Chapter 76
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 76
Chapter Title: Italy Fears Park Si-hyun
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Italy fears Park Si-hyun.
The referee immediately blew the whistle.
The match stopped, and everyone's eyes turned to one spot.
On the grass lay Fabio Cannavaro, unable to speak properly, only tears and strange groans leaking out.
"Guhk... Huhk... Hnggh..."
The referee grasped the situation at once.
And he immediately waved toward the Italian bench.
Signal for medical staff.
If this was deemed intentional, it could have led to a red card—a dangerous situation—but fortunately, the referee judged no intent and issued only a warning without a card.
'Phew... He chickened out. I thought it was a red card.'
Honestly, I felt wronged too.
It was a genuine mistake.
Who could've known that pass I thought was coming would fly so precisely and powerfully right there?
I aimed for his face...
For real.
As I grinned, feeling good after just getting a warning, Ki-hyun hyung approached with a pale face.
"Si-hyun... You're no longer a man. How could you do that to another guy..."
Looking around after hearing Ki-hyun hyung's words, whether Korean or Italian, everyone was clutching their vital areas with both hands, avoiding my gaze.
"Don't touch it. Mess it up wrong, and you might not see your second generation like Cannavaro."
"Even if it was a mistake... how can he smile like that? He's a real demon."
"I saw on TV that demons are handsome to lure people in... But that guy's ugly and scary-looking. Maybe he's an angel?"
'That bastard?'
Zambrotta, spouting nonsense about demons and angels, shut his mouth and bowed his head as soon as he saw my expression.
'Fuck, what's wrong with my face?'
Of course, I'm not the type who lives off my looks like Ahn Jung-hwan hyung.
But still, even if I'm not an "ice prince striker," I get comments like "he's kinda good-looking" now and then...
'When was that again...'
I can't recall, but I definitely heard it.
I scanned Zambrotta's face once.
Just in case I mess up again.
'Good, Zambrotta. I've memorized your face.'
Seoul Gwanghwamun cheering zone.
Tens of thousands formed a red wave, waving Taegukgi flags.
When Park Si-hyun's shot replayed on the giant screen, the crowd fell silent for a moment.
Cannavaro curled up in pain on the grass.
And behind him, Park Si-hyun smirking as he turned away.
Most male fans instinctively winced.
It was pure empathetic agony.
His girlfriend cheering beside him asked,
"Oppa, does it hurt that much if you get hit there...?"
The man let out a long breath and said with a serious face,
"Sigh... How to explain this... The closest thing would be your insides ripping apart?"
"That bad?"
"That spot chokes you even from a finger flick. Now imagine Korea's number one destructive shot from Park Si-hyun slamming right in."
Her face grew paler.
She shook her head vigorously.
"I don't wanna think about it... Horrifying..."
The man sighed and said,
"Sigh... As a man, even against Italy, I feel worried."
Then his girlfriend playfully placed her hand on his thigh.
Her fingertips brushed near his precious area.
"Hmm... But since my oppas never got hit there, you're super healthy, right?"
"..."
"If Korea wins, wanna come over for ramen at my place?"
The man smirked, then bellowed at the top of his lungs,
"Republic of Korea!!! Si-hyun, hit more Italians if you have to—just win!!!"
Lee Chun-soo, subbed in for the injured Kim Nam-il, changed the game's flow right away.
With quick feet and sharp dribbling, he tore through Italy's center, constantly shaking their defense.
And soon—
Lee Chun-soo opened space with one touch, and Seol Ki-hyun unleashed a powerful shot.
The ball grazed Buffon's fingertips and sadly missed the goal, leading to a corner kick for Korea.
'No wonder Coach Hiddink went all-out attack in the second half against Italy.'
Their midfield was looser than expected.
And now Cannavaro was out injured.
So their defensive organization should be even weaker.
I headed to the corner kick box.
At that moment, the Italian players' faces turned white.
Even Maldini avoided my eyes.
'Yeah, you're all scared I'll hit you too, right?'
