Chapter 48
Chapter 48
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: For Survival (4)
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“Truly impressive.”
“To push Bolton around like this when they’re on such a hot streak!”
“Owen can’t do a damn thing!”
The coaches around him let out exclamations one after another.
Eric Lai, the manager who had retreated from the technical area to the bench, replied with a polite expression.
“It’s not me. The players are the ones performing well.”
In the first half, even without scoring, they had dominated Bolton in possession, passes, shots—every statistic.
Including the first half’s 45 minutes and now 10 minutes into the second, Blackpool had already implemented three tactical shifts.
First, a counterattack.
Second, a tiki-taka that evoked memories of Pep Guardiola.
Now, they were pushing the line high and pressing aggressively from the opponent’s half.
“Now they’re pressing Bolton with the gegenpressing we practiced before...!”
One coach muttered to himself.
But Lai calmly shook his head.
“It’s based on gegenpressing, but it’s a bit different. If you saw it during training..., we surround the immediate area with a four-sided press and encircle the nearest players.”
Even with a four-sided press, if the timing was off or the opponent was good at breaking the press, it could lead to a counterattack against them.
Because the numbers would tilt to one side, creating space for the opponent elsewhere.
“That’s why the rest of the players envelop the area like a siege, cutting off even the secondary passing lanes.”
Eric Lai maintained his composure even as he explained.
Then his eyes met one of the coaches.
His nephew, who had joined Blackpool about three months ago.
At his nephew’s gaze, Lai gave a faint smile.
Blackpool’s turnaround had come right after his nephew joined.
In his heart, he thought,
‘This is all thanks to you.’
Truth be told, there was a secret between Lai and his nephew that no one else knew.
The reason Eric Lai had earned the nickname of erratic tactics genius lately was all because of his nephew.
More precisely, his nephew, a die-hard fan of Mad Dog., had suggested it.
To actually use the tactics of WorldManagement’s tactical genius, Mad Dog., in real matches.
Of course, Lai had refused at first.
He hadn’t even known WorldManagement existed until that day, and he didn’t fully trust it.
‘I thought it was just some amateur site.’
A complacent assumption.
Now, months later.
‘Mad Dog...!’
Watching Blackpool dominate Bolton on the pitch, Lai had come to rely 100% on Mad Dog.
Thanks to that, the team had won five in a row, and his precarious position had flipped overnight.
The media was full of praise.
[Eric Lai! Rising to become League One’s new mastermind?!]
[Blackpool playoff promotion race on the green light!]
Above all, with only about a year left on his contract, the club had recently approached him for renewal talks.
Right after this match, Lai would sit at the negotiation table.
‘All thanks to Mad Dog.’
An online tactician whose real name or face he didn’t know.
But Lai was genuinely grateful.
Incorporating Mad Dog.’s tactics into practice wasn’t wrong.
That was the point of uploading them to WorldManagement, wasn’t it?
Of course, there was no reason to mention to anyone that he was borrowing these tactics.
‘I just want victory with Mad Dog.’s tactics!’
Currently in 8th place, two wins in the remaining games could push them to 6th depending on other results.
That meant contending for promotion playoffs.
‘Even if we lose the promotion race..., it doesn’t matter.’
Blackpool was already a team that had hit rock bottom.
Just competing for promotion this season would earn the club and fans’ support.
He might even get a bigger salary.
‘So let’s wrap this up.’
For Eric Lai, the next match was more important.
Against 7th place.
Bolton might be on a rise, but they were 17th.
Lai didn’t see that team as on Blackpool’s level.
‘The team led by the manager who played Middle Eastern bedsheet soccer against Wigan.’
He didn’t like that they resorted to Middle Eastern soccer tactics.
So he wanted to punish Bolton harshly.
Plus, he had Mad Dog.’s tactics backing him.
Even if Wigan pulled bedsheet soccer again, he had plenty of options.
‘Mad Dog. gave me the solutions. And we have plenty of long-range shooters. So whether space opens or not, we can hit with sudden...!’
