Advancing to the U-20 Final
Jung Hyuk surged forward with the ball at his feet. Five French players stood guard around the penalty box ahead of him.
One midfielder and four defenders. Every one of them possessed physiques so impressive it was hard to believe they were still teenagers.
Even facing them, Jung Hyuk’s movement carried not a shred of hesitation. Confidence radiated from every stride.
First up was the nearest French midfielder, Kondogbia.
Currently starring for AS Monaco and already showcasing his talent, he stood well over 185 cm with a powerful frame. His individual technique was excellent, but he was especially strong defensively—today assigned to shield the more attack-minded Pogba from behind.
And right now, he stepped up to stop Jung Hyuk, who had just stripped the ball from Pogba.
Kondogbia.
Jung Hyuk knew him. He knew Kondogbia would one day play for Inter with that same talent. But none of that mattered now.
S-class talent effect: movements exceeding your current abilities are now possible.
(Time limit: 10 seconds)
With the special effect of his S-class talent active, there was no player Jung Hyuk could not beat. If this were the Premier League or the Champions League, maybe it would be different.
But this was the U-20s—still unfinished young players. With his past-life senses restored, Jung Hyuk was certain he could leave every one of them in his wake.
Whoosh! Flick! Jung Hyuk tapped the ball short and ran, rocking his upper body left and right. Kondogbia tracked him with sharp eyes. But Jung Hyuk’s speed was simply too great. He sold a feint as if bursting left, then exploded to the right.
Thud! Jung Hyuk’s leg clipped lightly against Kondogbia’s outstretched foot. He staggered for a heartbeat, then recovered his balance. He had beaten Kondogbia, but it had cost him a fraction of a second. In that window, two more players stepped into his path.
Jung Hyuk leaned his upper body forward as if to drive through, simultaneously nudging the ball ahead. Thump!
The French defenders swarmed in to cut off the breakthrough. At that exact moment Jung Hyuk twisted his body onto a right diagonal, deliberately reducing the number of opponents he had to face. Whoosh! Charging along that diagonal, he suddenly changed direction again.
“Huk! Stop him!”
The abrupt cut onto the left diagonal sent the French back line scrambling after him. But the space Jung Hyuk wanted had already opened wide.
This is enough.
He sprinted full tilt into that space. Thump! Ta-dat! The feint followed by explosive acceleration left both defenders behind.
Inside the box another defender closed on him. At the same instant Jung Hyuk spun. Whoosh! A perfect Marseille turn. The French defender who had lunged to body him never even made contact.
Jung Hyuk’s face tightened. Strong resistance pulled at him from behind—the unmistakable feel of a shirt being yanked.
You’re going to foul me? Inside the penalty box?
Must be desperate. Even under that heavy drag, Jung Hyuk kept the ball under control, constantly scanning the movements of the defenders around him.
French players were clinging to his back; ahead stood the French defender Zouma.
Jung Hyuk’s eyes flashed. He had found the gap.
With his pre-regression instincts fully restored, he was confident in his shooting as well.
Just before the defenders could completely surround him, Jung Hyuk swung his leg at the ball. A surprise shot a full beat early. Boom—the ball left his foot with a wicked curve, a clean inside-foot curl. Whoosh! It arced over Zouma’s body and arrowed toward the far corner of the net.
“Huk!”
French goalkeeper Areola’s eyes flew wide.
The shot had come far too quickly, and it had been screened by his own teammate. Before Areola could even react, Jung Hyuk’s strike rattled the net.
Swish—
In that same instant, French defender Zouma bellowed.
“You cowardly bastard!”
Jung Hyuk grinned at him.
“Football’s a sport about scoring goals. I’ll deal with you next time.”
France’s overall quality was clearly superior. The gap in individual talent was so large that they dominated Korea in almost every aspect.
Even Jung Hyuk was struggling. France isolated him completely. Their players circled him constantly, denying him the ball, cutting off every passing lane before it could form.
The ball simply never arrived. In that situation Jung Hyuk tried to win it himself, but it was no easy task. France never held possession long; they moved the ball quickly with short, sharp passes, never allowing a chance for a steal.
Under that rhythm, getting on the ball became nearly impossible for him.
They’re making this difficult.
Tch. Jung Hyuk clicked his tongue.
It had been a long time since he had faced this level of concentrated marking.
It felt exactly like watching the Champions League semifinal between Inter and Barcelona from his previous life. Back then José Mourinho had stopped Lionel Messi—something no other manager had managed.
The method was almost identical to what France was doing to Jung Hyuk now.
Mourinho had isolated Messi completely and shut down every dribbling lane. He made it hard for Messi even to receive the ball, and the moment he did, multiple players swarmed him with ferocious pressure.
Jung Hyuk was living through something very similar.
In a situation like this, frustration was inevitable.
Yet he did not despair.
I’ll have to change styles.
He was a man who had played football for nearly thirty years. Capable of filling multiple positions, he could also play multiple styles.
He already knew how to break this stifling deadlock.
His gaze locked onto the key that would unlock the present situation.
Up front, Oh Jung-hoon was locked in constant battle with the French defenders.
Jung-hoon, it’s time for you to go wild.
At that moment Oh Jung-hoon looked back at him. Their eyes met.
Jung Hyuk gave a small nod—the signal to fight even dirtier.
In reply, Oh Jung-hoon winked.
A gesture that stood in for an answer.
Still…
That kid’s been getting weirder lately.
To Jung Hyuk’s eyes it looked only strange.
He did understand me properly… right?
