Catastrophe at Etihad Stadium

Manchester, England.

Etihad Stadium, the home ground of Manchester City FC.

Champions League Round of 16, first leg.

Under the lights that painted the night sky, the roar of 55,000 fans enveloped the entire pitch.

The air felt completely different.

It was on a level beyond the intimate atmosphere of the Dutch league or the suffocating tension of the second division — the true pinnacle of modern football where massive capital and cutting-edge tactics converged.

Before the match began, the two teams lined up on the pitch.

The Champions League anthem rang out grandly.

Gang-cheol felt his heart pounding hard.

And he turned his head to look beside him.

The giants in Manchester City's blue uniforms.

David Silva, Sergio Aguero, Kevin De Bruyne.

And Manchester City's heart and captain, Vincent Kompany.

193 centimeters tall. A body of rock-hard muscles.

He stood with his arms crossed, staring straight ahead.

If the Dutch defenders Gang-cheol had faced so far were like pebbles, then Kompany was like a carved cliff.

'Unmeasurable...'

Gang-cheol swallowed his dry throat.

But more than fear, a competitive spirit surged up.

After all, I'd have to clash with them to find out.

They said if your body is good, your head is useless, right? I'll just push this giant mountain down today.

"Hey, kid."

Kompany said in a low voice, glancing at Gang-cheol.

"This isn't a Dutch kindergarten. If you don't want to get hurt, play gently."

Gang-cheol laughed with a smirk and replied.

"Be careful, uncle. You're the age to break bones."

Kompany's eyebrows twitched.

An ominous feeling hung in the air.

SWISH-!

With the referee's whistle, the match began.

Ajax's kickoff.

Following De Boer's instructions, Ajax tried to play aggressively from the very beginning.

Gang-cheol tried to rush forward after receiving the ball.

But...

"......Huh?"

After just 5 minutes, Gang-cheol sensed something was wrong.

The ball wasn't coming.

More than that, the Ajax players hadn't even touched the ball.

Manchester City's tiki-taka.

The ball wandered around the pitch like a living creature or a ghost.

If David Silva touched it, De Bruyne received it, and Fernandinho opened space.

When Gang-cheol ran to press, the ball was already somewhere else.

'I can't even catch it.'

To engage in a physical duel, you need to clash with the opponent.

To clash, you need to be near the ball.

But Pep Guardiola's kids didn't even give Gang-cheol a chance to clash with them.

It was like chasing a ghost.

Only stamina was being consumed.

15 minutes into the first half.

Finally, the moment arrived.

The side collapsed, and David Silva's cutback was lightly slotted in by Aguero.

So meaningless a concession.

Gang-cheol bit his lip. He couldn't be dragged like this.

He had to try his specialty: 'Central Destruction'.

Right after the kickoff, Gang-cheol came all the way down to the defensive line to get the ball, no matter what.

A long pass flew in.

"I'll get it!"

Gang-cheol tried a chest trap.

Then Man City's defensive midfielder, Fernandinho, came running.

Gang-cheol took the familiar back position.

'Come, hit me. I'll deflect it.'

But Fernandinho didn't hit.

He extended his leg cleverly from behind Gang-cheol's back and just tapped the ball Gang-cheol was trying to trap and snatched it away.

"Huh?"

Gang-cheol's center of gravity collapsed.

He had assumed there would be support from behind and put his weight on it, but there was nothing to support.

Stabbed into empty air.

Gang-cheol fell flat on his butt, and Fernandinho casually intercepted and launched a counterattack.

"Damn it..."

Gang-cheol was dumbfounded.

So far, opponents had come at Gang-cheol's physical ability honestly to try to beat it.

But these guys were different.

They didn't even engage in fights they couldn't win. They were intelligent and seasoned.

35 minutes into the first half.

Ajax leading 0:2 (De Bruyne's long-range shot).

Finally, a chance came for Gang-cheol.

In the corner kick situation of Man City, the ball came out, and Gang-cheol started a solo dribble from the halfway line.

Only Kompany, the last defender, stood in front.

'This one I can break through.'

Gang-cheol accelerated.

Kompany took steps back to maintain distance. His eyes were on Gang-cheol's feet, not his torso.

Gang-cheol ran to Kompany's right.

If it was speed, he was confident.

But Kompany's reaction speed was faster than one would believe for a 193cm brute.

He closed in with long strides and blocked Gang-cheol's path with his shoulder.

'Get out of the way!'

Gang-cheol didn't yield and clashed shoulders with him.

In the Dutch league, one shoulder charge like this would send the defender flying.

Shoulders of 85kg brutes that were blown away like paper dolls.

CRASH-!

The crowd let out "Ooh!"

But...

"......?!"

It wasn't Kompany who was knocked away.

Gang-cheol's body staggered.

It was like a car speeding 100km/h crashing into a huge wall.

Kompany didn't budge at all, and instead pushed Gang-cheol back with even stronger core power.

'Pushed back? Me?'

Even with [Human Tank] activated, the absolute difference in mass and power was felt.

The completed physicality of a 14-year-old and the physicality of a 30s captain who had gone through the wars in the Premier League.

It was the difference between 'boy' and 'man'.

"Get up."

Kompany neatly snatched Gang-cheol's ball and tossed it.

"This is the Premier League. Show off your strength in the gym."

Gang-cheol sat down on the grass.

