Valdebebas First Team Training Ground.
The players gathered in the audiovisual room had their eyes glued to the screen.
Footage of their upcoming opponent, Juventus, was being played. Pass distribution by zone, pass completion rates, zones with the most key passes—detailed data was being displayed in real-time, making it easy to understand the tendencies of the opposing players they would be marking.
It felt like watching a game simulation. Among them, Ho-young couldn't take his eyes off one particular player.
A man with flowing blond hair who never stopped moving across the pitch.
"His work rate is incredible."
As Ho-young quietly commented while watching the match, Zidane, seated beside him, added with a deeper tone.
"It's terrifying."
His name was Pavel Nedvěd.
Five years ago, he won the prestigious Ballon d'Or, beating out Henry and Maldini.
Mainly playing as a left winger, he survived in the Italian league, often referred to as the "graveyard for wingers," and rose to become one of the greatest players of his generation.
'To be more precise, he's a hard-working genius.'
Even non-football fans had likely heard his name at least once. Ho-young knew all about him.
He was known not just for his talent, but also for being the embodiment of hard work, a player who devoted himself to training day and night.
Pavel Nedvěd was the perfect example of how terrifying a hard-working genius could be.
For instance, after training sessions, he would run nonstop until bedtime—whether it was on the street or a treadmill, he didn't care. Even during pre-season vacations, he would jog whenever he had spare time.
Together with Kaká, he was one of the most disliked players among paparazzi.
Many in Korea compared him to Park Ji-sung of Manchester United.
Ho-young found the comparison somewhat accurate.
'There is some truth to it.'
His ability to dominate the entire pitch with tireless running was similar to Park Ji-sung.
But the level was different.
"What do you think, Zizou?"
"I honestly think he's a phenomenal player. We faced him in the Champions League semifinals five years ago, and again in the round of 16 three years ago. Unfortunately, we lost both times."
"Nedvěd was at the center of it all."
"Exactly. From kickoff to the final whistle, he roamed the midfield, constantly disrupting our play. And the scariest part is that he can deliver top-class kicks and passes from any position with either foot. His dribbling and tackling skills are also exceptional due to his ambidexterity."
Just as Zidane said, Nedvěd was arguably the most complete two-footed player in football history.
This meant the match could be extremely important for Ho-young.
'Perhaps I could even covet the world's greatest two-footed talent.'
"But now that you say it like that, Zizou, I'm getting a bit nervous."
"That's a natural reaction. I also feel fired up thinking about facing him again. But Nedvěd isn't the only one you need to watch out for."
Zidane pointed at the screen with his finger, directing attention to a bald man with a sharply defined jaw.
A central defender for Juventus.
"Take a good look. If you get to play, this is the player you need to be most cautious of."
"Yes, sir."
Having recorded a hat trick in the match against Atlético Madrid and earning his first Man of the Match, Ho-young was very likely to be included in the next match as a substitute.
That's why the special training session was scheduled for the afternoon.
With the match just a day away, there was no time to relax.
Everyone was pushing hard, drenched in sweat.
Most players were divided into small groups of three or four for group training, but Ho-young was separated onto a mini pitch with Higuaín under the direction of technical coach Bruno.
It was a regular training drill, but the pressure Ho-young felt today was far heavier than usual.
He was expected to play a key attacking role in the upcoming match.
Coach Bruno spoke up.
"Hey, Woo. Think of this as the Stadio Olimpico Grande Torino. And the man standing in front of you is Giorgio, the central figure in Juventus's defense. These types of situations happen frequently in their defensive third. What would you do here?"
"I've never faced him in person, but I know his man-marking ability is considered top three in the world. If Argentina's Mascherano relies on perfect tackling, Chiellini eliminates opposing forwards with sheer power and intelligent play. However, his ball-keeping is weak, and he sometimes makes mistakes during buildup from the back. If we apply pressing from the front line, we can create chances."
Last night.
Despite having played a full 90 minutes against Atlético Madrid, Ho-young stayed up late reviewing Juventus footage prepared by the analysis team.
His late-night study helped him identify key weaknesses.
"Good. Excellent."
Bruno chuckled, clearly impressed by the flawless answer, then stepped back.
"No need for further explanation. Looks like you're ready. Let's begin training immediately."
"Understood."
Swoosh.
As the coach stepped back, another player stepped in.
"You saw it on the footage. He's a fighter-type defender. But before worrying about him…"
A man known for keeping a clean-shaven head year-round.
He lightly tapped Ho-young's chest with his tattooed forearm and continued.
"Why don't you try getting past me first? If you can't beat me, you can forget about beating that guy."
The man with squinting eyes and a bright personality was none other than Fabio Cannavaro.
[Fabio Cannavaro]
[Possessed Talents: Wall of Lamentation (T), Defensive Positioning That Builds the Wall (SU), Unmatched Jumping Ability (S+3), Unshakable Composure (S+), Fantastic Sliding Tackle (S+), (More...)]
(You may covet one talent upon meeting the conditions.)
(S-rank and above talents require hidden conditions to be unlocked.)
