The Man Everyone's Watching (1)

Elche CF, the club based in Valencia, Spain, was our opponent for Round 2. Their home ground, Estadio Manuel Martínez Valero, could hold over 30,000 fans—a pretty impressive size. Sure, Spain had plenty of stadiums twice that capacity, like Santiago Bernabéu or Camp Nou, but compared to our home stadium that seated just around 8,000, it felt downright grand.

But despite the massive venue, the stands weren't exactly packed. By my rough estimate, they were barely a third full. Still, that had to be at least 10,000 people—more than when our home ground sold out. The sheer scale of the place made it feel kinda empty, though. And the home fans' chants weren't overwhelming us visitors by any means.

Our away fans—only about a thousand strong—were actually louder with their cheers and chants. I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠secretly wished more had come, but I was just grateful for the supporters who'd traveled over 400km to be here. As a player, I had only one way to repay them: victory. That way, they could head home humming happily.

Before kickoff, both teams lined up for the pre-match handshakes. I didn't know a single player on their side, so I just gave quick grips. Then one guy stepped up, and for some reason, my eyes locked on him. He was so tall I had to look up to meet his gaze.

Squeeze—! His hand was huge too. Not sure if he was trying to psych me out already, but he crushed my hand with a grin flickering in his eyes. No idiot would mistake that for friendliness. Bring it on if you dare. I won't go easy. That's the vibe he was throwing. Might've been my imagination, but my gut said otherwise.

So I squeezed back just as hard. His lip twitched upward in that split second, like we'd exchanged a whole conversation without words.

After shaking hands with the rest of Elche CF, I jogged lightly back to our side, glancing over my shoulder. That same guy was heading to his half. I caught his back: number 4, surname ROBERTO. Full name: Alex Roberto.

Peep—! The shield I'd be battling against this spear of mine today.

Just as the ref blew the whistle to start the match, someone tapped the back of Felipe, the Atlético Madrid scout. He turned slightly to see a man setting down his laptop in the empty seat beside him, flashing a grin.

"Seeing a bunch of familiar faces today."

"Long time no see, Gulli."

Gulli was Guillermo's nickname. Close enough to use it meant they were pretty tight. They'd even worked together as scouts at the same club once.

As Guillermo flipped open his laptop at the desk seat, Felipe teased, "A scout showing up late? Real professional."

"I made it right at kickoff. Barely dragged myself out of the bathroom. You know my damn condition?"

"Irritable bowel syndrome, right?"

"Yeah, that cursed thing."

Even back when they worked together, Guillermo would vanish for over ten minutes sometimes.

"Ah, but today wasn't just that."

Grinning, Guillermo nodded subtly toward the other desk seats. "Too many people to say hi to."

Felipe knew exactly what he meant without asking.

"Saw Marco."

"Guy's glowing post-divorce. Can't relate as a single man, but hey."

Marco was Sevilla FC's scout.

"Moved to that beautiful tourist city—should find a new partner by now."

"What's the point? Barcelona keeps me traveling too much anyway."

Guillermo scouted for FC Barcelona.

"Oh yeah, Valencia sent one too. Julio—you know him? Nearing 70, but eyes still sharp."

"Makes sense, being Valencia turf."

"Not just that, though?"

Guillermo smirked and pointed to a player on the pitch. "More like that guy's drawing all these scouts. Borja Navas's pick from La Liga 2."

"And the guy who demolished Barça Atlètic."

Guillermo shrugged lightly at the jab instead of replying.

"Ah, but I'm not here just for him."

"Hm? Another prospect? Trade secret?"

Felipe shook his head. "No secret. Part of my job's reporting on Alex."

"Ah, right, forgot."

Alex Roberto, Elche CF's number 4 center-back. Brazilian, 196cm tall, on loan from Atlético Madrid—Felipe's club.

"Our manager won't use him anyway."

"...Yeah, now it's about how much we can sell for."