It was a shock.

Physically defeated. I didn't even use my head, but the body I believed in didn't work.

If your body is good, your head is useless?

Arrogance. In fact, true masters had both good bodies and good heads.

Full time.

Score 0 : 2.

The atmosphere in the Ajax locker room was like a funeral home.

His teammates had already lost all hope. 'The only hope I had' had fallen to Kompany, so there was no hope left.

Gang-cheol sat down with a towel over his head.

His hands were shaking.

Anger? No, resentment.

'Idiots.'

Just because my physical improved a bit, I neglected my technique and brain.

Football is a war. It's not that you win just because your body is strong — you need strategy (your head) to win the war.

"Gang-cheol-ah."

De Boer approached.

"Shall I sub you out? You don't have to push yourself. Kompany is a player with 15 years more experience than you. It's only natural that you lose."

The coach judged Gang-cheol's mentality was gone.

But Gang-cheol raised his head.

The light under the towel wasn't dead. Rather, poison was in it.

"No. I will run."

Gang-cheol stood up.

"If I run away like this, I'll never be able to climb that wall for the rest of my life."

"But..."

"I'll change the method. If it's not with power..."

Gang-cheol tapped his temples.

"I have to do what I used to do."

Second half.

Gang-cheol's play changed.

He no longer challenged physically.

When he got the ball, he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠avoided frontal with Kompany, passed to open spaces.

'If not with power, then with what I was best at before.'

Memories from before regression.

Techniques and football intelligence that he honed to survive when his physical was weak.

He woke up the 'brain' he had taken a break from.

Gang-cheol dropped deep into midfield.

And when he received the ball, he immediately gave a no-look pass to the open space on the opposite side.

A pass aimed at the open space behind Kompany as he jumped to tackle.

"Huh?!"

Kompany flinched in surprise.

The pig that was supposed to fight him suddenly started playing like a fox.

Ajax's attack started to come alive a bit.

35 minutes into the second ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠half.

Score 0 : 3 (Aguero's additional goal).

The score was tilting, but Gang-cheol didn't give up.

A final chance for Ajax came.

Gang-cheol received the ball in front of the penalty box arc.

Two defenders, Kompany and Otamendi, stood in front blocking the way. A wall.

'Can't break through.'

Gang-cheol admitted.

With current power and technique, he couldn't break through both at once and shoot.

Then?

'If the ground doesn't work, go to the sky.'

Gang-cheol took the shot motion.

Kompany jumped. Tackle. Perfect timing. A sweeping tackle on the ground.

But Gang-cheol's foot didn't touch the ball.

He scooped the ball with both feet.

And bent his upper body forward, kicking the ball up with his heel.

'Rainbow Flick.'

A technique treated as provocation or circus in real life.

The technique that Neymar uses or so.

But when the big defenders jumped tackles on the ground, the only escape was 'the sky'.

WHOOSH-!

"What?!"

Kompany looked up.

Gang-cheol jumped between the two defenders.

The ball was falling in the air.

Too close for volley, too low for header.

"Waaaaaaaah!!"

Gang-cheol twisted his body in the air and hit the ball with his chest and abdomen.

It wasn't a technique.

It wasn't even a shot.

It was a body charge of determination to put the ball into the goal.

Also known as 'Belly + Heading'.

BOOM!

[Scorer: Ma Gang-cheol (35th minute of second half)]

The goal was not elegant.

It was not beautiful.

It was a desperate goal.

A wound created by throwing his whole body into it to create a crack in the world's wall.

"Haa... haa..."

Gang-cheol couldn't even celebrate and lay flat on the grass.

His whole body was covered in dirt.

Kompany looked at the ball inside the goal with a dazed expression.

A body charge after rainbow flick. This kind of shot was the first time ever.

Full time.

Final score 3 : 1.

Ajax's complete defeat.

Ajax, who conceded the first leg at home, had essentially given up the knockout.

But the fans at Etihad Stadium applauded.

The applause was not only to the victorious Man City players,

but to the 14-year-old boy who had fought Kompany until the final whistle.

Kompany approached the fallen Gang-cheol and extended his hand.

"Rise, little one."

Gang-cheol grabbed Kompany's hand and stood up. The grip was powerful.

"Well fought. Honestly... that last technique was amazing."

"......Next time, I won't lose."

"Sure. I'm looking forward to it. But remember."

Kompany poked Gang-cheol's chest with his finger.

"With that good body, if you use your head too, you'll really become a monster. Don't let your brain rest."

Gang-cheol stared blankly at Kompany.

It was a bone-chilling piece of advice.

And the correct answer.

Behind Gang-cheol exiting the tunnel, Manchester City's splendid victory celebration music played.

The bitter taste of defeat.

But Gang-cheol clenched his fists.

He sensed that this defeat would make him stronger.

'Tactical Understanding E, huh... barely escaped from F.'

Gang-cheol smiled bitterly.

Now, returning to Netherlands.

But it didn't seem like he'd stay long there. He had to go to a broader world, where there were stronger opponents.

And a few days later.

A call came to Gang-cheol.

The caller was the Korea Football Association.

"Is this Ma Gang-cheol? Shin Tae-yong, coach of the U-20 World Cup representative team."

World Cup in Korea.

The place the wounded monster had to return was right his homeland.

There, another mission was waiting.

Not the path of the young king, but the path to become a true leader.