Equalizer at Anfield
With the first half nearly over, Southampton had barely held Liverpool's attack at bay. Bodies flung into the path of shots, balls cannoning off the woodwork—somehow, impossibly, they had kept the ball out of the net.
It was the kind of match people called a half-court game. Liverpool poured forward; Southampton clung on.
And then it happened.
Steven Gerrard's strike smashed against the post. The rebound fell to Jung Hyuk.
In the scramble that followed, Jung Hyuk stayed ice-calm, threading a dribble through two Liverpool players. Once clear of the penalty area, he surged into the counterattack at full speed. A quick one-two with Oh Jung-hoon left even Steven Gerrard in his wake.
And now—
A message bloomed before Jung Hyuk's eyes.
Agility has increased by 1.
Individual Skill has increased by 1.
Dribbling has increased by 1.
Jung Hyuk's face twisted. In a moment that demanded absolute focus, the messages were nothing but a distraction.
They still worked, though. Three attributes rising by a single point each—and yet the feel of it was different.
Focus.
He locked back in at once, driving the ball forward with renewed intensity. Liverpool players were closing hard from behind. Any drop in pace and a tackle would take him down. Worse, more of their defenders were already racing ahead of him.
Two of them… not easy, but I can break through.
It was a counterattack, and only two defenders stood in the way. Liverpool's back line was elite—no pushovers—but in a break this fast, the attacker with the ball always held the edge.
They had no choice. The Liverpool defenders were sprinting with their heads twisted over their shoulders, tracking every move Jung Hyuk made. He, meanwhile, had nothing to look at but the goal ahead.
Then more messages appeared.
You have escaped the pressure of world-class players!
Reward: 3 Points granted.
The effect of your S-class talent allows movements beyond your current abilities.
(Time Limit: 5 seconds)
Jung Hyuk's eyes went wide. He hadn't seen this coming. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Suddenly the messages weren't a distraction at all—they were the best news he could have asked for.
Three points, out of nowhere.
Ordinarily he would have poured them into Tackling to shore up a weakness. Not now.
Tackling won't help me here.
He ran through the attributes that would matter most in this exact moment—the ones that would let him beat two Liverpool center-backs. The ones that would fuel a breakthrough. The decision took no time at all.
You have spent 3 Points.
Dribbling has increased by 3.
Current Dribbling: 82
His speed was already enough. Faster would have been nice, but it wasn't the priority. What he needed most was dribbling—the kind that could slice through two elite defenders.
The moment the message confirmed Dribbling at 82, the feel shifted again. The ball clung tighter to his foot. Confidence surged through him—he could bend it to his will.
And on top of that, the special effect of his S-class talent was already active.
He could move beyond his limits now. Peak-form movement. Right here, right now.
Liverpool defender Martin Skrtel drove a heavy shoulder into him.
Thud!
Martin Skrtel was a defender built for physical duels, a specialist at using his body to shut attackers down. At 191 centimeters, he was a force in the air as well.
And right now, he was charging Jung Hyuk with everything he had—slamming into him, determined to break the surge.
Even if I take a yellow, cutting him off is worth it!
Whenever Skrtel threw his body into a runner like this, they went down. Training. Matches. Every time. He didn't doubt it for a second. This kid midfielder from Southampton would never withstand the hit.
Thud! Their bodies collided hard.
And then—
"What?"
Skrtel's expression locked up.
Jung Hyuk didn't go down. He drove back even harder.
Thud! They crashed together again.
A brutal shoulder battle erupted between them. Pain flared through Jung Hyuk's shoulder—not an injury, just the raw force of the collision.
Damn… Skrtel's strong.
He was genuinely surprised. The starting center-back of a club like Liverpool really was a different class. It felt like running into a slab of stone.
But Jung Hyuk could still smile.
I can hold this.
He had been stacking muscle for months, grinding physical training without mercy. And right now the special effect of his S-class talent was live. The duel with Skrtel was something he could endure.
Skrtel jammed his shoulder in harder, trying to seize the advantage the way a top defender always did when pure strength wasn't enough.
Jung Hyuk didn't fight it. He gave up the shoulder almost too easily—and in the same breath spun with the ball. Whoosh! A beautiful turn at full sprint. Skrtel's balance shattered; he went sprawling to the turf. Scrape!
