"Get out."
The resume landed in the metal trash can with a hollow thud.
Director Choi didn't bother looking up. His belly pressed against his cheap grey suit buttons, straining the fabric to its limit. He waved a dismissive hand, shooing away a fly.
"I don't know how you got past security, Mr. Kang, but Seong-Hwa University has standards. We don't hire criminals. Especially not match-fixers banned by FIFA."
Kang Jin-Ho didn't move.
He sat in the cracked leather guest chair, legs crossed, looking perfectly relaxed.
He wore a charcoal-black suit tailored to perfection—a remnant of his golden days in Europe. His top button was undone, his tie loosened, and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He didn't look like a beggar asking for a job.
He looked like a predator who had just entered a sheep pen.
"I'm not finished here," Jin-Ho said. His voice was calm, smooth, and wrapped in velvet danger. "Because you have a problem, Director Choi. And I'm the only one in this country who can solve it."
Choi snorted, finally looking up. His face was red and oily, his eyes darting like a cornered rat.
"My only problem is you polluting my office air. Security—"
He reached for the phone.
"Your problem," Jin-Ho interrupted, his tone bored, "is that the University Board is conducting a surprise audit next month."
Director Choi's hand froze inches from the receiver.
The color drained from his face. The silence in the room became deafening, broken only by the rattle of the ancient air conditioner.
Jin-Ho leaned forward. The casual mask slipped. What remained was cold, calculating, and terrifying.
"I read the public financial reports for the Sports Department," Jin-Ho said softy. "Equipment costs are up 200%. Travel expenses have tripled. Facility maintenance has quadrupled."
He smiled. It wasn't a nice smile.
"Yet, I saw the Women's Team this morning. They are wearing jerseys with peeling numbers. They take the public city bus to away games."
Jin-Ho pointed a finger at the sweating man.
"You're stealing the budget, Choi. Skimming the government grant money. That new Hyundai Genesis in the parking lot? The weekend trips to Busan with your secretary? It's all coming out of the girls' fund."
Director Choi began to tremble. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"If the team gets disbanded this season—which they will, because they haven't won a game in three years—the audit happens. And when they check the books..."
Jin-Ho stood up. He towered over the desk, casting a long shadow that seemed to swallow the fat man whole.
"You won't just lose your job. You'll go to prison."
Choi licked his dry lips. His eyes darted to the door, then the window. Trapped.
"You... who do you think you are?" Choi whispered, his voice cracking. "You have no proof."
"I don't need proof," Jin-Ho bluffed smoothly. "I just need to whisper in the Chairman's ear. Do you think he'll trust a gambling addict with mounting debts over a 'concerned whistleblower'?"
The mention of gambling hit Choi like a physical slap. His eyes went wide.
How does he know?
Jin-Ho leaned down, placing his hands on the desk. "Oh yes. I know about the loan sharks. I know you need this job more than you need oxygen."
He tapped the desk. Tap. Tap.
"You need a miracle, Choi. You need the team to survive one more season so you can balance the books. But you can't hire a real coach because you already spent the budget."
Jin-Ho pointed to his own chest.
"So, you hire me. The disgraced genius. The man desperate enough to take the job nobody wants. The perfect scapegoat if things go wrong."
Choi gaped like a fish. "You... you would work for free?"
Jin-Ho sneered.
"Keep your blood-stained salary. I don't want your dirty money," he lied. "I want the license. I want the title of Head Coach. Give me the team, and I guarantee they won't be disbanded. I'll make them win."
"Win?" Choi let out a hysterical laugh. "Have you seen them? The Captain is a cripple. The Goalkeeper is a coward. The rest are rejects! Even you can't fix them."
"I can fix anything," Jin-Ho said coldaly. "Sign the contract. Save your own skin."
Director Choi stared at the devil in the suit. He realized he had no choice.
With shaking hands, he pulled out a standard employment form, stamped it, and scribbled a signature.
"Fine," Choi hissed, sliding the paper across. "But if you lose the first match... I'll throw you to the wolves. I'll tell the press you forced your way in."
"Fair enough."
Jin-Ho snatched the paper. He didn't say thank you. He turned his back and walked away.
'I got it.'
His heart hammered against his ribs. He had gambled everything on a bluff. He had zero money, zero reputation, and now, he was in charge of the worst team in the league.
He stepped out into the bright reception area.
The secretary looked up, stunned. She had expected him to be kicked out. Instead, he walked out holding a contract.
Jin-Ho didn't slow down. He didn't smile. He barely glanced at her as he walked past.
"Update the staff directory," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I'm the new Head Coach."
He left her mouth hanging open as he turned the corner into the long, concrete hallway leading to the gym.
Suddenly, the world turned grey.
Sound vanished. The dust motes in the sunlight froze in place.
[Requirement Met: "Deceive a Superior to Seize Power."]
[Trait Confirmed: Manipulator.]
[Ambition Confirmed: Absolute.]
A translucent blue screen shattered the air in front of his face like broken glass.
[Welcome, Host.]
[The "Tyrant Manager System" has acknowledged your nature.]
Jin-Ho stopped. He looked at the floating text. He didn't scream. He didn't panic.
He just straightened his tie and let out a low, satisfied chuckle.
"About time."
[System Initialization Complete.]
[Status: Active.]
[First Quest: The Locker Room Takeover.]
[Objective: Establish dominance over the 'Tiger' within 15 minutes.]
[Target: Lee So-Young (Captain).]
[Reward: The "All-Seeing Eye" (Player Analysis).]
Jin-Ho read the name. Lee So-Young.
He looked down the hallway. At the very end, a rusted metal door had a sign taped to it: Women's Football Club - KEEP OUT.
From behind the heavy steel, he could hear the faint, muffled sound of sobbing.
It was the sound of a team that had already given up.
Jin-Ho checked his watch. He rolled his neck, cracking the tension.
"Crying before I even get there?"
He adjusted his cuffs, the blue light of the System reflecting in his dark pupils.
"Perfect."