The First El Clasico. (2)
The familiar thud of the ball bouncing off her head made Paullina check the ball's position at once.
The ball had landed just outside the penalty area, near Ryu Ha-neul. The instant she saw him drop into a shooting stance right beside the ball, a chill raced down her spine.
'Oh no… it's dangerous!'
That chill came from fifteen years of experience—stacking countless trophies as a Real Madrid and Spanish national-team player. Even though her body was no longer what it used to be, Paullina understood the danger instantly and launched herself high into the air to cut off Ha-neul's shot.
But the next move Ryu Ha-neul made was one she had never seen in all her years of experience.
'…Huh?'
The ball left his foot, yet the speed was too slow for a shot. In a crowded penalty area, Ha-neul had deliberately chosen to pass.
And the pass was cleaner than anything she had ever witnessed.
"Ah, no way…!"
An unexpected pass found Tena, a Barcelona defender. Paullina had seen countless situations, yet this one still caught her off guard. Tena, being on the same team, hadn't expected it either. The ball struck her shin and sailed harmlessly out of play.
"Haa…"
Paullina finally exhaled the sigh of relief she had been holding since the first touch.
'Passing there…'
A pass that fooled everyone at the perfect shooting moment. If the receiver had been a forward instead of a defender, Barcelona would have conceded a goal before the whistle even blew. The scariest part was that the pass found its exact teammate even with eight or nine players clustered around the ball.
Who could deliver a perfect pass in such chaos?
Paullina thought of every player she had faced and remembered Lucia—the one coaches and scouts had called the best passer in the world for nearly a decade. She had felt Lucia's magic both against Barcelona and when they won the World Cup together, yet even Lucia would never have connected a pass like that in a situation this tight.
"It was a waste! Tena!"
"Sorry."
"It's fine. We'll make it again anyway."
Yet the scariest thing was the calm, unfazed expression on Ha-neul's face after the perfect pass failed to score. Most players would have shown some sign of frustration after such a precise assist, especially on a stage as important as the final. But Ha-neul simply looked… confident.
And that confidence wasn't baseless. Paullina, watching from the corner of her eye, realized that if anyone could create this kind of situation, it was Ryu Ha-neul.
'…As expected, that guy is dangerous.'
When it was announced that a man would debut in the professional league, Barcelona—the team that loved to show off—had already planned to do something outrageous. The club slogan "Club beyond club" and their refusal to attach advertisements were proof enough that Barcelona was never just a football club.
But Paullina's thoughts had changed the moment she saw Ha-neul step onto the first-team pitch in La Liga.
'Well, he's good enough to play in the first division.'
From a jersey-selling, fan-gathering novelty to a legitimate first-division player. Even so, fundamentally, men were still men. The deep-seated belief that no man could ever surpass a woman remained firmly planted in her mind, so she had always seen Ha-neul as just another talented player being carried by Barcelona's stars.
That was why, when the coach ordered her to stop Ha-neul, she had dismissed him in her heart. Her own weakness was now age and declining physical ability. Even if her body couldn't keep up, she told herself she could never lose to a man. And when she watched defenders she couldn't stop, she had mocked herself for thinking defenders' skills had declined.
But the two plays unfolding before her eyes were shattering that illusion.
After receiving the pass from Albaria, she had painted the upper body toward the goal, then spun for a turning shot. She had perfectly deceived herself, but she had still thought it was luck and moved on. Now, watching Ha-neul deceive everyone—including herself—and still connect that pass, she realized she could no longer ignore him as just "a man."
'Dangerous… dangerous…'
It was more than ignorable. It was dangerous. She had faced countless players, endured countless frustrations and victories, yet this was the first time she had felt this exact emotion.
Veronika, who had led France to the World Cup. Rima, the monstrous Brazilian striker. Gabriela, who toyed with every defender. The countless world-class players she had faced in the Champions League and World Cup who had passed through Real Madrid and Barcelona. And personally, Marisol, who believed she could surpass all of them.
She had trained and played against countless players, yet only Ryu Ha-neul had ever made her feel truly dangerous.
Paullina couldn't understand why she felt this way about a player she had first seen today, but the feeling was beyond reason—it was pure instinct. If she were just any defender, she might not have felt it. But her instincts, once called the best in the world, were screaming a warning after only two plays.
