Chapter 29
Chapter 29
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: Repaying Double is Revenge
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Darder, having heard my words, clenched his fists and trembled with rage.
I'd given him exactly what he deserved.
But the real revenge was just beginning.
There's a saying: repay favors double, revenge tenfold.
Sounds good. Something worth etching into your heart.
Both teams, stung by those early blows after kickoff, sobered up fast and weren't easy to break down.
Fierce attacks and counters flew back and forth, but no more goals came.
"Hoo..."
The first half ended 1-1.
Everyone expected a goal fest after two quick strikes, but the next 40 minutes were scoreless.
"Quiet down and focus!"
The moment we entered the locker room, Manager Martin Leo rounded on the players.
"We conceded early, but we equalized fast. Lucky. But don't think for a second that makes it okay."
The defenders hung their heads under Martin Leo's scolding.
"No more idiotic goals like that. Not in this match, not ever."
"You want to waste another season in the second division?"
"Absolutely not!!"
"Me neither. To survive after promotion, we can't tolerate mistakes like that."
The manager paused.
You could hear the players gulping.
He'd built the tension perfectly—great at leading the squad.
"I expect a different second half."
No tactical changes.
He figured we could win with the same setup.
We had the edge in manpower anyway, and the opponents would be shadowboxing our potential shifts. Solid call.
"Si-eon, score a goal!!"
A request from the stands near the locker room entrance.
I spotted a little girl waving my jersey.
Just a glance, and the crowd erupted.
I memorized her face, then turned straight for the pitch.
Mallorca switched tactics right after the second half kickoff.
The big change: defense shifted from a back four to a back five.
Could seem defensive, but it was actually aggressive as hell.
Mallorca's fullbacks were a modern soccer mutation.
Great attackers, lousy defenders.
So they'd bomb forward like wingers.
Back five when defending.
Back three when attacking.
More attackers to handle, sure—but that's it.
They weren't dominating us, so our chances would hit even harder.
And sure enough, their fullbacks pushed high up the pitch.
Perfect for a certain player to shine.
Taking Adam Dolan's pass, I naturally veered left.
"Lorenzo!!"
Not unpredictable timing, but it worked.
The center back couldn't handle Lorenzo Torres's pace over the fullback.
They started even, the center back dropped deep, but Lorenzo took possession.
This had to qualify as an Espanyol pattern play by now.
Lorenzo slices into the left channel.
Then I follow up, giving him the choice: dribble or pass to me.
This time, he went for the dribble.
As both defender's feet hit the ground, Lorenzo cut inside.
Perfectly timed steal—he breezed past.
Pang—
Breakthrough, and he heel-passed to me.
Not a roll with the sole backward—no, a proper strike with the heel.
Even I didn't see it coming; the ball flowed to me.
Impossible to predict, so the defenders reacted late.
My favorite spot.
Like loading a pre-programmed sequence, I side-dribbled once and swung my right foot.
"Ugh!..."
Just before contact, someone yanked my jersey. Balance gone, I tumbled back.
Screeeeech—
Ref halted play instantly.
Teammates rushed over; I waved them off—I'm good.
The jersey-tugger: Sergi Darder.
Ref flashed him yellow right away.
Definite goal threat, but objectively not red-card material.
Spot: a meter left of the box.
Obviously mine—no complaints.
"Hoo..."
Deep breath. Eye the wall, keeper.
The future in my head brought a grin.
They'd seen my prior knuckleball bender.
I'd been aiming that way too—they had to respect it.
So, near post it is.
Wall's there, but Mallorca's average height ain't towering.
Not guaranteed, but worth a shot.
Plus, I needed this goal.
Two steps back—no run-up needed—then whipped it.
Ball cleared the wall but looked bar-bound.
I knew better watching its flight.
Minimal spin, wobbling up-down.
Then drop.
Keeper, expecting far post, froze dead center.
"Yaaaaaah-----!!!!!!!"
Arms wide, I sprinted.
"Huh...? Where's he going now?!"
"Hey!!!!"
Heard calls from behind—ignored.
Straight to goal, scooped the ball, jogged to midfield.
"Hurry up!!"
Yelled at my teammates, still gawking instead of retreating.
📰 Broadcast Commentary "Lee Si-eon picks up the ball and heads to the center line... Clear intent to speed things up...?" "Has Lee Si-eon lost track of the score...? It's 2-1! Espanyol leads by one—no need to rush!" 💬 Live Chat — Viewer123 What? Do they think I miscounted the score? — LolKing Crazy guy lmao — GoalHunter He's saying more goals incoming, right? — NeutralFan But we're winning—no need for that. — RivalTroll Opponent's gotta be fuming lololol Trailing teams see that as provocation.
But what can they do?
Speeding play helps them more—they can't complain, pissed or not.
Tenfold payback today—no settling for one goal.
80th minute. Ten minutes left.
Minimal stoppages—added time maybe three minutes max.
Call it fifteen to be safe.
Mallorca fans desperate for a draw; Espanyol fans praying to hold the lead.
Players felt it too—poured into the game.
Mallorca forcing risky passes for chances.
Espanyol clearing everything to protect the score.
I'd conserved energy, waiting for this.
Counter chances always come in these spots.
Then unleash it all.
I asked our striker to drop deeper; took his spot.
He looked baffled but swapped anyway—needed the cover.
Opportunity guaranteed.
And there's a cheat to predict it.
A few clearances into their half later, I stayed passive.
Show attack intent in gray areas, they mark you.
Held back.
One perfect moment—that's what I wanted.
Full time up. Two minutes added.
Match basically decided.
Mallorca ditched defense entirely.
Keeper even off his line, near halfway.
My moment.
Watching for it: Adam Dolan.
He checked my position constantly—same page.
Mallorca rushed a forward pass in panic.
Dolan intercepted.
"Hup.."
I bolted forward, eyes only ahead.
Ball can't outrun a man.
Max speed? It'll be waiting.