Strategic Mating Partner Chapter 58

🤺

After training ended, as everyone packed up to leave, only Sejin and Seoyoung, the youngest members, stayed behind to clean up the court. When Sejin muttered absentmindedly, Seoyoung’s face twisted strangely as she responded.

“I already did.”

“What?”

“I said I already did!”

Sejin doubted his ears. He had said it, but he never imagined she’d actually done something so crazy. It was obvious. Hyojung was thirty-one in Korean age, and Seoyoung was nineteen. Alpha or omega, anyone with common sense would be appalled by the age gap. Sure enough, Seoyoung spoke with a face full of frustration.

“She said she’s not into a kid who can’t even get a loan in her own name. So I asked if she could wait just a year, but she said she’s getting married right after she retires, so it’s even more impossible. And she doesn’t even have someone to marry.”

Then she muttered complaints to herself.

“…Who’d like an omega that tall anyway.”

Watching her, Sejin was dumbfounded. You like her, don’t you? He’d sensed that despite Seoyoung’s devotion to Hyojung, Hyojung seemed to draw a line. Now, Sejin finally understood their relationship completely. How much must this relentless, obsessive girl have bothered her? With a scoff, he turned away, and Seoyoung got visibly annoyed.

“What’s with that look? You’re the one who asked.”

He didn’t know it’d be such a messy story. Sejin quickly lost interest and turned his attention to match videos of top-ranked athletes. After facing Dongcheol, he’d painfully realized how crucial it was to study each athlete’s tendencies, traits, and patterns in advance. If he’d watched Dongcheol’s videos beforehand, he might not have lost initially. The realization that he’d been a frog in a well hit him hard.

While repeating training and video analysis, returning to his place brought a different thought that plagued Sejin. What was Taehyun doing right now? After spending a whole month together, Sejin couldn’t help but wonder about that goofy face.

“…”

During the first week after training resumed, Taehyun had texted every evening to check in, but by the second week, he stopped contacting Sejin. Sejin briefly considered texting first, but he couldn’t understand why he should care so much. Sure, Taehyun had helped him adjust to Korea. But Sejin had repaid that by inviting him over for dinner, a gesture he’d learned from his French neighbors. Anything beyond that felt like an obsession beyond normal interest. Realizing this, another question filled his mind. Was Taehyun really an alpha? Or…

“It’s not my place to wonder about that.”

Sejin shook his head vigorously to chase the thought away and glared at the messaging app, where no notifications came except from the épée team’s group chat. No new messages arrived despite his staring.

“Fine. Time to sleep.”

Day by day, as the countdown to the competition neared, a change came to his routine about two weeks later.

🤺

“Hey, Sung Taehyun! Why’s it so hard to see your face!”

Taehyun flinched as a thick forearm suddenly wrapped around his neck from behind, nearly choking him. It was early June, already feeling like early summer. At the Jincheon National Training Center for the Olympic team’s collective training, Taehyun, seeing a familiar face after a long time, let out a hearty laugh.

“Long time no see, sunbae Mr. Lee Chungwon. Or should I call you village chief now?”

At Taehyun’s playful remark, the man burst into a boisterous laugh, welcoming him warmly.

“Village chief, my foot! Just call me hyung Chungwon! You’ve gotten even more handsome since I last saw you!”

Well, that’s a bit much. As Taehyun dragged his suitcase into the dormitory, this tanned middle-aged man, who seemed to have heard of Taehyun’s arrival, rushed over to act chummy. He was a famous former weightlifter who retired over twenty years ago. Despite minimal support back then, he’d won an Olympic silver medal, becoming a national hero and later an administrator.

Was it because he loved drinking and mingled at every social gathering, buddying up with higher-ups? Unlike most former athletes who became coaches, he’d taken roles in various associations and organizations, eventually rising to the position of training center director.

It wasn’t bad that Chungwon thought highly of Taehyun, but he couldn’t shake a bad feeling. Who was Chungwon? Even before becoming the training center director, as a non-athlete administrator at the Korea Sports Council, he’d earned complaints from young athletes for his old-school mindset and management. Being admitted to the center during his tenure didn’t feel like a great situation, and his eager rush to greet Taehyun was suspicious.

“Still… he’s not someone who’d do anything too weird…”

Taehyun tried to think positively, slipping out of Chungwon’s arm-around-shoulder grip.

“Thanks for always saying nice things. How’s your back doing these days?”

Trying to steer the conversation to pleasantries and wrap it up, he brought up Chungwon’s back, but Chungwon held on with stubborn resolve.

“Oh, it’s been killing me lately. Which reminds me…”

Damn it. Caught. Taehyun inwardly groaned, resigning himself to an inescapable fate.

“Let’s go inside and talk. You’re just unpacking today, right?”

Chungwon, clearly not intending to let go, grabbed Taehyun’s hand with his large, thick palm and turned to the small group of taekwondo athletes accompanying Taehyun—two women and two men, including Taehyun, the team captain. Taehyun shot a desperate look at the coach, pleading for rescue, but the coach averted his eyes cloudily and sided with Chungwon.

“We’ve got a strategy meeting tonight, so it’d be great if you could send him back before dinner.”

Ugh! Taehyun swallowed a scream. You’re abandoning me like this? He mentally cursed the coach and assistant coach for sacrificing him to escape, but with things as they were, there was no way out. Accepting his fate humbly, Taehyun nodded.

“Yes, let’s go.”

“Great, great! It’s been a while since I saw that handsome face—standing around here doesn’t do it justice. This way, Athlete Sung.”

Damn it, what’s he planning? Taehyun sighed deeply, imagining the nightmares ahead.

The reason association or ministry administrators sought Taehyun was obvious: free labor. Most administrators in high positions were middle-aged, over fifty, and disconnected from current athletes. They couldn’t possibly rein in energetic teens and twenty-somethings bursting with energy. Unfamiliar with athlete trends and changes, they clung to outdated ideas, pushing unrealistic policies that failed repeatedly.

So, the smarter ones outsourced to active athletes. Among them, they picked those like Taehyun—well-liked, respected by juniors, and seen as future leaders—to manage athletes. Of course, this “delegation” wasn’t formalized with procedures or authority; it was just verbally dumped on them.

“Ugh…”

In short, if he didn’t do it well, he’d get chewed out, criticized by higher-ups, and work himself to death. Who’d want that? Even Taehyun, who liked stepping up, didn’t want to be ground down without any protection. But what could he do? Having successfully handled such tasks a few times, he was already on the radar of the higher-ups, though that wasn’t his goal.

Unable to easily refuse others’ requests, Taehyun grumbled inwardly but followed Chungwon to the reception room quietly. As they entered what looked like a principal’s office, another athlete, treated similarly to Taehyun, greeted him.