Another defender closed in at once—Daniel Agger, Liverpool's other center-back, a master of one-on-one marking.
Agger stuck tight and read Jung Hyuk's feet, timing a clean tackle. Perfect execution. But in that same instant Jung Hyuk twisted his body the opposite diagonal, slipping clean past the challenge.
Tap! He knocked the ball long and exploded after it. Blistering pace. The gap between him and Agger opened in a heartbeat. Only Liverpool's keeper, Simon Mignolet, remained.
Thud-thud-thud-thud! Mignolet charged off his line. For a goalkeeper he had serious speed, and the distance closed fast—exactly the kind of pressure that rattled most finishers.
Jung Hyuk was ice.
With a calm expression he drove the ball hard toward the far corner. Crack! No mistake. Clean contact, struck with the keeper rushing out fully in view.
A shot Simon Mignolet had no chance of stopping.
Swish!
The score was level.
The moment Jung Hyuk's equalizer hit the net, a roar erupted across Anfield—Liverpool's legendary home ground. It came from the Southampton fans who had been coiled tight all match, finally unleashed.
Jung Hyuk clenched a fist. A shiver ran through him. Goals scored when the team was drowning always hit different.
At the same time, Korean fans watching the match leapt from their seats and screamed. It was the kind of goal that made sitting still impossible.
Soccer communities across the internet detonated with heat.
The consensus among Korean fans was clear: Jung Hyuk had the quality to hurt even the strongest sides. Scoring a goal like that against Liverpool—a Big Four club—was all the proof anyone needed.
And right now, Mauricio Pochettino, who had watched the goal live, had completely lost control of his expression. Eyes wide, he stared at Jung Hyuk.
Incredible! Absolutely incredible! How does someone that age pull off a performance that insane?
He couldn't help being stunned. A one-man show—not against some mid-table side, but against Liverpool.
And Jung Hyuk was only seventeen.
At that age, a performance like this simply shouldn't exist.
Is this even possible……?
Pochettino found himself thinking that with Jung Hyuk, anything felt achievable. That this kid could put the ball in the net against any team in the world. That was how special he was—a player who radiated the aura of a goal every single match.
……Should I start using him as a striker?
He was even starting to wonder whether he ought to deploy him up front.
At the same moment, Jung Hyuk was pumping both arms toward the Southampton supporters, whipping the team's energy higher. One player watched him do it—short brown hair, pale skin, the man they called Liverpool's captain.
Haah……
Steven Gerrard let out a hollow laugh.
"Unbelievable."
The truth was, Gerrard already knew Jung Hyuk. More than knew him—he'd been watching carefully. He was a footballer, yes, but he was also a fan. Southampton matches with Jung Hyuk in them were must-watch television. The kid always delivered something that made you sit up.
But Gerrard had been certain it wouldn't translate against Liverpool. As a world-class midfielder, he trusted his own quality. He had never doubted they would beat Southampton.
And yet—
"To put on a show like this against us……"
That young Korean was doing against Liverpool exactly what he had done against everyone else. That was what stunned Steven Gerrard.
"He's only seventeen, right?"
A player like that—at seventeen……
Gerrard laughed again, empty and amazed.
When a goal arrives in a desperate situation—one man already sent off—a team's atmosphere transforms. If that goal is an equalizer, if it comes in first-half stoppage time, the lift is even greater. And if it is born from a dazzling breakthrough against a powerhouse side, the surge of momentum becomes almost limitless.
That was Southampton right now.
Until the goal, they had been thoroughly dominated by Liverpool—trapped in a half-court game, absorbing shot after shot, any one of which could have buried them. And then they scored instead.
A goal crafted by Jung Hyuk, the team's new ace.
The first half ended almost immediately after. The goal itself had come in added time.
"Hahaha! We might actually win this!"
"The second we went down to ten men I was sure we were done—but now I've got hope!"
"Jung Hyuk is our treasure! Haha! Let's ride this into the second half and turn it around!"
"Jung Hyuk is unreal! Where the hell did a kid like that even come from?"
The Southampton locker room rang with the voices of players riding high.
And the one most responsible for that atmosphere—Jung Hyuk—wore an awkward expression. He couldn't join the celebration the way the others could.
What is this?
It was because of the message that had appeared the moment the half ended.
◈ Black Card granted