Thud-!
“...Huh?”
Lai couldn’t even finish his thought.
[GOOOOOOAL! Bolton Waaaaanderers!]
[After being pinned down by Blackpool throughout the second half, Bolton scores a surprise goal!]
[Sensuous Ruff! His second goal of the season, bagged in today’s match!]
They took a blow in an instant.
* * *
Now, Jeong-woo was past suspicion and into certainty.
The corner of his mouth twitched.
‘To actually use it in a real game.’
First half.
He had been quietly excited, thinking a strategist on par with Steve Bruce or Lowell Gardner had emerged in League One.
But turns out that tactic was his?
He felt a fresh surge of pride, and even admiration for the manager, Eric Lai.
‘Must’ve done some real research. To apply my tactics that well in League One.’
He’d almost overlooked it.
They’d blended it seamlessly.
But praise ends there.
Now that he’d spotted the opponent using his tactics, breaking them was easy.
They all came from his head, after all.
Tactics learned from text were never 100% perfect.
Moreover, these were designed for Premier League mid-to-lower table teams, not League One standards.
‘I didn’t expect it to work even here.’
Still, since the application differed, it wasn’t flawless, and the weaknesses were clear.
‘Tactics need to be tailored to the team’s capabilities.’
That goal had exploited exactly such a gap.
“Man, Ruff really has that Raumdeuter vibe.”
Hee-won let out an exclamation beside him.
Raumdeuter meant a player exceptional at creating space.
As the term suggested, Ruff had burst down the left flank in a flash.
Almost simultaneously, Owen, who had dropped back, lofted a long ball to the box.
And that was it.
Ruff sped into the penalty area and slotted it home with a direct shot.
The players performed well, but more than that, the tactic’s vulnerabilities were starting to show.
“Keuheheh.”
Jeong-woo let out a sinister chuckle.
“Damn. When I didn’t know it was my tactic, I thought it was an impenetrable wall.”
It was like drinking from a glass of milk mistaken for coffee, only to suddenly taste real coffee.
Now his eyes rapidly scanned Blackpool’s setup.
‘They’ve left the flanks exposed.’
Gegenpressing naturally pushes fullbacks high, overloading midfield.
The flanks inevitably weaken.
And fast players excel at exploiting weakened flanks.
No long explanation needed.
Jeong-woo shoved both hands in his pants pockets and said.
“Put Sensuous and Pak on the left and right flanks, active from halfway. Have Aaron Lepid play decoy in the center.”
* * *
Second half, 17th minute.
Bang-!
“No way!”
Eric Lai had left the bench and stepped into the technical area.
His expression was full of dismay, unlike moments ago.
Not because of the unexpected concession.
Far from it.
Whoooosh-!
[OOOH! Owen Precise’s long-range shoooooot!]
[It just misses the post! A spine-chilling strike!]
Before the four-sided press could even form, Owen threatened with a thunderous long-range shot.
Just a minute later, Ruff and Pak, repositioned to the flanks, attempted line-breaking runs simultaneously.
In that instant, Blackpool’s players spread wide left and right.
“No! That’s not it!”
Eric Lai shouted frantically.
Spreading wide left the center empty.
Sure enough, Aaron Lepid charged into the vacated center.
“Block that!”
Lai jabbed the air with his finger.
Only then did a center-back realize the gap and shift centrally.
Whoooosh-!
“Son of a @$$!”
Lai spat curses, jumping in place.
His earlier calm had vanished.
Owen, possessing the ball at the edge of the center circle, had unleashed another long-range shot into the open space.
The ball sailed at a razor-thin height overhead, barely punched away by the keeper.
[OOOH! Great save! What a save!]
[A powerful strike arrowing for the corner, somehow cleared!]
“What the...!”
Even with the save, Lai couldn’t relax.
In just 7 minutes.
The situation had flipped in mere 7 minutes.
You could tell from how Owen’s time on the ball near the center circle had increased.
