Chapter 54
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Park Si-hyun
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"What the hell? I thought it'd be tough without Hong Myung-bo... but they're playing even better?"
"Yeah, three goals just in the first half..."
The hearts of the Red Devils packing Busan Asiad Main Stadium brimmed with two conflicting emotions.
A skeptical 'Let's see just how good they really are.'
And a desperate wish of 'Please, just play well.'
But what unfolded before their eyes was a national team far more dominant than expected. Polished tactics, unwavering focus, and lethal finishing.
Anyone could see South Korea overwhelming Scotland.
Dubious glares turned to shock, and shock swelled into overwhelming cheers.
The stadium rocked with the certainty of victory, red roars piercing the roof without end.
But as the second half kicked off and the substitution list flashed up, the mood plunged back into chill.
Lee Sung-min drew little backlash, seen merely as filling Hong Myung-bo's spot.
Park Si-hyun was different.
Many blamed him for Hong Myung-bo's exclusion, eyes already walled off by prejudice.
At just 18, still young enough for a school uniform without it looking odd—that meant nothing to them.
To them, he was no prospect. He was the intruder who'd shoved aside Korean soccer's symbol and shaken the national team's discipline. A rebel who had to fall.
That was why.
The moment Park Si-hyun hit the cameras, boos like the roof collapsing swallowed the stadium.
"Booooooo—!!"
Even the Scottish players glanced over—the jeers from 50,000 fans at once were that overpowering.
[Oh, Park Si-hyun's on camera, and massive boos explode from the stands!]
[It's not entirely incomprehensible... but they shouldn't go this far. Park Si-hyun is still one of our players representing South Korea.]
The camera zoomed in on Park Si-hyun's face.
Tens of thousands of jeers poured over the screen, but he didn't flinch a muscle.
Instead, he slowly lifted his head, staring straight at the stands hurling curses and boos his way.
Countless Koreans were there.
Korea's own supporters, pointing fingers in unison like saying, "You don't belong here," faces twisted in scowls.
A scene that would make veteran pros bow their heads.
But—
Park Si-hyun's gaze didn't waver.
No, he seemed to savor the boos, slowly—ever so slowly—curling the corner of his mouth into a smile.
[Ah... Park Si-hyun is smiling!]
[Normally, you'd shrink and look down in a spot like this... but he's smiling! This guy's got guts like no other!]
[Somehow... I get this eerie feeling Park Si-hyun's about to show something big today.]
"You okay?"
Seol Ki-hyun, a fellow European leaguer but not particularly close, eyed me with concern.
He had reason to.
The jeers from tens of thousands at once were earth-shakingly overwhelming.
Age, experience—none of it mattered. Facing that head-on would crumble most players.
But I was different.
In that noise, I saw something else.
Not jeers, but Rot-Weiss Essen fans chanting my name.
Their angry murmurs toward me overlapping with visions of future praise.
"It's perfect."
"What?"
Seol Ki-hyun's eyes widened.
"Aren't you excited? To see how those booing crowds change when I play well."
"..."
Ah, can't wait.
I'd never faced boos this massive even in Germany—the crowd sizes were just different.
50,000 strong.
Imagining them cursing me, then cheering me in unison already sent shivers down my spine.
'Ah... already thrilling.'
Seol Ki-hyun stared at me a moment, then shook his head and scratched his hair.
Face like he'd met someone utterly incomprehensible.
But I was already drunk on the stands' roar.
'Scotland, sorry... but today, you'll dance to my tune.'
A plain goal wouldn't vent this electric buzz.
The second half whistled in.
Scotland cautiously built up from the back, passing backward.
We didn't charge recklessly like they had in the first half.
I walked slowly, scanning their moves with my eyes alone.
Who was slow, who rushed, where the cracks would burst.
And that moment came quicker than thought.
Maybe from conceding three goals—their touches grew rough. Seol Ki-hyun pounced on the gap with fierce pressure.
The defender, pushed back, desperately poked the ball forward.
But it wasn't a pass to a teammate—it rolled into awkward empty space.
"Grab it quick!"
Before the shout spread—
I was already sprinting.
First, fastest.
[Scotland's defense errs! Ball rolls into empty space!]
[Park Si-hyun races after it, but three defenders chase too!]
I arrowed in and claimed the ball first.
But as I went to drive forward, three defenders blocked my path.
Left flank, tight space.
No escape for anyone watching.
Yet I didn't stop.
Tap—.
My toe flicked the ball up,
Whoosh!
The ball arced sharply over the three defenders' heads.
Rainbow flick.
The flashy move Brazilians love, made famous by Neymar.
Now, a humiliating personal skill bursting from my foot against them.
"No way...!"
The three defenders lunged desperately to block with their bodies, but compared to the heavy, solid pressure I faced daily in Germany,
These felt feather-light.
I shoved shoulders with physicality, toppling balance,
Exploded past all three in a burst of speed.
[Park Si-hyun! A flair move like Brazil's stars—lobs the ball and breaks through!]
[Adds physicality to shrug off three at once! Can't catch him from behind—incredible speed!]
"Si-hyun!"
Bursting into the box, Seol Ki-hyun raised a hand my way. Cha Du-ri overlapped from the side, carving space.
Passing here would be a great choice.
But with confidence in my shot, no need for 'option two.'
I scanned ahead quick.
Defenders' spots, keeper's angle, ball's path.
Calculations done—no hesitation left.
Whip—.
Left foot swung smooth, sending the ball flying.
Thwack!
[Park Si-hyun goes for gooooal! It flies... and in it goooooes!!!]
[Fantastic shot! Perfect arc! Beautifully ripples the net!]
The instant the ball left my foot, I knew.
This one's in.
So without pause, I bolted straight for the stands.
Facing the sea of tens of thousands in red, I pressed a finger to my lips.
Shh.
One message to the jeering crowd.
2010, brother Ji-sung's legendary ceremony silencing Japan's away boos.
That scene, born on Korean soil in 2002—
This time, aimed first at Korea's own fans.
8 minutes into the second half.
The stadium's jeers turned to silence.
Scotland's a physical powerhouse.
Strong presses from the start, rough battles into the second half—all from confidence in their strength.
But their style failed against one player.
"Argh!"
Scotland's defense kept getting muscled off an 18-year-old not even an adult yet, tumbling to the turf.
Was his play just brute force?
"No way..."
"That's a Korean player? Not European?"
Even the Korean fans who'd booed couldn't hold back awe.
Park Si-hyun's moves weren't crude power plays.
Rough yet precise, brutal yet dazzlingly beautiful.
Tap—.
One touch shook the pressure,
Swish—.
A fluid turn defying his sturdy frame dodged two at once.
And the finish was simple.
Power surge, full sprint.
That raw breakthrough alone crumbled Scotland's defense.
'Third division Germany? He'll be fine.'
'Hong Myung-bo should've started, not Park Si-hyun?'
Those with such thoughts had no choice but to realize watching this.
'Ah, so that's why.'
'Hong Myung-bo' faded from their minds, a new three-syllable name searing in like fire.
Park. Si. Hyun.