Chapter 1
Jang Ik-deok
South Korea National Football Team
65 appearances, 27 goals, 3 assists
Seongnam — K League 2
2008 Season: 29 appearances, 21 goals, 2 assists
Suwon — K League 1
2009 Season: 31 appearances, 19 goals, 1 assist
2010 Season: 35 appearances, 33 goals, 4 assists
2011 Season: 18 appearances, 15 goals
Sheffield United — EFL Championship
2011/12 Season: 37 appearances, 25 goals, 2 assists
Bournemouth — Premier League
2012/13 Season: 30 appearances, 17 goals, 1 assist
Chelsea — Premier League
2013/14 Season: 39 appearances, 21 goals, 3 assists
2014/15 Season: 17 appearances, 8 goals, 4 assists
Bayern Munich — Bundesliga
2015/16 Season: 20 appearances, 11 goals, 2 assists
2016/17 Season: 19 appearances, 4 goals
Chelsea — Premier League [Loan]
2017/18 Season: 41 appearances, 24 goals, 3 assists
Liverpool — Premier League
2018/19 Season: 43 appearances, 30 goals, 8 assists
With such a spectacular career, Jang Ik-deok—a player who could be called the greatest footballer in Korean history, the undisputed G.O.A.T.—met his end in a traffic accident.
- Even when dying, he goes out in typical Jang Ik-deok fashion.
- Wasn’t he drunk driving?
- Sudden acceleration, my ass. LOL. Every time there’s an accident, people blame sudden acceleration. LOL.
- Britain should make pedal black boxes mandatory too. LOL. If there’d been one, he couldn’t have pulled that “sudden acceleration” crap.
- With that bastard’s personality, there’s no way it was sudden acceleration. Seriously, either he rammed the car in front because it pissed him off, or he was on drugs or alcohol. 100000% chance.
- Hey… no matter what, isn’t that a little harsh? He was our country’s GOAT.
- It pisses me off that a bastard like him was the GOAT.
- Worst personality, but the best skills…
- He had the talent of a demon. Personally, I’ll miss him.
- He’s only been dead for a day and you already miss him? LOL. Are you insane?
However, there weren’t many Korean football fans mourning him.
The same was true in Europe, including England, where he had spent most of his career.
The reason was obvious just from looking at his career.
He was practically a journeyman, having moved from team to team so often that there was barely a club where he had played for more than two seasons.
Journeymen were rarely treated with much affection wherever they went.
On top of that, his personality suited the name Jang Ik-deok a little too well.
Put nicely, he had a fiery temperament.
Put bluntly, he was a complete pain in the ass.
He fought opposing players, fought his teammates, fought referees, and even fought his managers.
If someone had put a zhangba serpent spear in his hands, like the original owner of his name, he might not have merely fought people—he might have started taking heads.
And that wasn’t all.
Like a UFC fighter, his trash talk was legendary.
Mocking opposing teams and enraging their supporters was practically an art form to him. And if he didn’t like something, he didn’t hesitate to exchange harsh words with the fans of his own club either.
Because of that, his nicknames in Korea included “the fighting dog” and “the devil’s tongue.”
Naturally, he had fans who loved him.
But he had even more antis.
And the biggest reason people disliked him was…
- If I ever came face-to-face with Jang Ik-deok, I’m confident I’d piss myself immediately.
- If that bastard hadn’t become a footballer, he would’ve definitely been a gangster.
- Gangster? Forget that. If he just walked around Japan, he’d probably unite the entire yakuza world with that face. LOL.
- Chinese players never committed dirty fouls against Jang Ik-deok, you know. LOL.
- How dare they foul him? LOL.
- “How dare they?” LMAOOOO.
- Maybe they saw his face and thought he had connections to the Triads?
- No, they were just scared of his face itself.
- And he’s ridiculously good at fighting too, honestly.
- Exactly. LOL. If he hadn’t played football, he would’ve definitely become some nationwide gangster boss or something.
- Wasn’t his European nickname literally “the Real Mafia”?
- Yeah. LOL.
- In Britain, they called him the King of Gangs.
- LOOOOOL, King of Gangs! I’m dying!
That’s right.
