Indiscriminate Murder Tackles: Shaolin Soccer
Thirty minutes before kickoff. Locker room.
The air was heavy. Not from tension or fear. Because of those fucking Chinese bastards.
The players were wrapping tape or stretching, but everyone was full of worries. Because the opponents were China.
Those guys didn't come to play soccer—they came to mangle people. Especially in a chaotic situation like today, with our ace Mo Chanhee out, they'd try to crush our spirits from the start.
The day before the match, China's captain Hai Kexin had even trash-talked Mo Chanhee, saying his dribbling was shit and if you isolated him, he was useless. But then Mo Chanhee got injured and was scratched from the lineup, so their whole strategy was fucked anyway. That's why it was scary. Felt like they were just gonna pull out some Shaolin soccer.
That's when Baek Ho-dol, standing in the middle of the locker room with his arms crossed, spoke up.
"Everyone, heads up."
A low but powerful voice. The coach spat his chewed gum onto a piece of paper and tossed it in the trash, taking in each player with his eyes.
"I told you to ignore the bullshit outside. A team that can't function without Mo Chanhee? You hear that crap and your pride doesn't sting?"
Baek Ho-dol's gaze lingered on captain Bong Hyeoksu before landing on me.
"Today's tactical core is speed. If you get the ball and think, you're too slow. No more than 2 seconds possession. Especially you midfielders."
The coach tapped the Chinese formation drawn on the whiteboard with his finger.
"They're gonna come in rough. Don't trust the ref—do our job and don't feel wronged."
As soon as the coach finished, I stood up. I looked at Tak Go-gang and the other midfielders, driving the point home.
"You hear the coach? They got no tactics. They just aim for ankles. Go-gang, you."
"Huh? Yeah...?"
"Don't pussy out. The second you panic and back-pass, they'll ramp it up. Look for an outlet before you receive and one-touch it. If you're not confident, just hoof it to me or Hyeoksu hyung. We'll take 'em all."
Tak Go-gang swallowed hard and nodded. I turned to captain Bong Hyeoksu. Normally I'd say something like "let's do this," but the vibe today was different. He silently tied his cleats, stood, and raised his arm with the captain's band.
"Let's go."
Short and thick. Pure Bong Hyeoksu. Silent leadership. In my past life, he failed not because of skill, but because that silence let the rot fester. But if you point him right... his weight becomes a solid shield.
As I figured, without Mo Chanhee, the midfielders wouldn't waste energy on recovery runs or cleaning up shit back-passes. In a team like that, Bong Hyeoksu's quiet leadership shines. Players look at their head-down charging captain and feel awe as men before soccer. That's why stoic guys like him always get called general material. They'd follow him like loyal soldiers.
Of course, that's just my take. Like I said, this national team is a fucking parade of rotten assholes, so even without Mo Chanhee, a second one would pop up. Don't dress up the ball-hogging, sacrifice-demanding, blame-shifting pricks as "one team." I just hoped the players would trust and follow Bong Hyeoksu like I had to. At least with captain Bong Hyeoksu and vice-captain Ryu Rion charging ahead, how could their blood not boil watching us? Let's show 'em we're stronger without Mo Chanhee.
In the commentary booth, the caster kicked things off.
"Yes, the day of reckoning has arrived! South Korea vs. China, China vs. South Korea! 2026 World Cup Asian Zone Round 2 qualifiers!"
"Man, the stadium atmosphere is brutal. The Chinese fans' jeers are echoing all the way up here to the booth. Our players better not get rattled."
"This match was hot even before kickoff. With Mo Chanhee sidelined, Baek Ho-dol's lineup is bold. No specialist wingers—he went with three central-minded midfielders."
"Exactly. Ryu Rion, Tak Go-gang, Bong Hyeoksu. These three have to mesh organically. Baek Ho-dol said it in the pre-match interview: 'Star antics are over. Time to show a real team.' He has to prove it's not just talk."
Beep!
Right from kickoff, the Chinese swarmed like rabid dogs. Just as expected. 3rd minute of the first half. Tak Go-gang got the ball, and China's #6 launched a tackle. Not for the ball—a blatant ankle murder tackle.
