As the thunderous shot narrowly skimmed past the post, the crowd erupted in unison.
"Ahhhhhh!"
"Nice! Keep it up!"
"Madrid's on the move! Let's go!"
Over 50,000 Real Madrid fans poured out their support from the stands.
The away fans responded in kind.
Soon, instruments began to play from the away section.
Doom-doo-doom-doom-doom-doom!
"¡Puxa!"
Doo-doo-roo-doom-doom!
"¡Puxa!"
Doo-doo-roo-doom-doom-doom-doom!
"Sporting!"
Not a single voice criticized their players' mistakes.
Pure, unfiltered passion.
From the moment the match began, the heat had been building, and within just one minute of kickoff, it hit its peak.
Even Sporting Gijón manager Manuel Preciado, his gray hairs showing here and there, joined the fire.
He stepped up to the touchline, shouting at the top of his lungs to urge on his players.
"It's fine even if we concede! We play our football! Just think of it as coming to Madrid to have fun!"
Following his fiery words, the referee's whistle blew and Croatian striker Mate Bilić rolled the ball forward.
Less than 30 seconds after the restart, all of Sporting's players surged into the attacking third.
The atmosphere in the stands was enough to make anyone's heart race, and the football on the pitch matched the energy.
Every time they got the ball, they relentlessly drove toward Real Madrid's goal with simple, direct attacks.
It wasn't a counterattack. It was an all-out assault.
Shock and awe.
Their philosophy was to throw defense out the window.
There was no such thing as "falling back" in their football.
This was true attacking football.
[David Barral is pushing up to join Mate Bilić in a two-striker system. That's a shift from a 4-3-3 to a 3-5-2.]
[Just like in the match against Barcelona. Whenever the defense starts to wobble, Coach Preciado counters by doubling down on the attack. The fans absolutely love it.]
[And David Barral is a former Real Madrid youth player, which adds an interesting twist. This should be an entertaining one.]
Sporting Gijón pushed their wingers, central midfielders, and even defenders past the halfway line for a full-scale attack.
Their tactical motto could have been "Callate y prisa!" (Shut up and charge!)
Their attacking style was so simple that even a schoolboy could understand it.
Charge, then charge again.
It was an all-out attack system.
From the flanks or forward line, they'd hold the ball until a player found space, pass to them, then whip in a cross to the center-forward, who would try to finish.
Truthfully, they weren't an elite attacking team in terms of individual quality.
But they scored often because football is a team game.
If all ten outfield players push forward, no matter how solid the defense, over 90 minutes, a gap is bound to appear.
In other words, their scoring secret was to pound on the goal until it finally cracked.
However, Real Madrid, boasting the best defensive line in La Liga, weren't a team to be broken easily.
Relying on the high work rate of Gago and Diarra, they gradually took control of the midfield and restored defensive stability.
[Sporting Gijón are knocking on the door, but Real Madrid's goal remains firmly shut.]
[Meanwhile, Madrid are chipping away at Sporting little by little. No matter how fired up the opposition is, once their energy drains, they're just scarecrows on the pitch. There's no need for Madrid to play along.]
[Considering the away fixture against Real Betis in three days, it might also be Coach Schuster's plan to conserve energy.]
[That's right. September in La Liga is brutal. With six matches packed into two weeks, trying to match intensity in a winnable game is shortsighted. All Madrid needs to do is defend and counter, like Barcelona did when they crushed Sporting last match.]
A high-octane match might make fans want to dance, but that kind of energy doesn't last.
What mattered in the end was winning.
The bigger the goal, the more strategic the approach had to be.
Avoiding unnecessary power struggles, conserving stamina, and maximizing efficiency — that was the key to this match.
That was also why Schuster had deployed Ho-young as the lone striker.
Still, Sporting Gijón's aggressive attacks didn't let up.
They began using rough play to draw fouls, aiming to disrupt Madrid's defensive rhythm.
Then, in the 22nd minute of the first half, their persistence paid off with a chance.
It came from a cross delivered by left winger Diego Castro.
[David Barral rushing into the box for the header!]
[Casillas with the save! What a stop!]
Casillas made a monstrous reaction save on Barral's header, and Cannavaro came rushing in to clear the second ball.
The ball landed at the feet of Ramos on the right flank, and he took off.
A shift in momentum.
It was Real Madrid on the counter.
[Ramos is charging forward! An aggressive overlapping run!]
[Sergio Ramos, who's steadily cementing his place as Michel Salgado's successor. His form has been excellent recently, and he's showing it again today.]
A generational shift.
Michel Salgado had long been the spearhead of Madrid's attack from the back. Now, that role had passed to Ramos.
And Ramos was living up to the responsibility.
His sharp eyes locked onto Ho-young up front.
Thud.
[A lofted through ball forward! Ho-young's perfectly timed run breaks the offside trap!]
Like a predator.
Ho-young had been waiting for the moment, and he exploded forward.
Thump.
He controlled the aerial ball with his inside foot and surged ahead.
With only the keeper left in the open space behind the defense, this was a textbook one-on-one opportunity.
All he needed was acceleration.
Just a split second.
"Ugh!"
"Stop him!"
"Close down! Everyone close down!!"
Gerard pulled at his shirt and tried to block him, but Ho-young's resistance was beyond expectation.