His appearance played a huge part as well.
He possessed the kind of face that would make gangsters and yakuza alike respectfully bow their heads and greet him as “Big Brother.”
Some people even joked that if Zhang Fei himself—the historical figure whose name Jang Ik-deok was associated with—appeared before him, Zhang Fei would take one look at Jang Ik-deok’s face and back off a step.
In fact, it was normal for children to burst into tears when they saw him on the street. There had even been cases of children going into convulsions.
Once, he accidentally encountered a woman while walking alone at night, and she fainted on the spot.
There was also a time when some middle-aged man saw him walking by, begged him to spare his life, and handed over money.
Before he became famous, it was practically routine for the police to stop him and check his identity.
That was the owner of that terrifying face.
People even said that they probably would have hated him even if he’d had the personality of a saint.
- Still, whenever Jang Ik-deok played, you never had to worry about that match.
- Yeah… Who’s going to score our goals now?
- He’d turn a losing match into a draw, a draw into a win, and if we were supposed to win, he’d make sure we crushed them.
- His skill really was the best.
- For real. His dribbling was rough, but once he got the ball, you could never take it away from him. It was like watching a giant millstone roll forward.
- His physical battles were insane.
- His style was basically beating everyone up and then playing football. Hahaha.
- Hey, but his shooting was fucking sharp too. His finishing was ridiculous. He might’ve had the best finishing in Korean history.
- More than anything, I loved how viciously determined he was. You know, that overflowing fighting spirit.
- I’ll never forget the Tokyo Battle. He was bleeding everywhere, but still somehow scored a hat trick with headers.
- We cursed him like it was a meme, but we still cheered for him behind the scenes. Ik-deok, farewell. Thanks for everything.
- Same here.
- Fuck… Now that I think about it, what am I supposed to enjoy watching overseas football for?
Yet, just as many people cursed him, there were also many who mourned his death.
No matter how unfavorable the situation was, he always made people believe that he would score.
Even when a match seemed certain to be lost, he never let the flame of hope die. He desperately created goals, trying to drag his team back into the game.
There were people who loved that kind of football.
A player who made both his fans and his haters go wild.
No matter what anyone said, he was the biggest star in Korean football history.
I’m dead.
The moment I realized I was dead, I began looking back on my previous life.
My life had been one long series of unfair bullshit.
I was an orphan.
The orphanage where I grew up operated a baby box, so I naturally assumed that, like the other children, I had been abandoned there.
Later, the nun who ran the orphanage told me where I had actually been found.
A public restroom.
Apparently, the people who were supposedly my parents had been extremely clever about it. There were no security cameras there, or the ones that existed had been broken, so they had never even been able to trace my parents.
It might sound like a shocking story.
But I simply accepted it.
What orphan didn’t have a story?
By that point, I’d already been through so much unfair shit that my mental fortitude had become practically unbreakable.
Still, there was one thing I resented my parents for.
Couldn’t you at least have given birth to me looking somewhat human?
Why did you have to give me this face?
If I were merely ugly, I wouldn’t have complained.
But being ugly wasn’t enough—I looked downright terrifying.
People running away whenever they encountered me on a dark street was perfectly normal. And before I became famous as a footballer, getting stopped and searched by the police was an everyday occurrence.
I loved babies.
Unfortunately, whenever babies saw me, they didn’t just cry—they sometimes had fits. I couldn’t even admire a baby from a distance.
And because of my face, I got beaten up a lot when I was young.
After getting beaten so much, there eventually came a point when I couldn’t take it anymore.
So I fought back.
And fighting back led to fighting.
Thanks to my naturally gifted physique, I unintentionally ended up defeating older boys two or three years ahead of me and taking over the orphanage.
By the time I was in high school, actual gangsters were trying to recruit me.
Honestly, if I hadn’t gone down the path of becoming a football player, I might really have become a gangster.
This face caused enormous problems throughout my playing career as well.
Even the smallest, most trivial incidents were misunderstood because of how I looked and often escalated into arguments or fights.
People constantly assumed I drank or smoked, even though I did neither.
I’d even heard people ask whether I was on drugs.
