.

Unable to hold it in, Ho-young charged at him.

"Don't ss with , you jerk!"

Though only 170 cm tall, Ho-young had never been the type to back down.

As the situation threatened to turn into a fight, the others quickly stepped in to stop them.

"Sigh... Fine, I'll let it go. Go get the ball. It went out off your leg."

"Idiot."

Muttering under his breath, Ho-young walked off to retrieve the ball.

Through the falling rain, the ball lay there alone.

Just as he reached out to grab it.

"...?!"

A blinding flash of light erupted.

"Aaaaargh!!"

Boom!

Thunder roared across the Seoul night sky.

And just like that, Ho-young was struck dead by lightning.

"Aaaaaaaaah!"

Killed by lightning.

He had once heard that about 200 people in the U.S. died every year from lightning strikes. And now, he had beco one of those impossible statistics. Of course, he scread in outrage.

It was unfair.

He hadn't even done anything with his life yet.

How could soone die so suddenly?

"Give it back! Give my life back!!"

After crying for a while, a question popped into his head.

"Then... where am I?"

The futsal pitch was gone.

All that remained was a pitch-black void.

And then, through the darkness, a faint, pale figure began to take shape.

"Hehehe."

A chilling voice whispered in his ear.

"Don't tell ... you're a demon or sothing?"

"How perceptive."

"Well... you look like one."

"Correct. I am the demon of greed. People call Mammon."

Just like that, Mammon appeared and whispered.

"How about making a deal with ?"

"..."

Ho-young needed ti to think.

He couldn't just jump into a deal with a demon.

And more than that, he could hardly believe what was happening.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

"Let's hear it first."

"Good. You can make two kinds of deals with . First, ti. Second, power."

Ti and power.

Mammon explained both clearly.

First, ti.

"You can turn back the clock. A minimum of ten years, up to a maximum of twenty-three. You can return to the past."

"Oh..."

"But, of course, there is a price. Nothing in this world cos for free."

"What's the price?"

"For every year you go back, you lose one year of your lifespan. If you go back twenty-three years, you will die twenty-three years earlier in your next life. However, no one knows when exactly you will die."

"Haha... what perfect balance."

Ho-young nodded readily.

'As long as it's not sothing like impotence or baldness, I'm fine. Besides, it's the age of longevity, right? Living a short but intense life until eighty doesn't sound so bad...'

Of course, there was no guarantee he'd live that long, but he decided to think positively.

"Then what's the second one? The power?"

"I will grant you my ability."

A demon's ability. It was an enticing offer.

"What kind of ability?"

"Greed."

"Greed?"

"The power to obtain what you desire."

"Hmm..."

Just hearing it wasn't enough to understand. He would have to experience it firsthand.

'Still, if it lets obtain sothing I desire... that's basically a free gift!'

Ho-young's eyes glead.

'This isn't a deal, it's a charity donation!'

Mammon spoke again.

"Now then, tell . Which point in ti do you wish to return to?"

"Haha... It sounds crazy, but if this is really true, then I..."

(To be continued.)

This is the start of our new football fic. Hopefully, you'll all stick with it until the end, like SWR, because this is also a really good book. You might have read other versions of this. I have checked most out, and they are simply ughhh, let's not speak. And with SWR speaking for , you can be rest assured I am going to finish this no matter what.

I am really looking forward to your incredible support once again.

Special thanks to DragonnX for providing the full RAW for this : )