Shrugging him off, he burst forward with chilling speed.
But then—
[Roberto Canella comes flying in from behind with a sliding tackle!]
While Gerard had been jostling with Ho-young, Canella, the fastest player on Sporting's squad, came lunging in from behind.
[Ah! Ho-young is tripped by Canella's outstretched leg and goes down!]
As Ho-young hit the ground, Real Madrid players simultaneously raised both hands in protest.
And the referee's whistle blew.
Tweet!
Fernando Gago rushed to the referee, blinking his wide eyes in disbelief.
"That was an extremely dangerous back-tackle!"
There was no need to see the replay.
A back-tackle that cuts off a clear scoring opportunity was more than enough for a red card.
Especially in La Liga, known for its strict officiating.
Tweet—
"Roberto Canella, you're off."
The referee approached with a stern expression and pulled a card from his back pocket.
[Sporting Gijón. Once again, another card. That's their third red card this season.]
[They're incredibly consistent. Three red cards and eleven yellow cards in just four games. Judging by the away fans' reaction, they seem to wear it like a badge of honor.]
[Haha. Seems that way.]
Even with Canella sent off, Sporting didn't lose their spirit.
Gerard patted Canella on the shoulder.
"Canella, that was awesome. I'll never forget your fighting spirit."
"Thanks. I'll leave the rest to you."
"Don't worry, just relax and watch from the locker room. Our eternal guardian 'Sánchez' will stop everything."
"Right. I believe in you guys."
Without even glancing back, Roberto Canella left the pitch.
The away fans roared in support.
It was their tribute to a man who had shown, in their eyes, the noble spirit of self-sacrifice.
[Still, will Ho-young be alright? That was a deep tackle.]
[Ah, he's getting up. He looks okay.]
As Ho-young stood up, Carlos approached with concern.
"You okay?"
"Yes. Just a slight knock on the wrist, but I'm fine."
Fortunately, no serious injury.
And everything was falling into place.
Though he missed a golden scoring chance, he had drawn a red card and won a free kick.
The referee marked the spot — 24 meters from goal.
The Real Madrid players, well-drilled in set-piece tactics, had a brief chat and quickly got into position.
Roberto Carlos stepped up and began his run-up.
[As expected, it's Carlos. We can expect one of his signature cannonball strikes.]
[The angle looks good.]
Carlos charged at the ball like he was about to deliver a free kick masterclass.
But just as he reached it—
[Carlos shoots—]
[No! He runs over it! He didn't shoot!]
Carlos ran past the ball without striking it.
It was a decoy play to confuse the wall and the keeper.
The real kicker was standing behind him.
Ho-young.
Positioned slightly further back, he took aim at the side of the ball with full focus.
With explosive force in his thighs, he struck the ball with power meant to bury it in the net.
The moment it left his foot, he felt it.
'That might be it.'
Boom!
'That's it.'
The cannon-like strike flew with sharp spin and deadly pace.
Sporting Gijón's eternal guardian, Sergio Sánchez, reached out too late.
The speed was one thing, but the angle was absolutely perfect.
And then—
Clang!
Rustle!
The ball hit the post and went in.
Ho-young's free kick goal.
A stroke of sheer fortune.
[Gooooooooooooal!]
[Ho-young with a thunderbolt strike! The ball curls slightly to the left and grazes the upper left post before flying into the net! That's his third goal of the season! A beautiful spinning shot!]
The training period had been too short to properly master the UFO kick, and even calling it a banana kick would've been generous. But the power was undeniable.
In time, he would deliver even more powerful free kicks.
After all, he had just successfully absorbed Carlos's signature skill.
[Cannon Shooter's Spinning Kick (U)]
"Siuuu!"
Ho-young leapt into the air.
Right in front of the coaching staff bench, he celebrated with a bit of showmanship as a wave of white flags erupted in the stands.
Even the VIP seats behind the bench were in chaos.
High-ranking officials who had been sitting in formal silence now stood and applauded wildly.
Royalty, sponsor executives, corporate chairmen — they all applauded with genuine admiration.
In the center of them all, Pérez smiled broadly and turned to the elderly man beside him.
"This season feels promising."
"Hmm."
The man known as La Saeta Rubia, Real Madrid's greatest legend.
Five-time consecutive European Cup winner and honorary president of the club.
Alfredo Di Stéfano clapped three times and spoke.
"He's a genius."
Known for his notoriously high standards, his praise left Pérez stunned.
Pérez grinned faintly and lowered his voice.
"Do we really need Ronaldo?"
Everything felt perfect already. Spending 120 billion won to bring in Cristiano Ronaldo now felt questionable.
Of course, Ronaldo was the best player in the world and still the club's top transfer target.
Alongside him were Kaka, Torres, Benzema, Mascherano, Fàbregas, Alonso, and Ribéry on the transfer shortlist.
Due to the aging squad, Real Madrid had already planned a massive rebuild next season with a huge transfer budget.
But they couldn't sign everyone.
A decision had to be made.
Di Stéfano gave the final word.
"That's why we need him. Just imagine those two playing together at the Bernabéu."
Pérez nodded.
"Clear as day."
If they could secure next year's budget, they might just build the greatest team in history, even beyond the original Galácticos.
(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.)