Racial Hatred Ignites – Tae-woo's Defiant Response in the Second Half

The first half ended 1-0 in favor of Manchester City after Guerrero's spectacular goal, but the atmosphere in the stands remained tense.

Arsenal fans had entered the match with fiery passion, convinced that this time they would finally breach Manchester City's solid defense. Their cheers had been relentless, but as the half concluded, disappointment clouded their faces when the score remained unchanged.

"Why the hell isn't the ball going in?!"

"It's all because of that Oriental!"

"We have to lose to that yellow monkey again!"

These hateful voices rang out from the crowd, laced with venomous resentment and mocking laughter.

Yet their anger only highlighted their own powerlessness. No matter how fiercely they attacked or how loudly they cursed, Tae-woo's goal remained an impenetrable fortress.

At that moment, a subtle shift occurred among a small group of City supporters gathered in the away section.

"This won't do. We need to lift Tae-woo's spirits."

"Exactly. If Tae-woo falls, the whole City will crumble. Let's show our strength!"

Touched by their unity, the fans prepared to cheer as the second half began. When the Arsenal supporters started their jeers, these City fans broke through the noise with thunderous voices.

"Tae-woo-woo-woo!!!!"

"Show us your class in the second half!"

"Can you score when Tae-woo is standing in front of the goal?!"

"Our handsome goalkeeper, fighting on!"

Though their numbers were few, their voices echoed louder than any jeer, vibrating deep into the hearts of the players.

Leaning on the railing and cheering passionately through the Arsenal boos, I smiled faintly.

"Thank you!"

They clapped in response, their voices growing even more fervent.

Their cheers sank into my chest like warm sunlight.

—Step, step—

As I walked onto the field, I slowly scanned my surroundings.

Still glaring at me with pure hatred was Hendrix, followed by the same hostile stares from other Arsenal players.

On the terraces, the torrent of racial taunts and insults continued ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to pour down.

Just how long would these stares and curses last into the second half?

'I'll give them five minutes.'

A faint smile curved my lips.

—Piiiiiiiiik—

The whistle blew as the players took their positions.

Even a coach would never have considered this move—let alone actually made it. A goalkeeper standing not in front of the goal but in the midfield line.

According to the rules, there was no violation. Before the match, goalkeepers were free to position anywhere.

This was truly astonishing. It was well-known that Tae-woo, despite being a goalkeeper, possessed exceptional technical skills. But...

"The goal is completely empty! If the ball is taken, it's an immediate goal! Is this some kind of bet?"

"Peter Guardian... is this the new innovation in football he will show us, or a fatal miscalculation? The entire stadium is holding its breath."

Even the jeers from the stands fell silent.

Everyone watched this unbelievable sight in stunned silence.

Guerrero received the ball and immediately passed it back. The ball dropped right in front of my feet.

A mocking smile spread across Hendrix's face as he approached.

"Heh, your team's coach must be crazy. Using a goalkeeper as a field player... you don't even understand the rules."

—Snicker—

"Laughing?"

Hendrix's voice sharpened like a blade.

This was the same play I had shown at the Olympics many times, but in Europe, where team tactics emphasized stability, I was mostly seen as a goalkeeper with outstanding reflexes. So most people only knew me as a "good-shot-stopping keeper."

My current appearance would shock them to the core.

'But I can't help it... I just don't have a good personality.'

After perfectly dismantling him with the dribble, I stopped right there.

I slowly turned my head toward the dazed Hendrix behind me and flicked my fingers provocatively.

As if to say, "Come on, try me."

"Ooh... what is this? Tae-woo stopped on purpose right after perfectly dribbling past Hendrix! It's like... like he's saying 'Want to challenge me again?' This provocative gesture... is it a response to the racial celebration from the first half?"

"Honestly, I don't like this kind of play from a sportsmanship perspective... but given the unpleasant situation in the first half, I can understand Tae-woo's feelings."

"Waaaahhh!!"

The City fans' roar shook the entire stadium.

Though small in number, their cheers were fiercer than ever.

"Rip those dog eyes apart!"

"Hendrix! Break that bastard's legs!"

Even harsher insults flew from the Arsenal stands.

The racial taunts grew even more blatant.

Hendrix's face flushed red with rage. A vicious curse erupted from his lips.

"You bastard... how dare you ignore me?"

Enraged, Hendrix charged forward.