Alex Roberto's massive frame brought killer physicality and aerial dominance, but slow feet and clunky movement were fatal flaws. Worst, un-Brazilian-like poor ball control and weak build-up play. Not cut out for a title-chasing big club. Still, Atlético loaned him out instead of dumping cheap because his defending was elite. Perfect for a team like Elche CF that sat deep, didn't demand build-up from CBs. No space behind meant speed wasn't an issue; he could focus purely on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠defense. That's why he agreed to La Liga 2 on loan—and so far...

Chin—! It was paying off big time.

"Oho?"

Guillermo's eyes widened. Ten minutes into the first half now. Both teams had probed tactics, caught their breath, and were unsheathing claws. AD Alcorcón struck first. Naturally, the finisher was the hot-striker drawing every scout: Cha Tae-oh.

Nice chance. Steady build-up from the back, Alcorcón midfielder Maurinho shook pressure and slotted a beauty to Tae-oh up top. Receiving just outside the box, Tae-oh did his usual flawless first touch to evade pressure and create shooting space.

But the dedicated marker, Alex Roberto, stayed cool, backing off to block the angle. Tae-oh had to pause. Good defending didn't stop there. As Tae-oh tried to shift and shoot past the giant, Roberto used long strides to close in, body up, and snatch the ball.

Tae-oh looked a bit rattled facing this physical beast for the first time.

Felipe said, "That's why he's too valuable to sell cheap."

He had a soft spot for Alex Roberto—the one who'd scouted the prospect and pushed the board to sign him.

"Four goals and an assist against Alex? Tough ask."

Still on Atlético's books, Felipe's tone carried pride.

Guillermo chuckled softly at his old colleague. "You know, amigo?"

"Yeah?"

"Borja Navas I know has a better eye than most scouts. Sharper than that veteran Julio over there, even."

Arms crossed slyly, Guillermo prophesied: "By match end, you'll do exactly what I did last week."

Right on cue, Tae-oh got the ball again.

Defenders I'd faced usually wobbled on my first touch alone. A quick turn, and they'd lunge half a beat late to block, only to watch the net ripple helplessly.

I figured Alex Roberto would be no different. Ah, not underestimating him, of course. Tiago warned me, and the analysis coach flagged him as the biggest threat...

...Nah, correction. I did underestimate. That's why, post-touch, I froze seeing the giant completely sealing my angle. Same shock trying to dribble past—blocked. Truth is, the goblin gave me no physical gifts. That's why I grinded bodywork this offseason. But today, I learned there's a physical wall even I can't bulldoze.

Old me might've panicked, brain blanking. Direct breakthrough? Blocked. Outmuscle? No shot. No space behind either.

Yet oddly, no worry. Instead, solutions snapped into place fast. And facing this guy? Thrilling. Especially that cocky glint in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his eye—it fired me up. Imagining it shatter to despair? Couldn't stop grinning.

Thwack—! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Pass landed perfectly at my feet. Receiving outside the box, I sensed the massive presence behind and subtly backpedaled into him. He probably planned to muscle the ball away the second I turned.

But retreating threw him off—he eased pressure. Confirming no shadow, I spun. Their defense trailed; ahead, Roberto loomed in the box like 'Come get some.'

Time to teach this smug fool a lesson. Gap too wide against me...?

Whooomp—!Swish—!

"......?!"

Even narrow angle, I'm a mid-range monster. Brushing past Roberto gaping at the shaking net, I bolted to our supporters.

Dropped for a slick knee slide, basking in it before rising to teammate hugs.

"Theo! Theo! Theo!"

"Cha! Cha! Cha! Cha! Cha!"

Amid roaring chants, I beckoned Miguel Amaro and Nico Salaberria. Mouth covered habit, I laid out the plan.

"That number 4'll creep forward soon. I'll bait him. Leaves space behind. Then... you know."

I added one caveat: "But one crashes central, the other pulls wide opposite. Got it?"

They nodded in sync, eyes hungry like hyenas on the hunt.