Chapter 88
Chapter 88
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 88
Chapter Title: Revenge Blood Battle (3)
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Bolton had prepared a 4-4-2 formation.
But Lowell spotted something odd.
“Central midfielder...?”
Lowell Gardner muttered in disbelief.
The star player was starting with his position swapped with Owen Precise.
The commentary team voiced their confusion.
[Ah, they've moved Park to central midfielder.]
[Meanwhile, they've paired Owen Precise with Sensuous Ruff up top as a two-pronged attack?]
They added reactions tinged with concern.
[Park's athleticism is top-notch, but... isn't shifting him to central midfield a bit of a stretch?]
[Yeah. Passing and pressing—he's not exactly equipped for that.]
[Feels like a gamble...]
Even from Wigan's staff bench, murmurs rippled among the coaches.
They seemed flustered at first, then quickly sneered.
“Putting Park in central midfield?”
“He's got speed as his strength, but... doesn't that position suit him at all?”
“Strategy to have him sprint out from central areas, I guess... Pfft. Won't that just neutralize his strengths?”
One coach nailed it.
Lowell Gardner reached the same quick analysis.
‘Sprinting forward froMad Dogeep position? Even if he does, it'll be way harder to break our back four.’
From Lowell's perspective, keeping zonal defense solid was enough to contain the star player.
No matter how fast he was, with Wigan's center-backs and full-backs holding the backline, he'd be neutralized.
‘He's a straight-line player.’
In Lowell's analysis, the star player wasn't the type to dribble through opponents.
By now, whispers of "famous general disease" spread from the rear staff seats.
“Famous general disease, huh? Looks like it.”
Aside from Bolton civic parish and Manchester City-friendly outlets, media coverage of Jeong-woo wasn't exactly glowing.
Lately, after dismissing the internet tactician MAD, he'd even earned the "famous general disease" label.
Jeong-woo's tactical rotations and player management played a big role.
‘Most rotations in the league this season.’
To Lowell Gardner, it resembled a platoon system—using different starters based on the opponent.
To media and fans without the fine details, it came off as famous general disease.
But this strategy? Lowell couldn't make sense of it.
‘Why, how...?’
Placing their most lethal speed threat in that spot felt like sabotage.
* * *
27th minute of the first half.
On the whole, Bolton's game management matched Lowell Gardner's predictions.
They'd gone defensive from the opening whistle.
Now it was clear: the star player, stationed as central midfielder, focused more on defensive duties.
Owen stayed up front, feeding on roving passes.
Sensuous Ruff, no slouch in pace himself, exploited the space behind.
But such attacks had only happened once in the first-half midpoint.
“Similar to that time.”
The assistant coach muttered.
Lowell nodded slightly.
"That time" meant their first match against Bolton.
Back then, Bolton had defended endlessly.
Then a sequential counter had struck Wigan.
But about ten minutes later...
Lowell's face furrowed slightly.
“They've pushed up?”
Bolton, clinging to a ten-back-like deep block, was creeping forward bit by bit.
The gap between goalkeeper and last defenders had widened since kickoff.
“Huh? No idea where their confidence comes from.”
The assistant coach grumbled irritably. Lowell, however, smirked faintly.
“They'll learn after getting burned.”
His eyes locked on Wigan striker Rahim Strong.
A gaze full of trust.
As if proving Lowell's faith, Rahim Strong burst forward.
Newly joined Morten Pedersen dropped deep on the flank.
Soon, Wigan striker Rahim Strong was driving down the right with the ball.
‘Just like the manager said...!’
Pedersen knew Strong and the attackers would target this area aggressively.
Jeong-woo had warned him.
‘Morten, I know you're an attacking full-back... but defensively, you're a bit vulnerable. So they'll probably focus on the flank.’
Jeong-woo added:
Just cede the flank entirely.
Defend zonally and press Rahim Strong.
Backup defense would arrive from behind.
They'd drilled defensive systems in practice across scenarios.
But theory and reality differed.
“Huh, what?”
Pedersen blurted out in shock.
His eyes shook like in an earthquake.
Rahim Strong, hesitating two steps away, suddenly phantom-dribbled past him in a flash.
Thud-!
It didn't end there.
Gerard, creeping up from behind Pedersen, lunged with a front tackle as Strong surged.
But Strong flicked the ball away with his right foot's outside.
“You maniac!”
A curse erupted from the opposite slip.
He dove, extending his right leg desperately.
Thwack-!
Strong lofted the ball over the slip's stork-like leg with an instep.
“Losers.”
He didn't forget the short taunt.
But before it landed, a shadow streaked past.
Swoosh!
“What, what?”
The ball vanished from his feet.
Startled, Strong's gaze followed the thief who'd stolen it right in front of him.
Park.
“Park! You [email protected]$!”
Strong exploded in curses.
The star player had dropped to the final defensive line in a blink, intercepting and streaking past.
34th minute of the first half.
“Damn it!”
Regret spilled from Lowell's mouth.
Again, the star player.
Moments ago, he'd cut off Rahim Strong penetrating the penalty right flank with a sneaky interception.
Now, he preemptively cut a playmaking pass from Salai.
With just a flick of his foot.
The assistant coach beside him frowned and spoke.
“Now I see why they put Park there.”
He elaborated.
Lowell had already grasped it.
‘Owen's work rate is low.’
So park him up top for forward build-up.
Drop the star player centrally to cut passing lanes.
‘His cutting is better than expected.’
The nagging unease lingered.
‘Is that all?’
Simple interceptions, yet they severed penetrations. Had to admit it.
Thanks to that, no deja vu repeat of last season's goal against.
