Chapter 114
Chapter 114
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 114
Chapter Title: FA Cup Quarterfinals (4)
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Bolton University Stadium, hosting the FA Cup quarterfinals, was packed with fans in blue uniforms.
Naturally, Jeong-woo had minimized the away allocation to leverage the home advantage.
And so it was.
The Manchester United supporters in Row D numbered barely a thousand.
But home advantage aside, the players were utterly flustered right now.
“Even looking at it again, that’s a insane lineup.”
David Dignity sat in the locker room, staring at the wall-mounted monitor.
The screen showed the commentary team heatedly discussing things with kickoff just twenty minutes away.
[Manchester United has gone bold, deploying Cristiano Ronaldo up top as the lone striker!]
[Alongside him in the starting XI are Marcus Rashford, Fred, and Harry Maguire, all showing great form in the league! Wow! They mean business!]
Dignity furrowed his brow slightly.
“Out of that lot, the only one we faced in the friendly was Amad Diallo.”
Even back then, Diallo had been dangerously threatening multiple times.
But now, he was on the bench, not starting.
Dignity let out a deflating chuckle.
“They’re really gunning for us.”
Jeong-woo had anticipated the opponent would field a strong lineup.
But seeing it right there in front of him sparked an odd thought.
‘It’s like they’re charging straight into the flames.’
Of course, this Manchester United lineup wasn’t their absolute elite.
Everyone except Ronaldo, Rashford, and Maguire were squad players, not starters.
But the media’s take was this:
[Manchester United! Double Squad Complete!]
[Manchester United! Their second string could outperform Europa League sides in the EPL...!]
Exactly.
That much-hyped second string was now facing Bolton.
Meanwhile, Chong-a Park swallowed dryly.
“Ronaldo...!”
A superstar he’d only ever seen on TV was about to step onto the pitch against them in just twenty minutes.
Despite the bad blood from the Korea ties, Chong-a felt a strange thrill at the idea of sharing the field with Ronaldo.
But unlike Chong-a, most of the others couldn’t hide their nerves.
Cole Palmer kept licking his dry lips.
Frank Gerrard blinked rapidly, his face flushed, one leg jiggling habitually.
“Gonna shit myself.”
Dominic Shields muttered with a bitter smile.
Only Adebayor lounged crookedly on his locker bench, the picture of nonchalance.
Even as he eyed Chong-a Park and the composed Sensuous Ruff—who was faking calm—Adebayor said lowly,
“You lot, don’t look like idiots. Look like an idiot, and you become one. You idiots.”
“...”
Sensuous Ruff, never one to take it lying down, fired back instantly.
“What’s that, you old idiot.”
“Khahaha!”
Adebayor burst into wheezing laughter at Sensuous’s sharp jab.
The tension, which had risen to their chins, eased just a fraction.
Soon, Jeong-woo entered the locker room with the coaching staff.
In his black suit, he stood stock-still in the center, scanning the players one by one.
‘These guys.’
Every one of them had flushed cheeks.
Compared to an hour before kickoff, though, the hype had settled a bit. They were smirking around Adebayor—probably some dumb joke.
Still, the tension was unavoidable.
‘They’ve never faced anyone like this before.’
On paper, this match was a real clash with a top EPL side.
Jeong-woo stood crookedly and laid out the facts.
“Today, we’re very likely to get crushed. Absolutely demolished.”
“...”
Dignity and Chong-a, who’d hoped for some motivational fire, faltered at the blunt reality.
Ignoring that, Jeong-woo pressed on.
“Part of me wants to say we can do this—we beat United in the friendly, Sunderland in the FA Cup, even Arsenal! And pump you up. But we need a colder view of today’s game.”
To put it plainly, Ole Gunnar Solskjaer had thrown serious firepower at Bolton from the jump.
Solskjaer was banking on that.
Jeong-woo’s eyes sharpened for a moment.
“He’ll try to end it early.”
* * *
Manchester United locker room.
As Jeong-woo predicted, Solskjaer was firing up his players.
“Everyone expects us to steamroll them. And you’re all superstars! We owe Bolton one!”
And he said,
“Turn that University Stadium red. The pitch is yours, no matter what anyone says. No need for pressure! Just play your normal game against a weak side—our style, that’s all!”
Solskjaer continued his speech.
Then his eyes met Ronaldo’s.
Ronaldo still didn’t seem thrilled about starting.
On top of that, Ronaldo was pissed.
At no one but Bolton’s Manager Ma.
‘All that trash talk...! And now he’s gone and lit a fire under Ronaldo too!’
Solskjaer had seen it.
Ma needling Ronaldo shamelessly in interviews.
In that moment, Ma had handed Solskjaer a gift—perfect ammo to get a reluctant Ronaldo starting.
Of course, he’d promised Ronaldo.
Just the first half, sub him out in the second.
‘That’s right. Liverpool in five days...!’
Even without Ronaldo asking, Solskjaer had planned it.
Not just him.
Harry Maguire and Marcus Rashford were slated for halftime subs too.
And he was certain.
‘By then..., Bolton will have lost the will to fight.’
Solskjaer was that confident.
FA Cup goblin or not, this United lineup was worlds apart from the friendly.
Compared to Sunderland or Arsenal that Bolton had faced, United’s class was on another level.
* * *
“They’re obviously cocky as hell right now.”
As Solskjaer ranted on, Jeong-woo’s voice turned icy cold.
The stark change from his usual self had everyone tensing up for a different reason.
“They underestimate us, think we’re an easy mark. Soccer’s ninety minutes..., but today, they’ll act like it’s just forty-five.”