In the end, Marco Julianno, the sub, reluctantly approached to mark me.
But I'm not kind enough to let that fear slide.
"Hey."
"Y-yeah...?"
"You... wanna see your kids' kids?"
As I chuckled lowly and placed my hand on his shoulder, Julianno flinched instinctively.
Real terror filled his eyes.
"Eek—"
His reaction was so funny, my lips curled up unwittingly.
And seeing that smile, Julianno completely panicked and dropped his gaze to the ground.
At that instant—
From the corner flag, Yoo Sang-chul hyung raised both arms high.
"Good, here it comes!"
As the ball flew in, I used Julianno's shoulder as a springboard and leaped up.
My view cleared instantly, and the ball dropped perfectly right above my head.
"Park Si-hyun—!!"
Bam!!
The ball, struck by my head, rocketed into the net like an arrow—Buffon had no chance to react.
A perfect header packed with full power.
Rooooaaar—!!!
I sprinted to the corner flag and spread my arms wide.
Red roars, waves of Taegukgi flags, erupting cries of "Republic of Korea!"
Everyone was chanting my name.
'This is Park Si-hyun.'
No matter the reason, one thing was clear on this pitch.
Italy's defenders were frozen in fear before Park Si-hyun.
An attacker who instilled not just pressure, but outright terror, simply by existing.
This was a realm even Zlatan couldn't reach.
'Now I can finally say it.'
I had surpassed prime Zlatan.
The current Park Si-hyun followed no one.
I was no longer Zlatan's shadow—I shone as the one and only Park Si-hyun, inimitable by anyone.
Germany's next-gen pop icon, Lisa Schmidt.
The genius girl singer was now sitting in the corner of a chicken joint in Korea.
"Nice! Si-hyun! One more time!!"
"Yeah! Korea to the round of 8!!!"
Red T-shirt, red headband, clinking beer glasses, and echoing "Republic of Korea!" cheers.
Lisa was amazed.
She'd never felt this heat before, uninterested in soccer—the passion of pouring every emotion into one match.
Naturally, her gaze shifted to the TV.
There was Park Si-hyun.
Same age as her.
Same generation.
But from a completely different world.
Bolder than anyone, hiding nothing of his will, choosing conviction over criticism.
And...
The one person who pulled her story out when she was lost in a slump.
"People will be curious about your story too."
Recalling those words, Lisa's face flushed red.
'Ugh... Why does that scene keep coming back... He suddenly patted my head...'
She pretended to wipe sauce from her mouth to hide her face.
But at that moment—
"Smack smack! Man, why is this so damn good! Crunch—"
The crude sound shattered her reverie.
Lisa turned, and before her was a middle-aged man sucking sauce off his fingers in awe.
'...What a sight.'
Her manager, Helmut Barner.
A strict principle-follower in Germany, who had firmly opposed this Korea trip.
Yet now, he looked like he'd conquered the world with one bite of chicken.
"Lisa! This is art! You can't get this taste in Germany!!"
He raised his beer mug triumphantly, and Lisa sighed deeply, rubbing her forehead.
'Who'd believe this guy opposed coming to Korea...'
She shook her head and turned back to the TV.
Park Si-hyun on the grass still dazzled.
His movements, expressions, presence—each one reignited her desire to sing.
'...Park Si-hyun, the brighter you shine, the more I want to sing my story.'
Lisa's gaze deepened, and at that moment, the camera's Park Si-hyun seemed to smile right at her.
Her heart skipped a beat.
"...He's handsome."
Her whisper was barely a breath, but Helmut next to her suddenly turned.
"Huh? What'd you say?"
"Nothing!"
Lisa waved her hands frantically, then remembered something crucial.
"Barner, you told the Korean team, right? That I really want to see Park Si-hyun player. That I won't release the new song until I play it for him!"
Helmut froze instantly.
"...Ah."
"Ah what, ah!!"
He smiled awkwardly, scratching his head.
"The food was too good... I forgot."
"..."
"...You're fired!!!"