Despite the worry, Oh Jung-hoon delivered exactly the play Jung Hyuk wanted.
Thud!
Against French defender Umtiti, Oh Jung-hoon refused to lose the physical duel. He held his ground and protected the ball.
He did more than just shield it. He laid it off to a teammate racing into space.
Thump—Oh Jung-hoon’s pass found Kwon Jang-hoon, who one-touched it straight to Jung Hyuk. Because the ball moved so quickly, the pressure on Jung Hyuk loosened for a single precious second.
The moment I take this, the press will crash in.
Jung Hyuk was a veteran. Experience had taught him exactly which type of attack was most efficient here. Thump! He did not trap the rolling ball; he struck it immediately with curve. Whoosh—the ball bent into the French penalty area. A razor-sharp cross. And Jung Hyuk’s movement did not end there. The instant the ball left his foot he sprinted outside the box.
The curling delivery headed for Oh Jung-hoon’s forehead.
Crack! Oh Jung-hoon and Umtiti both rose. All day Oh Jung-hoon had won every aerial duel against Umtiti. He won this one too. Thump—he did not send the ball toward goal. He dropped it perfectly into the path of the onrushing Jung Hyuk.
And Jung Hyuk hit it first time.
Bang!
A clean strike off the laces. The low, skimming shot bored toward the far corner.
Ta-dat! Whoosh! Goalkeeper Areola launched himself, stretching full length to his right. His reaction speed was excellent; his fingertips brushed the ball. But—
Tick!
The ball kissed those fingertips and still rolled cruelly into the net.
“Uwaaaaaah!”
Areola roared in fury.
The French players around him dropped their heads.
A second goal conceded. Both goals had come on the counter after France had been pressing high. For them, it was a bitter situation.
When they finally lifted their faces again, every cheek was flushed red.
And Jung Hyuk’s mouth curved upward.
Finally the atmosphere has shifted.
In football, momentum is everything. A team that catches fire can suddenly produce performances far beyond their usual level. That was Korea right now.
They had scored while still being outplayed; now they were matching France stride for stride.
Slash! Korean fullback Shim Chang-min threw himself into a tackle and won the ball from Kondogbia. The counter was on. Shim sprang up and launched a long ball to Kim Seon-wook ahead of him. Thump! Kim Seon-wook raced down the French left flank and whipped in a cross aimed at Oh Jung-hoon, who had been dominating in the air all day.
“Clear it!”
The French defense was in full emergency mode. Having felt the full force of Oh Jung-hoon’s heading, they had to stop him at all costs.
Then fortune smiled on France. Kim Seon-wook’s ambitious cross lacked accuracy. Too much power in the leg sent the ball sailing over the leaping Oh Jung-hoon’s head.
Thud! French fullback Foulquier claimed the long clearance. He immediately booted it long toward a teammate upfield. Boom! The ball traveled low and fast. Jung Hyuk read the trajectory and threw himself at it, but his timing was a fraction late. The ball reached Paul Pogba untouched.
Pogba took one touch and sprayed a long diagonal pass to the left. He had spotted a teammate already running.
Boom—the ball left Pogba’s foot and dropped perfectly onto the toes of Behebek charging down Korea’s left flank. A delivery so precise it deserved to be called a courier cross.
The attack unfolded in a blink. Behebek received Pogba’s pass and immediately laid a ground ball into the box. French striker Sanogo, already making his run, met the rolling ball with his foot. Thump!
That was all it took.
The ball Sanogo touched rolled into a direction the goalkeeper never anticipated and nestled in the net.
Beeeeeep!
Halftime.
In the locker room the players sat and listened intently to Manager Yoo Jung-seok.
“Outstanding. You’re all doing brilliantly. Today you’re showing the best football of your lives. With this level of performance we can absolutely beat France. But!”
Yoo Jung-seok fixed every player with a hard stare.
“If you keep the same mindset we have right now, we will lose. I want you to remember every single second that this match carries the pride of our nation. You are here as representatives chosen by your country. So… treat the second half as if you are going to war.”
The players’ expressions changed. Their eyes changed. The weary, drained look vanished, replaced by pure competitive fire.
“You can be rougher. Don’t back down—fight. Pour everything out there and come back.”
When he finished speaking, Yoo Jung-seok looked at Jung Hyuk.
I’m counting on you, Hyuk.
Jung Hyuk met his manager’s gaze with a calm face.
Then he smiled.
To Yoo Jung-seok that smile felt like a quiet promise: Trust me.
Honestly… this kid really does inspire confidence.
A faint smile touched the manager’s own lips as well.
Beeeeeep!
The match between Korea and France was over.
Players from both sides collapsed onto the grass.
A game in which everything had been poured out. They were so exhausted they could barely stand.
Each player’s reaction was different. Some wept tears of pure emotion. Some clasped their hands in prayer. Others shed fat, frustrated tears of regret.
That was a hard match.
Jung Hyuk sat on the ground catching his breath as well.
It had been difficult. He had been marked tightly the entire game and had taken more than a few rough fouls.
Good thing I changed my approach.
Switching to a style that used his teammates had worked perfectly. Every time France focused on Jung Hyuk, another Korean player found space and opportunity.
From the second half onward Korea had stepped onto the pitch with the mindset of going to war. They no longer avoided physical battles—they sought them out and hit harder. They gritted their teeth and ran until nothing was left.
They had truly given everything.
And the result—
You have advanced to the U-20 World Cup Final!
A card has been awarded as a reward.
The Republic of Korea had reached the final of the U-20 World Cup.