But they couldn’t easily apply the four-sided press on him.
Because Owen would shoot the moment Blackpool players lunged.
Or fire sharp passes to teammates infiltrating the flanks.
“B Plan! Switch to B Plan!”
Lai desperately tried to reverse the flow with Mad Dog.’s next tactic.
He trusted it.
‘It’s Mad Dog.’s tactic!’
He had become a devotee like his nephew.
Thud-!
[GOOOOOOAL! BOLTOOOOON! Just 4 minutes after their first, they score a second!]
[The hero for the second is prodigy Pak!]
[Sensuous Ruff pulls wide on the flank, prodigy Pak cuts inside, and Owen’s cross is deflected in with a toe!]
“...”
* * *
30 minutes into the second half.
Score: 2-0.
Eric Lai hadn’t given up yet.
He was now huddled with his nephew.
“What did Mad Dog. recommend here? Huh?”
“Y-Yes, just a sec!”
The coaches stared blankly at their frantic muttering.
‘What the hell are they on about?’
‘Who’s Mad Dog.?’
The nephew suggested Plan E.
They had prepared it in advance.
“Oh, right!”
Lai immediately changed instructions.
This time, they’d chase a goal no matter what.
Thud-!
[GOOOOOOAL! BOLTOOOOON!]
[Just 6 minutes after the second, they bag a third!]
The scorer, Owen, spread his arms wide in a Beckham celebration roar.
“Y-You @$%@%@!”
Lai now cursed at the air.
His face flushed beet red.
Inside, he was a mess.
‘What the hell is happening...!’
It made no sense.
They’d changed tactics over and over, but nothing changed.
If anything, they were being pinned deeper.
‘All passing lanes are completely cut off!’
As he thought, Blackpool couldn’t even complete passes now.
Any straight pass got intercepted midway.
It was like the opponent read one move ahead.
“Different tactic! Different tactic!”
Lai bellowed.
His agitation stemmed from the contract renewal looming.
Especially today, with the owner and board watching live from the stands.
He’d even locked eyes with them earlier.
But 3-0?
The renewal he’d tasted slipped away, sending chills down his spine.
“D-Different tactic?”
“Yeah!”
His nephew’s pupils shook wildly.
They’d already played every card.
“Mad Dog.’s tactic!”
Lai now barked.
The coaches watched the two silently.
Ignoring them, the frantic Lai snatched a laptop from the video analyst and shoved it at his nephew.
“Log into WorldManagement and search!”
He didn’t care who saw.
Thud-!
Another goal conceded in the meantime.
42nd minute of the second half.
Jeong-woo smirked crookedly.
“Do they even know what game they’re playing?”
He’d seized complete control once he read their tactical direction.
That’s why.
The flustered opposing manager was forcing reckless changes.
But this only backfired.
Jeong-woo clicked his tongue briefly.
“Tch! You don’t get what you want just by spamming changes. And now it’s basically all-in.”
In the first half, Blackpool’s players had moved cohesively.
Now, repeated shifts left them visibly confused.
And Jeong-woo could see it.
“It’s tangled.”
Blackpool’s buildup had twisted like a pretzel.
Players stuttered, overwhelmed by digesting multiple tactics at once.
In short..., the game was over.
* * *
He’d thought the final match would be a tough survival battle.
But life is unpredictable until it hits you.
Beep, beep, biiiiip-!
At the final whistle, Jeong-woo slowly looked up at the scoreboard.
7-1.
They’d thrashed them, plain and simple.
Then deafening cheers filled his ears.
ROOOOAR-!
Everyone at University Stadium rose as one, roaring.
Bolton players, who’d run endlessly on the pitch, spread their arms in triumph.
“Yesssss! We won! We wooooon!”
“Survival! We survived!”
Hee-won beside him hugged Jeong-woo tightly, voice choking.
“Keuheung! We did it! We freaking did it!”
Final points: 47.
As the words said, survival achieved.