(Condition 1: Train together for 4,000 minutes)
(Condition 2: Score multiple goals in La Liga)
(Condition 3: Successfully break through the defender 10 times)
(Condition 4: Achieve 3 wins in the Champions League)
(Hidden Condition: Unlockable after acquiring at least one talent)
The unlucky man who, despite his phenomenal performance in the 2006 World Cup, had to hand the Ballon d'Or to Zidane.
Now 35 years old, Fabio Cannavaro would be Ho-young's training opponent today.
'If I can win the next match, I might be able to covet Cannavaro's talent too.'
While Ho-young was thinking this, Cannavaro moved to stand in front of the goal and motioned with his finger.
"Gonzalo, you go first. Young will feed you the pass from behind."
"Alright."
"Yes, sir."
Higuaín stepped up.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Smack!
Cannavaro stopped Higuaín's ball dead.
"Damn it. Failed again."
Higuaín couldn't get past the wall that was Cannavaro.
Although his dribbling wasn't bad, he couldn't beat Cannavaro one-on-one. Even attempts to exploit space with off-the-ball runs were shut down.
He came close, but 7 out of 10 tries ended in failure.
It was, without question, the Wall of Lamentation.
He was one of the greatest centre-backs in history, the same man who led Italy to a World Cup win in 2006 and famously declared, "The ball stops in front of me."
Though age had dulled his physical form, his defensive skills remained top-tier.
Short, but powerfully built, his stubborn, aggressive man-marking still ranked among the league's best.
But.
"If you can't get past an old man like me, you don't stand a chance against Juventus's backline."
Cannavaro had been the heart of Juventus's defense just three years ago.
He prided himself on knowing their defenders better than anyone else.
Especially.
"Giorgio was heavily influenced by me. At least within Real Madrid, I know him better than anyone. Higuaín, with your current skill level, you don't stand a chance. If I were Coach Schuster, I wouldn't even include you in the reserves. You wouldn't even get on the plane."
"But... training and actual matches are different."
"Don't say something so foolish. Training isn't just practice. It's rehearsal. You need to train with the sole purpose of applying it in the match. Only then..."
"You can show everything you've prepared in the actual game."
"Hmm?"
Ho-young, who had been quietly watching from the side, cut in.
It was something that Carlos, his coach in São Paulo, had drilled into his head. The words came out almost unconsciously.
"Ah, sorry."
"Hahaha. No, you're right. That was exactly what I was going to say. Alright, your turn now. You've got 15 minutes. Higuaín, you handle the passes."
"Ugh."
Though disappointed, Higuaín passed the ball to Ho-young, looking forward to the next chance.
'I'll succeed more next time. More than Ho-young.'
But at that moment.
Tap, tap.
Whoosh!
"?!"
It happened in the blink of an eye.
Receiving Higuaín's simple through ball, Ho-young sharply cut left, then burst forward, breaking through Cannavaro's defense zone.
A split-second later, he struck a quick shot, sending the ball cleanly into the mini-goal.
Higuaín was left speechless, and Cannavaro lifted his chin and looked at Ho-young.
Two thoughts came to mind.
'I really am getting old.'
A bitter feeling.
It reminded him of the emotions he had felt when he faced Messi during last year's El Clásico.
And the other thought was... hope.
'Maybe the breakthrough is closer than I thought.'
Juventus's midfield and defense looked suffocating on paper.
Even with Real Madrid's world-class attack, it didn't seem easy to break through that shield.
But now, his thinking shifted.
'With precise timing and beast-like explosiveness, there might be a way to exploit their backline.'
After facing him one-on-one, Cannavaro could see it.
'The defenders are going to have a tough time. Facing someone like this in an actual match is pure hell.'
Cannavaro curled his lip and motioned with his finger.
"Again! This isn't nearly enough! You need to pull this off a hundred more times!"
"Here I come!"
There's a saying.
The true tutor for a defender is a forward, and for a forward, it's a defender.
That saying couldn't be more accurate.
Facing Cannavaro, Ho-young took another step forward in his development.
Training continued until the evening, followed by dinner and two hours of rest.
After that, they held an intense team training session for final preparations.
The squad left for the airport early the next morning.
After arriving in the morning, they planned to have breakfast at their hotel in Turin and sleep until a late lunch.
On Real Madrid's charter flight headed for Turin, players exhausted from the tough training were resting comfortably.
Meanwhile, at the central meeting table in the middle of the aircraft, the coaching staff and manager were discussing plans for tonight's match.
"Nedvěd will likely play as the left midfielder. That's what he usually does against strong teams."
"Tricky. A player like him being exceptional in both dribbling and defending is rare."
"He'll likely track back all the way to the front line to cover defensively. So, I suggest keeping Ho-young on the bench initially, then using him as our trump card. That would be more beneficial overall."
As opinions aligned, a man emerging from the shower at the back spoke up.
"Good grief."
It was Cannavaro, who had overheard the discussion after finishing his shower.
With his characteristic firm voice, he gave his opinion.
"What did you just say?"
(To be continued.)