Learning How to Use It
The moment my conversation with Chiesa ended, every last bit of tension drained out of my body at once.
It had been a long time since I'd set foot on a Torino FC first-team pitch.
My minutes hadn't been long, but spending the entire match cycling through zonal defending and cover work against Juventus had already left my stamina scraped down to nothing.
I need to get into the dressing room and rest.
With that thought, I started walking slowly toward the tunnel.
That was when it happened.
"Teo!"
A club staffer called out and stopped me in a hurry.
"Teo, you've got to do an interview."
"...What?"
I stared at him with a blank look. The idea that a rookie who'd barely just made his debut would be pulled for an interview had never crossed my mind.
But the broadcast crew already had cameras ready, and before I knew it I was being steered toward the interview spot.
A female reporter with a microphone was waiting in front of the camera.
"Hello. I'm Elena from Sportivo Italia."
She offered a bright smile and held out her hand.
"Congratulations on being named Man of the Match today."
I shook her hand half on autopilot.
"Thank you."
Elena launched straight into her first question.
"This was essentially your first first-team match, and yet you put in an incredible performance. How are you feeling right now?"
I took a breath, then answered calmly.
"Well… I never expected to be thrown on against a side as strong as Juventus. So I think that actually let me play my game without much pressure."
Even I thought it was a perfectly safe answer.
And then, in that exact moment—
A familiar window floated up in front of my eyes with a single question mark.
Huh…? All of a sudden?
But I understood what the question mark meant almost immediately.
Ah. Right.
It's basically calling me an idiot for not using it…
I felt like a complete fool.
Devil's Tongue.
During a match—or in a public setting like this—criticizing an opponent either granted me a beneficial ability or stripped away one that was holding me back.
To meet the condition, I had to turn the interview genuinely aggressive.
This is insane…
That means I have to torch this interview…
Can I even do that? I'm a rookie…
I could feel my own face hardening in real time.
Elena found the look strange, but she pressed on with her second question anyway.
"Today you went head-to-head with Juventus's attack—Di María, Vlahović, Chiesa, and the rest. What was your impression of facing them?"
It was an utterly ordinary question. But I kept my mouth shut for several seconds, thinking it over. Then I finally opened it.
"…Can I be honest?"
Elena looked briefly flustered, but she kept her smile and nodded twice.
"Of course."
I didn't hesitate.
"Honestly, Juventus's attack wasn't all that threatening."
The air went cold in an instant.
The reporters nearby and the camera director filming us all looked like they'd just sensed something was about to go off the rails.
I ignored the atmosphere completely and kept going.
"Di María is old. That dazzling ability he used to have was barely on display. Looking at his current level coldly, I have to wonder whether he even belongs at a top Serie A side. Juventus must be idiots."
Elena's eyes went wide. Camera shutters started firing in a rapid burst.
"And Dušan Vlahović…"
I let the pause hang, then said it flatly.
"He feels like a giant bubble."
This time the reaction around us was more confused than anything.
"He looked massive, but popping that bubble wasn't as hard as you'd think. You could honestly say he barely did anything all match."
Even the camera director froze for a second, staring at me.
That was when the window with text floated up again.
Devil's Tongue conditions are being met.
Yes!
Relieved, I scrambled to salvage things a little.
"But Chiesa was different."
Everyone's eyes snapped back to me.
"I think Chiesa was the only player in this Juventus side who actually attacked like a top Serie A team. He left the strongest impression."
Elena rushed to smooth the mood over.
"Ah… right! So you rated Chiesa very highly, then."
I could see it plain as day—she was forcing a smile, trying to wrap the interview up.
Wait… is this actually enough?
Don't tell me the condition still isn't fully met…
I was waiting anxiously when Elena suddenly listened to something through her earpiece, and her expression shifted slightly.
Orders had come down from above: ask a follow-up.
She looked at me again.
"Teo. Today Torino FC became a major obstacle in Juventus's Scudetto race. What did you think of Torino FC's performance in a match like that?"
I pretended to think for a moment, then tilted my head.
"…Hold on."
Then I put on a look of genuine confusion.
"Juventus is thinking about the Scudetto?"
Elena blinked.
"…Excuse me?"
"After playing a match like that?"
The reporters' faces started hardening all over again.
I carried on as if nothing were wrong.
"Yeah… that shouldn't be happening."
Elena hurried to explain.
"Well, Juventus is still very much in the title race on points."
I shook my head immediately.
"But let's be honest—Torino FC is always a mid-table side."
I let a beat pass, then said it coldly.
"If you're a team chasing the Scudetto, you don't draw against a mid-table side like us. From that standpoint, I think today's match ended Juventus's title challenge. We're the ones who finished it, basically, and I'm satisfied with that."
