[Ho-young breaks another youngest-ever record. At 15 years and 60 days old, he sets a new La Liga record as the youngest goalscorer.]
[Unbelievable. We are witnessing something extraordinary right now. Who could have imagined that a 15-year-old Asian boy would score here at the Santiago Bernabeu.]
From the moment the goal went in, the heat inside the stadium refused to cool down.
On top of that, the explosive celebration only fueled the crowd even more.
Even after play resumed, the supporters could not pull themselves away from that goal.
"Wow… I thought the net was going to rip."
"Robben did great, sure, but I never dreamed he'd score a debut goal in La Liga. Isn't this insane?"
"Perez took a beating after the Galacticos era, but he really left something behind. How much did we pay for Ho-young again?"
"Back then? Probably around 500,000 euros."
"Wow. The old man knows how to do business. Robinho went for 43 million euros."
"Ha. Just don't let him be inconsistent. If he keeps this up, the future's bright."
While the supporters were losing themselves in excitement.
The one who had created this atmosphere was just as overwhelmed.
"Hoo…"
Ho-young finally understood, deep in his bones, why Spain was called a football nation.
Creating this kind of atmosphere with a single goal felt unreal, even as the one who scored it.
If hearts could explode, his would have burst several times over already.
"Hoo."
He exhaled deeply and lifted his head.
It was now the 84th minute of the second half.
About ten minutes remained, including stoppage time.
Enough time for anything to happen.
He calmly observed his surroundings, reading the flow of the match.
The rhythm created by Real Madrid's players had completely enveloped the stadium.
A flow without a hint of instability.
Everyone was fulfilling their role, contributing to a controlled and confident rhythm.
It was something he had never felt at Castilla or with the Olympic team.
Zidane was pushing from behind, while Robben and Raul were pulling from the front.
It felt like boarding a cruise ship staffed by elite navigators and seasoned crew.
Just ride along and trust it.
No, that was wrong.
This was not a cruise ship, but a battleship.
Once Real Madrid's attack gained momentum, it became something far beyond imagination.
With Robben and Raul opening space through their refined movement, chances kept coming.
Ho-young constantly communicated with Van der Vaart, actively joining the attacking build-up.
Every pass was met with movement that exceeded expectations, and without hesitation, clear chances were created.
The organization was not perfect yet, but that was something time would fix.
"This is fun."
Ho-young, who had just come up from the second division, could clearly feel it.
The quality of the game was different.
The air at the Santiago Bernabeu felt pure.
Numancia's players felt it too.
They were hitting a wall today.
They had earned promotion as champions of the second division, but Real Madrid were the champions of the first division.
This was not an opponent they could deal with easily.
They had beaten Barcelona in Round 1 with quick counterattacks and organization, but that approach was not working today.
Roberto Carlos and Sergio Ramos were simply too fast.
The midfield was no easier.
Since Ho-young replaced Sneijder, the match had become even more dynamic.
It felt like facing untamed beasts.
Real Madrid's attack was powerful, but not flawless.
"There's a weakness."
Numancia manager Jose spotted the gap in Real Madrid's setup.
Schuster's tactics were not yet complete.
As time passed, cracks were beginning to show.
The momentum was strong, but the details were lacking.
"There's too much space left in midfield. Diarra is covering, but Zidane's stamina isn't holding up."
As a result, the link between the second and third lines was slowly breaking.
Jose decided to exploit that.
He immediately made a substitution.
Felipe Gurendez, who was running out of gas, came off, replaced by the young and fast Javier Del Pino.
"Javier. When we have the ball, drive straight through the middle. As their stamina drops, the gap between Ho-young and Zidane will open. There will be space."
"Yes, sir."
Jose raised his voice, his hands and eyes moving nonstop.
At the same time, he brought on the powerful full-back Carlos Bellvis and instructed both full-backs to overlap centrally.
The final all-out push.
About ten minutes remained.
Even though the score was already 3-0, there was still enough time to pull one back.
"If we break the link between Ho-young and Zidane, we have a chance."
The aging Zidane and the very young Ho-young.
They were Real Madrid's strength, but also a potential weakness.
Exploit that, and a solution would appear.
85th minute.
"Hm."
As Javier and Bellvis stepped onto the pitch, Ho-young frowned.
This feeling was not good.
It felt familiar.
It was not déjà vu.
Last season with Castilla, he had suffered two painful defeats against Numancia.
This felt similar.
"Javier and Bellvis. Just like last time."
They were an attacking duo with excellent chemistry.
Their side-to-center progression was far beyond second-division level.
The downside was that it left major defensive gaps.
Because of that, their chemistry usually showed late in matches.
This was exactly that moment.
Schuster had already warned the team to be careful of quick counters.
Ho-young went one step further.
"Let's use it against them."
Back at Castilla, Ho-young had often discussed tactics with coach Mandilla.
Thanks to the tactical understanding he had absorbed from Carlos at Sao Paulo, he had seen real results before.
With a 3-0 lead, this was worth trying.
That was why he dropped into midfield and spoke with Zidane just before play resumed.
"What do you think?"
"Wait for them to take the bait, then hit them from front and back?"
"Yes."
"And force a long pass, win the ball, then launch a counter. There should be plenty of space behind their back four."
"As expected of you, Zizou. You read my mind."
"I taught you. Of course I know."
Zidane smirked.
"Do you think it'll work?"
