Little Boy and the Korea-Japan Match - 2
Watching Utilike's interview, I was overcome with shock and horror.
"What the hell, Utilike? Why's he like that?"
The typical stoic, boring German guy was unleashing some god-tier interview skills.
Silence fell over the mixed zone on screen. Having turned the place into a wasteland with that short interview, Utilike savored the stares pouring his way as he leisurely sipped his water.
Once the interview wrapped, the Japan Football Association fired off a protest letter to the Korea Football Association. Utilike issued his own explanation to the press.
Utilike's explanation seemed reasonable enough—FIFA only slapped him with a light fine. I let out a small sigh of admiration.
"It actually worked out like that?"
Time flew by to the day of the Korea vs. Japan match. The kids from Jesus Orphanage, who had received tickets from Jesus himself, entered the stadium with excited faces.
"Whoaaa— this is where Jesus bro plays?"
Maria, who ran the YouTube channel Daily Life at Jesus Orphanage, looked around with sparkling eyes.
"Kids, don't make too much noise—don't bother the people around us."
Following Maria came JuAdam, who had shone in the U-20 World Cup. People murmured at his appearance.
"Isn't that JuAdam?" "Yeah, looks like it."
A few fans recognized him and asked for autographs, and JuAdam's shoulders naturally puffed up.
While JuAdam signed and posed for photos with his fans, the orphanage kids huddled together off to the side.
"Hey! It's Jesus hyung!" "Hyung! Over here! Here!"
The kids raised their voices upon spotting Jesus warming up on the pitch. Someone watching with displeasure grumbled.
"Tch. Orphans are all the same."
JuAdam shot the guy a fierce glare.
"…."
The man shrank, eyes dropping silently.
Having heard the kids, Jesus approached the stands. He scanned around before asking Maria, who was filming him.
"Ria, didn't the director mom come?" "She said she's in the bathroom!"
The kids, thrilled to see Jesus after so long, bombarded him with questions.
"Hyung! You coming to the orphanage next time?" "Of course. If I'm busy, you guys can come watch me like today."
As kickoff neared, Jesus headed back to the pitch to warm up.
"Ah, gotta go warm up. See you kids after the game." "Jesus hyung! Play well!" "Jesus oppa, don't get hurt!!"
Jesus waved to the cheering kids and returned to the field. Soon after, the Korea-Japan match kicked off at the World Cup Stadium in Sangam.
Japan's national team players entered with grim determination.
They had finished second in the group behind Korea, but only one point separated them from third-place Iraq, making victory crucial.
The ref's whistle blew, and Japan kicked off. The stands, dyed red, erupted into chants right from the start.
"A~rirang~ A~rirang~ A~ra ri yo~"
Maybe it was the crowd's energy, but a Japanese player made a mistake under the pressure. Kim Jinsu snatched the ball, and Korea counterattacked.
Kim Jinsu, who played prettier than he looked, lofted a through ball to sprinting Go Seokjun.
Korea's perfect counter chance.
Go Seokjun raced full tilt for the ball, but Kim Jinsu's pass was a tad too long.
The ball rolled out past the touchline—Japan's throw-in. Even though it went out, Go Seokjun gave Kim Jinsu a thumbs-up for the well-timed pass.
Watching that, I suddenly missed the crazy poodle Luis Garcia and the quiet smarty Luka Savic back at Real Madrid.
"Sigh... Still, reading the pass length ain't bad."
Korea's attacks stalled under Japan's organized press, so I dropped back a bit to join the midfield battle.
"Jesus is dropping deep to take on the playmaker role."
"Ah... A striker dropping back isn't ideal, but Jesus is different. We can expect big things."
"Whoa... The moment Jesus drops, Korea's movement changes levels!"
"See that? He's directing where everyone runs—total midfield commander!"
"Jesus links up with Kim Jinsu in a one-two, peeling off Japan's defense!"
Receiving Kim Jinsu's return pass near the penalty box, I shrugged off Japan's centerback and curled a beauty with my right instep.
The ball traced a gorgeous arc into the top corner. Massive roars shook the Seoul World Cup Stadium.
"WAAAAAAAAAAH—!"
After scoring, I ran to the Jesus Orphanage kids and celebrated right in front of them.
"Jesus invited the kids from the orphanage where he grew up for this match. They're thrilled with his goal."
"Indeed. We also spot JuAdam, who starred in the U-20 World Cup."
"Keep an eye on promising prospects like Juyun and Junasaret for the U-17 World Cup this November."
My goal opened the floodgates for Korea. Japan couldn't handle the firepower.
I distributed the ball here and there, breaking their press. In the 15th minute, Go Seokjun added one off my killer pass. As the scoreline widened, Japan began to sink.
"Chikusho—! Don't give up! Think of the fans back home cheering us on, you bastards!"
I spotted Japan captain Kurosaki Hanabi rallying his team—the same guy I'd sniped during his motivational speech in the last Korea-Japan clash.
"I'll never give up, even if it kills me!!"
Amamiya Takehiro, whose jaw I'd nearly dislocated before, teared up and shouted back.
I don't speak Japanese, so all I caught were basics like chikusho and baka yarou. Were they cursing me? But their faces said otherwise, so I held off.
Whatever they said fired them up—Japan's eyes reignited. The romantic striker Jesus, lover of never-say-die foes, was moved.
"Aah... This lord is touched. So I'll send you off painlessly."
25th minute.
I blasted Japan's centerback away on Kim Dongjun's overlapping cross and headed home the winner. In front of the despairing Japanese, I raised both arms and spun a helicopter celebration.
35th minute.
Next thing I knew, I was in the net with the ball.
A few Japanese players lay on the pitch sobbing.
The ref handed me a yellow.
40th minute.
As I entered the box, Kurosaki Hanabi grabbed my jersey, so I went down clean.
The ref, watching up close, blew for a penalty.
"No no no, Hollywood!"
Kurosaki Hanabi protested to the ref about the dive, but he shook his head firmly.
"Trust me! I'll definitely save it!"
Japan's keeper grabbed fouler Kurosaki Hanabi's face, saying something.
I placed the ball on the spot, 11 meters out, waiting for the whistle.
Beep—!
I charged and smashed it top right corner.
Goal. I bolted straight to Coach Utilike.
As the broadcast cam closed in on my celebration, I pointed right at his massive gut.
"Fatman!"