He stoked their competitive fire too.
“They won’t even dream of conceding—just obsessing over how many they’ll score, padding stats. Like starving lions eyeing prey. But...”
Jeong-woo glanced at Dignity and Chong-a Park, adding,
“We’re no prey. We’re underdogs to Manchester United, sure..., but not to be trifled with.”
Jeong-woo shoved both hands into his suit pockets and tilted his head.
“Think of it like this. It’s a siege.”
“A siege...?”
Adebayor squinted, questioning.
He didn’t get it.
Jeong-woo explained anyway.
“A battle to seize a castle or fortress. We’re here to defend this one, and those Red Devils have invaded to take our University Stadium. Buncha bastards.”
Suddenly, Jeong-woo nodded toward the locker room door.
“But here’s the thing. Sieges favor the defenders historically. Why? Five thousand hold a wall against tens of thousands and win. We’ve got the high ground already. They’re exposed; we’ve got walls protecting us.”
Jeong-woo kept going.
Those walls? The Wonderers filling University Stadium—you guys.
* * *
“They’ll definitely go for the kill shot! So we endure. Drop deep into defense, like a fortress wall.”
Solskjaer’s face crumpled in annoyance just imagining it.
“Even in that friendly, Bolton tormented us with their low-class bed football. We need to overwhelm them. Storm like a tempest so they can’t even dream of a counter. Rain arrows on them!”
* * *
Jeong-woo said it.
This was a ninety-minute war—even a draw just meant thirty extra minutes.
Time was on Bolton’s side.
“And beyond that door, thirty-five thousand Wonderers are chanting for us nonstop.”
Just like he said, the Wonderers were belting out their anthem.
‘Bolton is the king of Manchester!
Bolton is the king of Manchester!
We’ve already beaten Manchester United!
They’re fucked!
Bolton is the king of Manchester!’
The door rattled faintly from the roar.
A chant born from the escalating rivalry with Manchester United.
Dignity and Chong-a’s shaky pupils slowly steadied.
Their eyes hardened with resolve instead.
Frank Gerrard’s jiggling leg stopped dead.
Jeong-woo’s eyes gleamed as he watched the players steady.
“So, we just do our job. Grab those bastards stepping onto the pitch and make ’em suffer.”
At the end, Jeong-woo’s lips curled slyly.
“Men, don’t concede a single goal. Don’t chase one either—just hold firm. Like we practiced: double walls, endure.”
* * *
21st minute of the first half.
Ole Gunnar Solskjaer was red-faced in the technical area.
He’d even sprinted to the fourth official in fury.
“Look at that! Is that soccer? Huh?”
Solskjaer stabbed his index finger toward where Chong-a Park had tumbled like a mortar pestle, stopping right at the touchline.
Seconds ago, Park had been dribbling out of Bolton’s half when right-back Diogo Dalot shouldered him off.
Chong-a flew like he’d taken a palm strike.
But the fourth official just gave an awkward smile.
“Ha, for real...!”
Solskjaer trudged back to the technical area, incredulous.
He was baffled inside.
‘What the hell...?’
He knew Bolton would go extreme defense.
But this was beyond extreme.
Full-on parking the bus.
When Bolton’s lineup dropped, he’d been puzzled.
Why bench Owen Pressais, shining all season?
Shearer Kane on bench, Adebayor too.
Now it clicked.
‘They’ve stacked two back fours!’
True enough.
To Solskjaer, it looked like a second back four layered behind the first.
The starting XI was absurd for that reason.
‘Skipped buildup entirely—just pure defense...!’
Only two forwards.
Chong-a Park and Sensuous Ruff.
But even they were defending now.
Park’s speed wasted in midfield holding.
Sensuous focused on cuts.
Still, Solskjaer stayed wary.
‘That sly fox...!’
Obviously faking a full sit-back, ready to counter with Park and Sensuous.
So he’d dropped his two center-backs deep too.
Jeong-woo felt the difference keenly.
‘Damn, United’s United.’
The tempo was night-and-day from before.
Already several shots in the first half.
‘Even squeezing space like this, it’s this intense.’
Bolton players blocked with their bodies.
United’s center-backs not joining attacks, yet still dangerous.
Same now.
Thwack-!
Marcus Rashford unleashed a sneaky diagonal long-range from the left.
Crack-!
Dignity, in the box, headed it away.
Wobble-!
He staggered but regained balance.
Ooh-!
Wonderers flinched, eyeing Dignity worriedly.
Luckily, he shook his head vigorously and shouted.
“Stay focused, focused!”
Jeong-woo didn’t flinch.
He’d expected United’s barrage from the start.
So he’d dropped the line deep.
Even forwards defending.
Then, Jeong-woo chuckled softly.
“Tactic name: Two Back Fours, Double Volante. Exactly what it says—double-stacked back line.”
Bolton’s defense had been leaky even in League One.
Jeong-woo had ditched defense for attack focus.
But against United? Disaster without it.
‘They’d shred us.’
Class gap too wide.
Hence this tactic.
Regional defenders in the back four, plus man-markers dedicated to shutting down attacks.
Thanks to platoon systeMad Dog rotation.
‘Not upgraded, but defenders leveled out.’
Subs and starters close in quality.
Team cohesion solid.
Even with possession, no attacking transitions.
Instead,
Pass-!
Short, sharp passes to lure them out.
Draining stamina bit by bit.
Suddenly, Jeong-woo muttered with fierce eyes.
“In this game, a draw’s a win.”
He added,
“Take it to penalties.”
No counter plans from the start.
Not now.