"Argh!"
Tak Go-gang screamed and went down. The ref blew the whistle but no card. Fucked. If you don't card here, the Chinese will push limits wondering how far they can go. You gotta clamp down early, but that heats up the game. Rising intensity is good, but so does injury risk.
Crazy motherfuckers.
I helped the fallen Tak Go-gang up and whispered in his ear.
"See that? Dribble and you're dead. Release it quick."
"Hah, haa... Got it."
Terror mixed with venom in Tak Go-gang's eyes. For survival, he'd focus now.
10th minute of the first half. The flow started shifting weirdly. With Mo Chanhee, the ball hit the flank and stalled. He'd dribble solo till lost, or prance around sucking teammates' energy on positioning battles before back-passing. But not now.
Thud.
Bong Hyeoksu took the ball centrally. Two Chinese defenders rushed to sandwich him rough. A normal player would've wobbled, but Bong Hyeoksu held like a rock. Lips clenched, he used their momentum for a turn. Hyeoksu turn. Raw grit shown without a word.
That bought space. Me and Tak Go-gang surged into it like madmen. Bong Hyeoksu back-heeled it instinctively without looking. I got it. The Chinese threw distance out the window. Body-check hard or foul softer—that's their Shaolin soccer essence.
Where do you get off. Core built rubbing with Euro tanks in Spain. No way I'd yield to anchovy shits like marinated ramen rejects. I shouldered the guy off and eyed the space. Tak Go-gang was infiltrating. I stabbed a through-pass without hesitation.
Tak Go-gang controlled it. Normally he'd kill tempo with a back-pass. But my orders and that tackle pain ruled his brain.
Tak Go-gang lofted a low, fast cross to incoming Park Jeongu without settling. But Chinese defense was a step quicker. Ball deflected off a defender's foot, rolling right to the penalty arc front.
Chance. I was there on instinct. Eyes met Bong Hyeoksu charging the box. Defenders' gaze locked on ball and him—that split second.
Bong Hyeoksu dragged the backline deep, opening space for me. No signals, no talk. Pure instinct.
This is it.
The picture I'd craved in my past life. Not solo hero bullshit—organic gears meshing. Three attacking mids switching relentlessly, creating space. Real soccer.
From that empty arc spot, I whipped my right foot at the rolling ball without pause.
"Die!"
Heavy impact thudded through my laces. Felt it in the moment. Unstoppable.
Whoosh—bang!
The ball lasered out, grazing the Chinese keeper's fingertips and shaking the net like it was ripping it apart.
Swish!
The jeers from the packed Chinese crowd flipped to dead silence in an instant. I sprinted to the corner flag and thrust my fist at the stunned stands.
"Zha yo! Zha yo!" Just wanted to yell something at the crowd after scoring. Brain farted, so random shit came out. No clue what it means. "Fight back" or whatever?
The booth exploded.
"Ryu Rion! Ryuuu Riiiioooon! Goal! South Korea crushes China's momentum!"
"Whoa!! Does that go in?! Washing-line mid-range screamer! Ryu Rion's on another level today!"
"Who said Ryu Rion can't score? No Mo Chanhee, and Korea's attack is still lethal!"
"Baek Ho-dol's tactics hit! Bong Hyeoksu holds, Tak Go-gang disrupts, Ryu Rion finishes! That's a team!"
Teammates mobbed me in cheers. Tak Go-gang grabbed my shoulders, shaking in hype.
"Whoa... hyung! Hyung! Insane. For real."
Bong Hyeoksu followed, ruffling my hair rough without a word. A smile cracked his face, but no more. Just a fist bump to my chest instead of praise. Probably meant "good job."
I glanced at the bench. Baek Ho-dol stood alone, arms crossed amid cheering staff. Stoic gaze on the pitch, then he met my eyes and nodded his chin. Not over. Stay sharp.
And right now, Mo Chanhee was probably watching on his phone from a hospital bed. His face floated in my mind.
Watch close, you stat-obsessed prick. This is a team.
Now the Chinese would lose it and charge like beasts.