"Paullina!"
The goalkeeper's kick landed at her feet. Instinctively, Paullina looked toward where Ha-neul was. And there he was—running straight at her as if he could steal the ball at any moment.
At that sight, Paullina sent a hard pass to Gabriela standing beside her. The runner looked far too large.
"…Huh?!"
The pass was slightly strong, but it didn't turn into a fatal mistake. After sending Gabriela an apologetic gesture, Real Madrid's attack began.
'…Was I too scared?'
Watching the attack unfold, she felt a flicker of embarrassment that a twenty-year-old had made her feel this way.
Real Madrid's attack ended in failure. Barcelona regained the ball and resumed their signature fast-but-slow build-up. Even in the middle of that, Paullina noticed Ha-neul moving constantly, repositioning himself. She quickly realized what he was doing: he was always moving into a position where he could receive a pass.
Fortunately, the space he occupied was one where even a center back like her could apply pressure, so the moment she understood, she closed in on him.
"Thud."
A pass arrived for Ha-neul. Paullina blocked the space he was about to take and waited for his next move.
But what came back was a back pass. After several back passes, a strange thought began to form in Paullina's mind.
'…What? Did I misjudge?'
At that slightly relaxed moment, another pass came to Ha-neul.
This time he would send a back pass, right?
With that naive thought in mind, her posture loosened. Then something shot up from behind Ha-neul's body.
'…Huh?!'
The instant she realized it was the ball, Ha-neul's body was already climbing over her.
"No!"
If she was pierced, there was only one goal in front of her!
Paullina spun quickly and chased after him. But her aging body couldn't reach the speed she wanted. If the distance had been a little longer, she might have caught him. Unfortunately, football was not a 100-meter race—it was a short 10- or 20-meter sprint.
"Stop!"
Ha-neul glanced back at her shout, but he didn't slow down. In fact, she wasn't sure he had even seen her. What was he doing? Checking where his teammates were?
Yet the sight of him dribbling at full speed while turning his head like that was almost awe-inspiring.
If this continued, shoulder-to-shoulder wrestling would be impossible for the rest of her life.
'Then…!'
Paullina wondered if it was right to do this to a young man, but this was a professional world. She sent a silent apology and reached toward his jersey to slow him down. At that exact moment, Ha-neul's body suddenly stopped.
It was an absurdly sudden brake, like a Formula 1 car slamming on the brakes at full speed.
But Paullina's body couldn't stop that quickly. Ha-neul vanished from her sight. She had gone too far forward.
When she turned back, Ha-neul was already running again.
Just as she sped up to chase him once more, a warning message flashed from her thigh. She was already thirty-four. If she got injured here, she might not have another chance. But right now, that didn't matter.
'If I can't catch…!'
If she couldn't catch him, then all that remained was to prepare for a foul. Only about five meters to the penalty area. Inside the box, a foul would be…!
Paullina trusted her teammate Yasmin to block the free kick and threw herself toward Ha-neul. The back of her thigh was still sending warnings, but she had to stop him now.
But,
"Huh?!"
Ha-neul in front spun once with the ball. A perfect Marseille Turn that gave her a thrill just to watch!
But the thrill died the moment she heard the dull thud from the leg that missed the ground.
"Kueup!"
Pain surged through her as she collapsed to the ground. And in her line of sight, Ha-neul appeared. Gabriela, who had played as her partner today, had tried a desperate tackle inside the box, but the tackle hadn't even touched the ball before it flew out.
And Ha-neul had leaped over that tackle, catching the ball with both feet.
Bang!
A light sound rang out. She couldn't see the shot because of Gabriela's body, but she didn't need to—she knew exactly what had happened.
"Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!!"
The roar of the crowd and the shaking net told her the result.
'…'
The pain rising from her thigh told her condition was serious. Maybe today was her last game as a player.
But what hurt more was the realization that, as a defender, she would never have another chance to block that man again.
If she had one more chance, one more chance… she would have stopped him perfectly next time.
"Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!"
So Paullina watched Ha-neul's ridiculous celebration—shouting his name while doing a ceremony—and quietly raised her hand toward the coach.