Chapter 18
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Translator: Silver Dragon
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: El Santo de Madrid -1
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After securing a resounding 3:0 victory over Atlético Madrid, my name value had skyrocketed even further.
"Whoa, that's some sharp analysis."
A program specializing in professional soccer breakdowns was meticulously dissecting my play from the Real Madrid versus Atlético Madrid match footage.
"Oh. Look at that pinpoint pass from there! Jesus, his goal-linking assists, his defense—he's insane! What can't this guy do?! That's your true flawless striker right there."
The analyst uncle gushing over my play.
But then Analyst 2 uncle chimed in to counter him.
"Hmm. I have to disagree with that opinion."
"What? Disagree?"
Analyst 2 uncle jabbed his index finger forward with unwavering conviction.
"Yes. Player Jesus has one single flaw."
His demeanor left even me, watching the broadcast, utterly baffled.
"What the hell? What flaw do I have?!"
Analyst 1 uncle popped up on screen, looking just as unconvinced as I was.
"Oh. You see that display and still call it a flaw? What exactly is it?"
Analyst 2 uncle smugly launched into his explanation.
"It doesn't show up much in this game, but look at his other matches, and you'll see Jesus's one weakness."
Both I and Analyst 1 stared holes into him, dying of curiosity.
"Other games? What is it?!"
His answer came out.
"Laziness. And aside from that, he's perfect in every aspect on the pitch."
Analyst 1 uncle went,
"Ah."
And I said,
"Fair enough."
I had to concede.
Damn, that uncle's got a keen eye.
That was when I was munching on fruit and watching the TV program. My smartphone buzzed.
Bzzz-
Who could it be? Yu-na sis?
I checked the phone. It wasn't Yu-na sis—it was a message from a former colleague at my old job.
(Barcelona contract termination article.)
¡Vamos! I'm heading to Real Madrid!
Babe, you didn't make some other guy while I was gone, right?
What a lunatic.
You lunatic. Cut the crap, please.
Oh. Señorita. What on earth changed you like this!
Call me señorita one more time, and I'll launch water rockets at every ball you pass to me.
Sorry, My Lord.
I nodded as I exchanged messages with Luis García.
Now, after the next home game, we'd head to Girona for Copa del Rey, then El Clásico at Barcelona's home stadium, Camp Nou. At least I'd have a sturdy meat shield.
No way the Barça fans would ignore their recently transferred "New Idiot" Luis, whom they'd been showering with affection, and come after me instead.
And right then, my antics in Barcelona flashed before my eyes like a montage. I swallowed hard.
Hmm... Better pack some anti-spit gear just in case.
Exciting. Seeing you score off my passes.
Busy, so shut up now.
Yes, Your Majesty.
I'd finally silenced the noisy Luis and was about to refocus on the TV when...
Bzzz-
My phone buzzed again. I couldn't help yelling.
"Puta! What the hell is it now?!"
Then I saw the sender.
[Yu-na sis ♥]
I quickly pulled off a rapid turnaround.
"As expected, my love! You knew I was bored and messaged me!"
(Photo)(Photo)(Photo) Jesus, what should I wear when I come to Spain next month?
Having you is all I need, sis? (￣ ³￣)
I fired off my killer line with a smug, satisfied grin.
Heh. Yu-na sis must be too embarrassed to reply.
Time passed. Then her response made me freeze solid.
Jesus! Where'd you learn to say that?! You sound like some old geezer! (ʘᗩʘ’)
My 234-year-old rotten mentality shattered in that instant.
.
.
.
.
Jesus! See you next month!
Still a whole month away... so sad. (´＿｀)
Jesus, I love you! (￣ ³￣)
ლ(´◉❥◉｀ლ) Yeah! Love you too.
[Luis García transfers to Real Madrid: 'Happy to be in Madrid. Hala Madrid!']
[Barcelona fans: 'The disgusting big pig and little pig were ruining the team.']
League Round 20: Real Madrid vs Deportivo Alavés at Real Madrid's home stadium, Santiago Bernabéu.
The game where I made my debut at the Santiago Bernabéu after transferring to Real Madrid.
"He is the prophet from the East. He brings victory to Madrid."
"Our Saint who shares in Real's glory!"
"His name is Jesus!"
"The history he'll write for Real is already set! Legend!"
