Chapter 13

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Translator: Silver Dragon

Chapter: 13

Chapter Title: Hala Madrid Transfer & vs Granada (1)

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I'd rented a mansion in Madrid, and word of that spread like wildfire.

And, as in any country, there were trashy reporters. They had the mansion swarmed, so I couldn't even step outside.

"Hey, they sent an official notice asking if you're available for national team duty?"

"What? The World Cup just ended."

"Nah, East Asian Cup."

"Tell 'em to buzz off. No World Cup, no go."

"Hmm. Olympics too?"

"Yeah. Olympics too."

After all, I'd swept the East Asian Cup and Olympic gold in past rounds. The condition for winning the World Cup with South Korea stayed the same.

"What about military exemption?"

"Hyung, we're orphans."

"Oh, right."

Military service couldn't hold me back either. I had zero intention of playing A-matches outside World Cup finals and qualifiers.

"Tell the association this: if they force me, who knows what I'll do."

"...I'll soften it a bit for the association."

"Yeah."

He'd handle it. Even in the last round, the association sorted things out smoothly on their own.

Man, nothing to do in this mansion.

"Maybe I should do a streaming broadcast."

To aid Jesus Joo's adaptation, the association decided against calling him up for the East Asian Cup. They also expressed concerns over the national team's grueling travel schedule impacting his career, announcing they'd refrain from call-ups outside World Cup finals A-matches and final qualifiers.

Netizens online were split: traitors rejecting the nation's call versus the association finally doing something right.

Time flies. I got immersed in a game, and suddenly it's the winter transfer window.

"Isn't the break too short? Should I extend it by a month?"

My offhand mutter darkened Kim Doo-sik's expression. He quietly reminded me of the contract terms.

"Jesus."

"Yeah?"

"Think about the contract."

"Oh. Right."

Real Madrid had slapped a leash on this wild child Jesus Joo. I'd gladly agreed: no more kung fu kicks ever, and in return, I could skip team training twice a month.

Somewhere, Manchester United's king let out a wistful sigh.

But the world isn't all about kicks.

"Hmm. Guess I'll practice slapping the back of heads then. 'Jesus Slap' as a nickname would be nice."

Hmm. Words fail me.

"People call him a brat from Korea, but we know."

"He did it to return home!"

"The Angel of Madrid, with Real's glory!"

"The history he'll write for Real is endless!"

Nuñez told me the signing ceremony drew a record crowd surpassing Ronaldo's No. 1 (75,000).

But seeing it firsthand? On another level.

Madridistas screaming my chant at the top of their lungs.

Looking at them, my chest swelled with warmth, and I blurted it out in the interview.

The fans, inspired, improvised a new chant on the spot. I applauded them as the ceremony wrapped.

After the hype-filled signing, donning the white kit for my debut? Fate or coincidence—FC Granada. The same place I'd worn Barcelona colors in the first half. Stepping into Estadio Nuevo Los Cármenes in white, Granada fans cheered my name.

Thwack—

Hmm. The life of a star.

I waved to my haters.

Seeing ecstatic Granada fans warmed my heart.

I scored with the same pattern as Barcelona vs Granada last time and headed to that familiar spot, flashing my number to the Granada fans as promised.

Uncle, smile. Yeah?
Special peek at my number.
No. 18!

Granada fans' ecstatic roars reached me.

Ha. Me—a magnetic man turning rival supporters into fans.

Wrapping up the successful celebration, on my way back...

The ref hit me with a yellow and a earnest plea.

Huh? Why the weird look, like I'm some freak?

The ref left after the warning.

That said, Granada's pomegranate red really is stunning.

Should compliment it in the Man of the Match interview.

As I pondered that, Luka Savić—the genius behind the through ball—approached quietly.

"Great finish."

"Great pass."

Hmm. A pass shuttle different from the fiery Luis García.