'You mocked me in the first half.'

At the exact moment he lunged, I executed a graceful Marseilles turn.

The ball spun smoothly around his legs and slipped through. My body turned with dancer-like elegance, perfectly dismantling him.

"Ooh... oh my god! Tae-woo's Marseilles turn! A goalkeeper using such techniques...!"

Hendrix, caught off guard, quickly spun around. His face twisted in fury.

"You son of a bitch... I'll crush your legs."

Hendrix charged again, but this time I had prepared my next card.

The skill that defenders despised most—the one that left attackers humiliated.

The ball was lifted slightly, tracing an elegant arc over Hendrix's head.

"Insane! Tae-woo just rainbow flicked it! He's mocked Arsenal's ace striker twice! Is this really ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a play a goalkeeper can make?"

As the ball flew over his head, I whispered right by his ear as I passed.

"What if you can't use your feet better than a goalkeeper?"

Those words were the trigger.

Reason completely vanished from Hendrix's eyes. He grabbed my jersey desperately, but I slipped through his grasp effortlessly. The man who had been forcibly holding me lost his balance and tumbled onto the grass.

"Ah... no, this... Hendrix has completely fallen. Perfectly humiliated by Tae-woo's skills and provocation... The stadium that was filled with curses and jeers has gone completely silent..."

"From what I've seen so far, I understand why Peter Guardian sent him to the field instead of in front of the goal. But this is not over yet. No matter how brilliant his individual skills, one counterattack could still equalize if he fails to take the ball or score."

Looking through the gaps after bypassing Hendrix, I saw Guerrero charging up the left flank.

"Tae-woo! Here!"

The moment I saw him, I hesitated no longer. I crossed the ball with the instep of my right foot from outside, creating a perfect arc toward Guerrero.

If it had been Coach Cheon Mu-seok's tactic, I would have had to rush back to the goal now. But under Peter Guardian, the plan was different.

According to his system, I should simply run toward the goal like an ordinary field player.

Guerrero received the ball on the left flank and passed it back.

The recipient was Mathias.

'Now.'

Mathias and I had practiced this scene countless times without needing words. The instant the cross flew, I was already sprinting toward the goal.

The trajectory I had saved thousands of times as a goalkeeper flashed clearly in my mind.

0.1 seconds—the time the ball brushed over the defender's head.

0.2 seconds—the moment the goalkeeper began reacting.

0.3 seconds—the exact timing I needed to jump.

I knew goalkeeper reactions better than anyone when a cross comes in.

At the split second the cross rose and the goalkeeper judged, I had already launched myself into the air.

The jump felt like being launched. My head connected with the ball before the goalkeeper could react.

"Unbelievable! Tae-woo's header! The timing calculated perfectly based on the goalkeeper's reaction speed! Arsenal's goalkeeper couldn't even move!"

"What a stunning scene! It was like he knew where the ball would land in advance—a perfect jump. The amazing reaction speed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠honed as a goalkeeper is now shining even on offense! Tae-woo is showing the sharp sense he displayed in defense on the attack too!"

Clearly, my reaction speed was a special weapon that transcended the goalkeeper position.

Normal players would go through the process of situation awareness—judgment—action. But I did not. The moment the thought arose, my body was already reacting.

Guerrero's movement was lightning-fast. If it had been another player, he would have spotted him, worried about pass timing, while Arsenal's defense filled the gap. But I was different.

The instant Guerrero entered my view, thought and action merged as one. It was as if input and output happened simultaneously, like a computer.

As soon as the goal went in, I picked up the ball inside the net. Picking it up meant "Let's start the match again." But my steps were different.

With the ball tucked under my left arm, I slowly began jogging toward the Arsenal stands, the joy bubbling inside me.

My teammates, who had been running toward me in excitement, suddenly slowed down upon reading my intention. They followed behind me and slowly gazed at the stands.

As I ran toward the silent stands, I etched every single face into my memory—the very faces that had been jeering at me just moments ago.

'The Oriental you were mocking is shaking your goal right now. Can you still make that gesture toward me?'

On the way back to our side, Hendrix stood with his head bowed low.

"Hendrix."

He lifted his head at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my voice. His face was filled not with anger but with utter dejection.

"Attacking is like this."

"Damn it."

He could not say another word before returning to his half.

His back looked infinitely pathetic, like that of a defeated man who had lost everything.