The Madridistas sang my chant before kickoff. I clapped and thanked them.
"Hala Madrid!"
High on the fans' gift, I suppressed my bratty Jesus side for once and channeled the real Jesus Joo, shining in the match.
The result.
Real Madrid 7 : 0 Deportivo Alavés
Goals: Jesus (10', 15', 30', 45', 60', 70')
Iker Bravo (18')
I notched a double hat-trick, utterly dismantling Deportivo Alavés. Factoring in my assist for Iker Bravo's goal, it was a true one-man show that annihilated an entire club, shocking soccer insiders worldwide.
"Oh my gosh! Jesus! The god of soccer has possessed his body! 14 goals in 6 games—rivaling the monster Haaland's 10 in 6 from the old Premier League!"
"His play is elegant yet lethal. Damn, I've never resented my poor language skills this much."
"Viewers watching this game, a new god has appeared in the pantheon! Astonishingly, he's an 18-year-old player from South Korea."
"And that god's name is Joo. Ye. Soo. Nickname: El Santo de Madrid (Madrid's Saint)."
[Flawless Striker Shevchenko.]
Perfect. Just perfect.
I opened the window of the mansion (which I hadn't received yet) gifted by Madrid president Nuñez. The chant echoed from downtown Madrid.
"He is the prophet from the East. He brings victory to Madrid."
"Our Saint who shares in Real's glory!"
"His name is Jesus!"
"The history he'll write for Real is already set! Legend!"
High on the high, I'd torn apart Deportivo Alavés, but even I had to say... Madridistas, isn't it time to come down from the buzz?
Four hours after the game, and they're still singing.
As I peered out the window with a slightly uncomfortable look, Doo-sik hyung approached without a sound and spoke.
"Jesus."
"Why the sudden call? What's with that cringey face?"
Seeing Doo-sik hyung grinning like a pervert,
I could instinctively tell some money-making offer had come in.
"Three stripes or crescent moon?"
"Hyung, that's so tacky and unfunny. Just ask if I prefer Adidas or Nike. Which has the better terms?"
"...Adidas. 10-year contract, 18 million pounds per year."
"... "
I was speechless at the absurd figure from Doo-sik hyung's mouth. Conditions I only got offers for after winning Ballon d'Or in my previous life... already?
"Th-that side made an offer like that?"
"Yeah. We can probably negotiate higher. And they want to use your celebration for a Jesus special edition product."
I nodded at Doo-sik hyung's words.
"Negotiate for better terms first. And the special edition is a must."
After finishing the talk with hyung, the chant sounded from outside again.
"He is the prophet from the East. He brings victory to Madrid."
"Our Saint who shares in Real's glory!"
"His name is Jesus!"
"The history he'll write for Real is already set! Legend!"
Strangely, the chant that had felt uncomfortable now sounded pleasant.
Jingle jangle.
Copa del Rey Round of 16 First Leg Result.
Real Madrid 2 : 1 Girona FC (Home)
To prepare for the upcoming Barcelona match, manager Valverde left key players in Madrid and stole a win at Girona FC's home, Estadi Municipal de Montilivi, with just the 1.5 squad.
And three days later. League Round 21—the world's most famous derby, El Clásico.
Real Madrid vs Barcelona at Barcelona's home stadium, Camp Nou.
Returning to Camp Nou felt like a triumphant homecoming, so I snapped a selfie with the camera. Gurre spat curses at the sight, but I ignored him.
Click-
"I'm back! Camp Nou!"
"Puta!! You disgusting traitor bastard!"
I blew a finger heart at the cursing Gurre and entered the stadium to hear the manager's instructions.
"Two goals and clock out?"
"Three."
"Three's too many. Let's say two."
"Three."
"Two. Or I'll force an early exit with a celebration if you don't approve."
"Three!!"
"Damn it! Fine, three!"
Only then did the manager leave with a satisfied expression.
Engraving the instructions in my heart, we headed out to warm up.
As the Real Madrid players in Los Blancos entered the pitch, a torrent of boos rained down.
"Boooooooo! Dirty minions of Franco (Spanish dictator)!"
And among them, the player getting the most "love" from the culés was...
"You disgusting traitor bastard! Eat this!"
"Boooooooooooooooo! Jesus, go to hell!"
Me.
What the fuck. They leave Luis García alone and come after me?