There were times during my career when people genuinely believed I was involved with gangs or criminal organizations.
How was I supposed to tolerate that kind of unfair bullshit?
With my personality?
Absolutely no way.
I confronted it head-on.
That was why I fought with fans so often.
Come to think of it now, I really was immature.
But what could I do?
That was how I’d always lived.
I’d thought it was normal.
Anyway…
Where the hell am I?
The entire world was white.
Heaven?
That couldn’t be right.
It wasn’t like I’d lived a particularly kind life.
[This is the Hall.]
What?
I looked around at the voice, but I couldn’t see its owner anywhere.
[Raise your head and look above.]
As if hypnotized, I raised my head.
And then—
What the hell…?
I flinched in surprise.
There was a gigantic football.
And that football had three pairs of wings.
In the center of the ball was a single enormous eye staring down at me.
The sight was grotesque, yet strangely mystical.
I was overwhelmed without even realizing it.
[Do not be afraid. I am an angel.]
So that’s why angels in the Bible are always telling people not to be afraid.
They look like that.
But why would an angel look like a football?
[I am the angel of the God of Football. I am a being who conveys His words.]
The God of Football?
[He has existed since the moment the ball came into existence in this world. Since the first human kicked a ball with his foot, He has been a god, guiding the sport toward what is now known as football.]
[He watches over humanity’s joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure born from and directed toward football. He looks upward from the grass and downward upon the field from the heavens.]
“No, but… why would the angel of someone like that come all the way to visit someone as insignificant as me…?”
[Did you not seek Him? That is why I came.]
Me?
[Yes.]
I sought a god?
[Indeed.]
I’d never sought a god in my life.
I’d cursed one, sure.
When the orphanage forced us to attend worship services, I was the one who cursed God and asked why the hell He had created such pointless rituals.
When had I ever sought a god?
[Did you not say that you wanted to become better at football?]
“…!!”
At that moment, a memory flashed through my mind like a slideshow.
The moment I died.
As my consciousness faded away through unbearable pain…
‘God, you fucking bastard… If reincarnation exists, then in my next life, let me be reborn as a handsome guy who’s fucking amazing at football…’
That sounds more like I cursed Him than sought Him, though?
[Even so, God answered you. He felt the passion and desire for football within your heart.]
Passion for football.
And desire.
Yeah.
That was right.
I was sincere about football.
Which was precisely why I had so many regrets.
In Korea—no, in Asia—there was practically no one who could compare to me.
But the world was full of incredible footballers.
People said I was one of the best players even in the Premier League, but I never felt that way.
There wasn’t just one or two players in the league alone who made me feel the wall of talent.
Whenever I watched players like Eden Hazard or Agüero, I often found myself marveling at them.
I could never do that.
And when I faced Lionel Messi and Ronaldo in the Champions League…
I felt a wall of talent that I could never overcome.
Especially one man.
Lionel Messi’s football was something I couldn’t even dare dream of reaching.
It was the domain of a god.
A realm no different from divinity itself.
I wanted to become a player like that.
But the harder I tried, the greater my frustration became.
Because no matter what I did…
I could never become that kind of player.
[I can make you into such a player.]
“…What did you say?”
[No. You could become an even greater player.]
A player greater than Lionel Messi?
Was such a thing even possible?
[It is.]
I ended up being tempted by that casually spoken voice.
“Fine… Make me into a player who surpasses Messi.”
[Very well. Be reborn and live a new life. However, you must strive to become the best. Talent and opportunity will be given to you, but whether you allow them to bloom and become the greatest will depend entirely on your own efforts.]
Well, that was obvious.
I didn’t want to become the best for free, either.
[However, God will give you trials. Each time you overcome one, you will receive assistance that will help you reach the pinnacle.]
“All right.”
[Good. From this moment onward, you are an apostle of the God of Football. As His apostle, you shall perform as a player and make His existence known to the world.]
Make His existence known?
How the hell was I supposed to—
Before I could ask, my consciousness began to fade.
[Apostle of God, Jang Ik-deok. We shall meet again in your new life.]
With those final words, I lost consciousness.
And then…
I was reincarnated.
John, Apostle of the God of Football.
That was my new life.