Elena couldn't get a word out. I added one last line.
"Some people might not like my opinion. In that case, they should've won."
Then I shrugged and finished it off casually.
"And to be even more honest, Juventus nearly lost today. You could say they got lucky with this result."
The second the interview ended, Elena forced a smile just to get the broadcast closed out.
Even a reporter leaning toward the Torino FC side had never expected a youth player to come out and say something like that so openly.
The journalists stared at each other in disbelief, then scrambled to start writing their pieces.
Devil's Tongue conditions have been barely met.
One random negative trait will be removed for the next match.
I, on the other hand, looked at the text floating at the edge of my vision and let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Wait—barely? And what's with the random?
A bad thought hit me a second later.
If Triangle Foot disappears… wouldn't that actually be a loss?
The negative trait Arrhythmia will be temporarily removed through the next match.
Whew… thank god.
Only after the interview was over did I finally exhale and head for the locker room. Somehow the interview had felt more exhausting than the match itself.
The moment I stepped into the dressing room, the players' eyes flicked toward me for a second. The first one to approach was the vice-captain, Alessandro Buongiorno.
"Your name was… Teo Kang, right?"
He smiled and held out his hand.
"Should I call you Kang?"
I shook my head right away.
"No. Just Teo is fine. I'm glad it's a name that sounds natural in Italy."
"Yeah? Then Teo it is."
Buongiorno clapped me on the shoulder and grinned wide.
"You were really good today. Honestly, we were pretty worried. The right center-back spot was already shaky, and on top of that we never expected Captain Rodriguez to drop out all of a sudden."
He sighed, then pointed at me.
"But you came in and basically filled that whole hole. You were excellent. And it was the derby against Juventus. If we'd lost, the locker room would've been a complete mess."
"I just did what I was supposed to do. It's fine."
Buongiorno nodded, satisfied.
"Good. Glad to hear it."
He looked at me for a moment, then let out a short laugh.
"But Teo."
"Yeah?"
"Why do you vanish the second training ends and never really hang out with the guys? Are you the type who keeps his distance on purpose? If so, we'll just keep matching that energy."
Ah… so that's what they were thinking.
Well, if you're part of the captain group, I guess that tracks.
I scratched my head and gave an awkward smile.
"Ah… that's because I still have to go to school."
Buongiorno's face said oh, right.
"In the mornings the other players do their basic training, but I'm at school then. So by the time I get to the training ground, I'm already behind on the morning fundamentals. I have to rush through catch-up work just to get my body ready, barely make it through team training, and then when I get home I've still got homework and studying… I'm just short on time."
"Ah…"
"And because of my family's wishes I ended up at a regular elite high school instead of a sports-focused one like the other guys… I honestly don't have the bandwidth to work on team bonding on top of everything else. I'd like to hang out with everyone, but…"
Buongiorno nodded hard, like he got it immediately.
"Got it."
Then a mischievous smile crept onto his face.
"In that case, when the season's over and I call you for a vacation trip together, you're not allowed to bail."
"What?"
"You have to come."
I laughed and answered right away.
"Of course. How could I skip something like that?"
"Good. It's a promise."
We were having a perfectly nice conversation when something suddenly hit me.
"…Ah!"
Buongiorno looked puzzled.
"What?"
"I forgot something."
I stood up in a hurry.
"It's important. I'll be right back."
I was about to walk out of the dressing room when I stopped again at the door.
Wait… showing up empty-handed is a little weird, isn't it?
I thought it over for a second, then grabbed one of the still-clean spare kits.
This is better.
And I headed straight for the Juventus away locker room.
When I reached the visitors' area, someone was already waiting for me.
Federico Chiesa.
"Over here."
He spotted me and gave a light wave.
"Sorry!"
Chiesa tilted his head.
"Hm?"
"I got grabbed for an interview. And even after I made it into the dressing room, people kept pulling me aside."
Chiesa laughed and waved it off.
"It's fine. Of course they would."
He held out the jersey he'd been carrying.
"Here."
I reached for it naturally—then paused, sensing something off.
"Huh?"
The jersey was far too clean.
"This isn't the one you wore in the match."
Chiesa grinned as he explained.
"I could've given you the one from the game, but I deliberately brought a new one."
He unfolded one side of the jersey.
A thick black signature was written clearly across it.
"I had to sign it, you know. It's hard to put a signature on something soaked in sweat. Considering what you're after, isn't this better?"
Chiesa smiled. I nodded in genuine admiration.
Holy hell. This is perfect.
Mateo, you bastard—I can't wait to see your face.