RE: Keep it in the Family (Secret Class) 178 — The German Proposition II

Director Lee's POV:

"You mean the U-17 World Cup in Japan."

Lee stated it flat-out, without making it a question. He had foreseen this discussion coming for quite some time.

"Exactly." Weber confirmed. "Currently, Jae-il remains familiar mainly within insider groups. Among the real scouts who put in the effort. Yet once he sets foot on that Japanese field? With the entire globe tuned in? No longer just a Korean talent. He'll explode into a worldwide sensation. Moreover, this tournament carries extra weight. A powerhouse is brewing from South America."

Lee's brow furrowed. "South America?" Ah yes, the reports had reached him.

"Brazil." Weber pronounced it like a heavy burden. Coming from Brazil, it invariably carried massive implications. "Checked the Rio scouting intel? They're dubbing it Geração dos Deuses. The Generation of Gods. Imagine the absurdity—an whole squad overflowing with legendary-level stars? All in one lineup? Perfectly timed! As if heaven-sent! Like some old god stirred from slumber, bored enough to shower South America with genius players." Weber's pitch rose, fully fired up now, and Lee allowed him to press on, a hint of entertainment in his eyes. "At first, I doubted what I saw, so I headed there personally, journeyed to observe their matches... and what do you think I found?" Weber quizzed, eyeing Lee as if schooling a pupil on a foregone conclusion.

"... You found they really are the Generation of Gods."

"Without a doubt." He beamed broadly in response. "Finest batch of talents from this land in decades! Unrivaled victors. No contest. These beasts stand alone. The pinnacle from their whole continent."

"Brazil always churns out top-tier stars." Lee remarked.

"True enough. But never this steady excellence or sheer scale from such youths." Weber countered, his face gradually clouding with concern. "Their striker, Da Silva, already leads Flamengo's senior squad and is scoring relentlessly. Their winger, Rico, boasts an eighty-million-euro release clause. Eighty million, Director. This Brazilian squad is a beast. They're heading to Japan to crush all comers and then some."

Weber rapped the table sharply for impact.

"Now, regarding our prospect. Should Jae-il head to Japan contract-free, facing that Brazil side... if he matches Da Silva and Rico blow for blow? His market value won't merely double. It'll skyrocket beyond measure. Then the predators circle."

"The predators." Lee echoed tonelessly.

"Manchester City. Paris Saint-Germain. Real Madrid." Weber named them like plagues. "They'll swoop with oil wealth and sovereign cash. Sign him as merchandise, just to peddle shirts across Asia. Bench him in reserves till he withers. Or shuttle him to some mid-tier Belgian or Portuguese outfit, where bitter 30-year-old veterans shred him out of envy for his salary."

His finger jabbed toward the tablet once more.

"They hoard investments. We forge stars. That's Dortmund's philosophy. Review our track record. We molded the American lad from boyhood into a sensation. Shaped the Norwegian from remote fjords into his nation's prime icon. For fiscal security and talent growth, nothing tops us. Passports? Age? Irrelevant. Quality matters. At Manchester, he's mere data. At Dortmund, he's the centerpiece. We're set to craft him into the next legend."

Lee glanced at the tablet's paused image of Jae-il. He recalled watching the kid develop. Far too grand for the K-League. A giant fish in a tiny puddle. Lingering would hinder him, foster laziness. He required real competition to hone his edge.

True sharpening demanded steel on steel.

He needed hurling into the Bundesliga's fierce crucible and farther afield.

Borussia Dortmund offered Jae-il the prime chance to spread his talents. To battle tougher foes. To broaden his view past Korea's borders.

"What about Kim Jun-hwan?" Lee inquired, lifting his gaze.

"Cut from Jae-il's mold." Weber asserted. "Not as polished yet... but primed for world-class orchestration. The type linking a squad like flawless gears in a relentless engine. Reminiscent of Javi, yet infused with extra grit. Vital piece in our strategy, Director. Indispensable."

"You sound utterly convinced of this gamble." Lee noted. Never before as Director had anyone pitched such a bold deal. "Two Korean teens."

"My career's on the line." Weber replied instantly. "Watzke's greenlit the budget after my pitch. Warned the board: skip this gem, rue it for fifteen years. Pre-contract ready now, locking transfer rights post-window and FIFA approval."

Lee tapped fingers on the surface. This defined the dream and nightmare for any academy head. The fledgling's flight.

"Parents must buy in." Lee cautioned. "Jae-il's especially. Dad craves the spotlight, but Mom guards fiercely. Traditional to the core. Shipping her 15-year-old to Germany? Tough pitch."

"We'll jet them over." Weber shot back. "Private flight. Signal Iduna Park tour. Yellow Wall immersion. Staff intros. School views. Not stealing sons—we're welcoming them to BVB kin. Housing for moms if they join year one. Name it."

From his briefcase came a hefty dossier. He pushed it over.

"Proposal here. FC Seoul fee laced with sell-ons. Jae-il hits my projected heights? That 20% future cut outvalues the upfront sum."

Lee flipped it open. Eyes widened at the headline number. Steep. Outrageous for a 15-year-old. Enough to bankroll the academy half a decade.

"Speed is key, Director." Weber urged tensely. "Spotted a Chelsea scout in Bangkok airport. Slippery type. Ajax rep lands in Seoul tomorrow. Blood's in the water. We're positioned. Poised to groom this gem, buff it till global fame, record-shattering, league-upending. South Korea's top export. Asian stars back in elite chatter."

They locked eyes, Weber's sharp gaze blazing with zeal that stirred Lee's pulse.

Director Lee snapped the folder shut. Studied the weary yet resolute German. Detected cunning. But true conviction too.

He shared it.

Lee sealed the folder. Gazed at Seoul's bustling avenues outside. The youth had surpassed this metropolis. World stage and annals awaited.

He faced Weber again.

"I'll approach the families." Lee stated evenly. "No guarantees on yes. But I'll lay out the terms. If they consent, boys included... numbers next."

Weber exhaled deeply, tension easing from his frame. He nodded, gulping water.

"Excellent." The German urged. "Seal it, Director. Talents like him? Not generational. Once-in-a-century rarities. Lose him... pity us facing him—or him unrealized."

Lee rose, folder secured underarm.

"I understand." Lee affirmed resolutely; no eagerness to uproot a 15-year-old, yet K-League capped Jae-il's bloom. "No wasting that gift."

Handshake renewed. Deal pending, momentum built.

The comet prepped for launch.

"I'll contact you, Mr. Weber."

"Phone's by my side."

Departing, Lee left the fervent scout revering his tablet as sacred text, bittersweet thrill rising. Farewell loomed. But rightly placed, to the sole fitting crucible.

South Korea cramped Cha Jae-il.

Bundesliga beckoned.

Grander arena, icons, trials.

All rested on parents' call—and the boy's.