"No, it's a good idea. Simple, but turning the opponent's thinking against them is hard to deal with when you're on the receiving end. But."
Zidane placed a hand on Ho-young's shoulder and pointed across the pitch, offering a few words of advice.
Ho-young nodded instinctively.
Zidane's insight, born of experience and talent, was deep and creative.
"I see."
Once again, Ho-young learned something today.
Zidane continued.
"When I give the signal, don't look back. Just run. Prove today what the number 10 really means."
"Yes."
Their plan quickly spread among the teammates.
Play resumed immediately after.
[With Gurendez and Bellvis coming on, the tempo has picked up.]
[That's right. Numancia are speeding things up. Real Madrid need to recognize this and respond, but Zidane, Ho-young, and Van der Vaart are still pushing aggressively.]
Real Madrid could have slowed things down and focused on defense, but they kept knocking on Numancia's goal.
That was when Numancia finally revealed their hidden fangs.
It happened in an instant.
The counterattack unfolded in the blink of an eye.
[Bellvis intercepts Roberto Carlos's pass and looks centrally.]
[Real Madrid need to be careful. There's too much space in midfield after committing so many players forward. It looks like Ho-young may have overcommitted.]
[Right on cue. Bellvis's pass slices through the pitch. It finds Javier. Javier is off.]
Given Real Madrid's tactical setup, when the second line pushed too far forward, huge gaps appeared.
This was exactly that situation.
Everything was unfolding just as Numancia had planned.
"This is it."
Javier immediately drove forward with the ball.
Zidane stepped into his path, but Javier had support.
Bellvis on the right.
He was sprinting down the touchline at full speed.
"Good. Just a little more."
The momentum was building.
Numancia's entire team surged forward with it.
Javier's favorite scenario was about to unfold.
Just one second.
That was all it would take for Bellvis's run to rip open Real Madrid's back line.
But that one second changed everything.
Thud.
"…!"
A man came flying in from behind at terrifying speed and slammed into him.
"Ho-young?"
That made no sense.
Ho-young was far too advanced.
That distance was impossible to close, even for Usain Bolt.
"Then who…"
[Ramos. Sergio Ramos charges in on Javier as if he had been waiting. Ramos goes in hard.]
"Ugh."
"When did he…"
It was Real Madrid's right-back, Sergio Ramos, appearing out of nowhere.
And that was not all.
Zidane joined in, forming a perfect double team.
Planned by Ho-young.
Executed by Zinedine Zidane.
The strategy crafted by two commanders was now fully revealed.
Tap.
"…Damn it."
With no special dribbling skills, Javier was completely shut down by their defense.
[Ramos applies the physical pressure, and Zidane cleanly wins the ball.]
The moment Zidane crossed the halfway line, the flow flipped.
A counter to the counter.
The maestro took control.
The tempo accelerated, the rhythm half a beat faster.
Tap.
A bullet-like ground pass shot off his foot.
The direction was precise, as if measured with a ruler.
Its destination was the space behind Ho-young's line.
"It's on."
Ho-young's eyes sharpened like a hawk's.
In an instant, Zidane's earlier words flashed through his mind.
"When I give the signal, don't look back."
This pass was the signal.
Ho-young exploded forward, pushing off the ground.
The feeling was completely different from before.
His thigh muscles tightened, unleashing explosive speed.
[The pass from Zidane looks a bit long.]
[But Ho-young is breaking into the space. Can he get there.]
[Ortega and Boris are chasing, but wait. What is this.]
[What.]
The commentators fell silent at the shocking speed.
As his acceleration kicked in, Ho-young surged ahead, discarding the defenders as if tossing them aside.
[This is unbelievable.]
[Incredible. Incredible. Incredible.]
It sounded like lazy commentary, but astonishment was all they could muster.
Ortega and Boris were not particularly slow, yet this kind of gap was rarely seen.
Ho-young's already frightening pace had been taken to another level by Cha Boom's thighs and Eto'o's explosive muscles.
The entire stadium leapt to its feet.
In the next instant, Ho-young reached the ball.
The pass had not been overhit.
It had been weighted perfectly for Ho-young's speed.
That was their chemistry.
Numancia's goalkeeper Juan Pablo rushed out in desperation, but it only made things worse.
Tap.
Ho-young surged forward on a long dribble.
"Ahh."
Even crawling, no one could catch him.
A physical monster.
Beating even the goalkeeper with pure speed, Ho-young charged straight into the goal like a runaway train.
As if he and the ball were one.
Then.
Inside the net, Ho-young grabbed the netting and roared like the Hulk.
"Wooooo."
Showmanship that drove the crowd insane.
The response was inevitable.
[Huh.]
[My goodness.]
Ho-young's second goal.
The commentators were speechless, and the stands echoed with the same word over and over.
"Ay, caramba."
"Caramba."
"Ca, caramba."
An expression meaning "my goodness."
It rippled through the stands like a chant.
Then came the standing ovation.
Even the away fans rose to applaud.
There could not have been a more perfect introduction.
And to top it off, when the match ended, even better news arrived.
[Unrivaled Ball Trapping (SS-)]
After making his debut alongside Zidane, Ho-young succeeded in absorbing his ball trapping talent as well.
Following Cha Boom's thighs and Ronaldo's composure, it would be added next in line.
It was a debut beyond perfection.
(To be continued.)
◇◇◇
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 200 Power Stones.
◇ You can read the ahead chapter on Pat if you're interested: p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves (Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)