But the anxiety didn't last.
“Ooh!”
The assistant coach exclaimed.
Lowell stepped forward unconsciously.
Anticipation lit his face.
Rahim Strong had beaten a defender and advanced deep.
[Rahim Strong! Phantom dribble gets past David Dignity...!]
Thump-!
[Ah! Frank Gerard charges with a shoulder barge, shoving him to half!]
Reeling, Strong grimaced but protected the ball.
But that brief pressure let Bolton reorganize centrally.
“Sigh.”
The assistant's excitement turned to a sigh.
Lowell muttered with an uneasy smile.
“They've limited the routes. Dropping one guy like Park stabilizes the rest.”
At this point, Lowell shook his head and signaled tactical changes to the players.
* * *
“Those bastards aren't biting easily?”
Jeong-woo muttered.
Hee-won followed his gaze.
Despite ceding right-flank space, Wigan avoided crosses.
At some point, they'd started testing.
“Think it's a trap?”
Jeong-woo nodded at Hee-won's musing.
“Guess getting burned by me left a scar.”
So even with flank space, they'd probe centrally or pass side-to-side in Bolton's half, shaking left and right.
Jeong-woo chuckled dryly.
“They learn.”
No opposite crosses either.
Passes were tight.
Makes sense. Bolton's center-backs towered at 2m.
Central midfielder Dignity at 186cm had aerial edge.
Wigan's forwards? Mid-170s.
Far from target men.
“Scared of counters.”
Then, Wigan noticeably shifted tactics.
[Wigan, loitering in Bolton's half, starts circulating back!]
Jeong-woo narrowed his eyes.
Wigan lowered their posture, recycling possession to drag Bolton up.
‘Then sudden long passes from halfway.’
Bolton's defense already positioned.
Low counter risk.
Bait with mid-to-long passes to lure Bolton forward.
Jeong-woo's lips curled then.
“Luring them?”
His eyes sharpened.
Wigan strikers Gabriel Agüero and Rahim Strong shifting to flank ends.
“They won't push up like we want.”
Lowell Gardner muttered coolly.
“But...”
The assistant started, but Lowell cut him off.
“We're the strong team. Bolton's still the underdog. Their manager knows it best.”
Right-flank attack possible, but traps unknown.
So Lowell opted for a step back.
Still, precarious side passes from halfway to tempt them up.
Positioned speedy dribblers Agüero and Strong at flank ends.
Hoping for cracks.
But Lowell rated success under 10%.
‘Not amateurs.’
Bolton had no need to risk.
Draw or win—same points.
Lowell planned to kill tempo, ponder next move.
How to pierce Bolton's defense.
Advance two forwards at the right moment.
“Kuhehe!”
“Moving just like you thought?”
Hee-won clicked his tongue at Jeong-woo's odd laugh.
As said, Jeong-woo predicted they'd avoid the open flank.
Even bait from their half.
He glanced at Wigan's bench and muttered.
“Of course. They see us as underdogs. Hilarious.”
Chill settled on Jeong-woo's face.
“Let's make trauma after today.”
“Starting now?”
At Hee-won's question, Jeong-woo nodded curtly.
“Push up.”
* * *
Rahim Strong was a striker brimming with pride.
In League One? He was the best.
So facing Bolton grated immensely.
‘Why bother?’
Ceding line, waiting for Bolton to push? Unsettling.
They looked weak.
Especially that left-back.
‘Morten Pedersen.’
From a Championship bottom-feeder, benchwarmer.
Attack over defense.
Strong prowled to Wigan's tempo, scanning Bolton's half.
His eyes hit Bolton center-back Dominic Shield.
‘Could break him?’
Solid aerially, but once turned, done.
‘Feet like lead.’
Frank Gerard's work rate nagged, but no issue.
‘Just outspeed.’
Strong trusted his pace.
Familiar with Gerard from clashes.
His ace: flashy dribbles at speed.
League One defenders died to it.
But Lowell was strict.
Positioned for counter, no go without signal.
Around 40th minute first half.
Wigan deemed safe, sent the signal.
‘Good!’
Rahim Strong poised to burst from halfway-flank junction.
Bolton eased forward, not fully back.
‘Idiots?’
Strong sneered inwardly.
Push up fully? Agüero and he'd shred them.
‘Bolton's mistake.’
Raising line again? Dumb.
Then—
Thwoooong-!
No time to think—a long ball soared from their defensive zone.
Thud-!
Now! Strong exploded forward.
Crossing halfway in a flash, a fierce smile curled his lips.
‘Got it!’
The dropping ball aimed for his thrust foot...!
Tap-!
“Gah!?”
Strong yelped dumbly.
Ball flicked sideways at contact.
Like caught in gale.
Swoosh-!
The star player, black hair flying, pierced his blindside in a blink.
Unforeseen steal—Strong lost balance, stumbling forward, knees buckling.
“Damn it again!”
Rahim Strong flushed red.
Regaining senses, turning—his eyes quaked.
Thump-!
Crash, tumble!
The star player sprinted to the area, tackled—ball hit foot, rolling like a pestle.
Bouncing wildly.
Trailing ref thrust arm toward penalty spot.
Tweeeeeet-!
[Penalty! Bolton wins a PK against Wigan!]
[Not just intercepting the lob to Strong—insane sprint induces a penalty from Paaark!]
[Will Bolton strike fatally against Wigan again this season? Tense moment!]
“Suddenly? What the...”
Rahim Strong gawked around in disbelief. Stolen moments ago—how'd he reach the area?
Then, even more absurdly:
“When did they get here...”
Unnoticed, most Bolton players had crossed halfway.