Chapter 2

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Translator: Silver Dragon

Chapter: 2

Chapter Title: Regression and the Brazil Match

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Fuck.

I really want to kill all those defenders.

- Yeah. Brazil's attack line was just too strong.

Ha.

Age 234. Failed the mission again.

The system window message appeared.

My vision darkened.

Sounds around me faded away.

Only after a long while did my eyes finally open in the team hotel where the South Korea National Team for the North/Central America World Cup was staying.

"Ha. Fuck."

Along with the system window, I'd regressed to the day before the South Korea vs. Brazil group stage match.

"... ? Hey, why the sudden cursing out of nowhere?"

I gave a vague response to Kim Min-jun, my senior defender roommate.

"I'm nervous about tomorrow's match."

At this point, I don't even know anymore.

World Cup? Screw it.

I'm just gonna enjoy life.

234 years with this soccer game system.

From now on, I'll live however I damn well please.

That evening, despite it being the day before the match, I stayed up all night surfing the internet.

The next day.

The coach flipped out when he saw my face.

"Hey! What the hell happened to you?!"

Fortunately, Min-jun from the same room covered for me.

"Jesus said he was nervous yesterday. Probably tossed and turned all night."

The displeased coach glared at me.

"If you can't play, say so now. Don't drag the team down."

Me?

I glanced at the guys snickering and trash-talking behind the coach.

"That orphan kid's always been a mess. We're already out of the Round of 16, and he's still shaking for this dead rubber."

"Hey, keep it down. Coach might hear."

I could run circles around those fuckers even drunk.

I shook my head at the coach's words and replied.

"I can play!"

'What the hell is that guy doing?!'

South Korea National Team Manager Huh Sung-tae stared at number 14, Jesus Joo, who was left alone in the center circle during the opponent's counterattack, scratching his balls and spectating.

'That bastard's been off since morning. Should've benched him... No. If I didn't play him at all, the netizens would've rioted again.'

"Hey! Jesus Joo! What are you—"

As the coach tried to warn him,

South Korea defender Kim Min-jun cleared the ball, and it dropped right in front of Jesus Joo.

Jesus Joo took clean possession with a stable trap.

He immediately started carrying the ball toward the opponent's half.

In an instant, South Korea's counterattack unfolded, and the monster center-back Martínez grabbed and tugged at Jesus Joo's jersey.

'At least that's a yellow card.'

The coach was about to be satisfied with an early yellow for the opponent, despite the counter chance fizzling,

when he doubted his own eyes at Jesus Joo's antics.

Jesus Joo poked the opponent's eye while evading the ref's gaze.

"...Am I seeing things?"

"Agh!"

The defender's scream rang out.

The ref looked flustered by the sudden collapse but let the game continue.

Having neutralized the defender in a flash,

Jesus Joo brushed past the rushing keeper to narrow the angle,

then hit a Marseille turn into the empty net.

The moment the goal went in,

Jesus Joo came sprinting toward him.

'You little punk. Everyone gave me so much shit for picking you. You're paying me back like this, huh?'

Expecting a hug, Huh Sung-tae prepared,

but—

*Grab—*

His face twisted uncontrollably at Jesus Joo's celebration of grabbing his head and shaking it back and forth.

And the community users watching that scene burst into hysterical laughter.

Heading back after pulling off the Cassano celebration recommended by the community.

Fatigue hit me after just a short sprint.

'Ah. I'm so fucking sleepy I could die.'

"FUCK! Watch it properly, you bastard!"

Martínez, protesting that I'd poked his eye, lost his temper and cursed at the ref.

The ref promptly gifted him a yellow.

"What? You're warned!"

Brazil players restrained the heated Martínez.

I inwardly mocked him while chuckling.

'Yeah~ Idiot, I poked it discreetly. Ref has no clue~ Keep protesting~'

The chaotic pitch settled.

Brazil kicked off from the center circle, restarting the game.

In a daze, watching Brazil's attack,

I spotted Min-jun senior flying into their forward again.

The landing spot of his casual clearance forward was crystal clear in my eyes.

'The most useful part of this game system, for real.'

I sprinted full tilt toward the glowing landing spot.

- Jesus Joo is off!

- Does that guy not even look at the ball before running?

- Huh? The ball's heading straight for Jesus Joo!

The ball dropped precisely toward me.

'A bit far, but I can make it.'

I checked the keeper's position, slightly off his line,

then volleyed it directly.

The ball grazed the keeper's fingertips and rippled the net.

The stunned Brazilian players.

Against that backdrop, I dashed to the corner flag

and busted out Brazil's signature samba dance.

"Samba~!"

The fully erect announcers' voices rang in my ears.

'The most useless ability. This commentary.'

I saw the Brazilian players staring at my celebration with stiff expressions.

'What, jealous? Go score and celebrate yourselves.'

Though the commentary is occasionally useful.

Like right now.

- Uh-oh! Jesus Joo's in danger!

The second I heard the announcer, I leaped into the air.

Martínez slid right under my feet.

Pretending it was an accident, I put my weight on that bastard's shoulder.

"Gaaahhh!"

"Aaaah!"

The pained screams halted the game,

and the ref gave Martínez an additional yellow as he was stretchered off, sending him off.

"You okay, Jesus?"

I nodded to the doc

and slowly got up, loosening up.

- Phew! Jesus Joo seems fine, no major injury!

- Yeah, looks like he dodged well just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before impact.

- Hope Martínez isn't seriously hurt.

- Yes, it was a dangerous tackle that could cause injury—self-inflicted—but hopefully nothing major.

I shook my head listening to the commentary.

"What bullshit."

*Stroll stroll—!*

With the ref's permission,

I jogged back onto the pitch.

In that short time, we'd conceded one, making it 2:1.

I was quietly impressed.

'Without Min-jun senior, it'd be 3:2 by now.'

The first half ended like that.

Halftime locker room.

Huh Sung-tae excitedly patted my shoulder.

"Hahaha! Jesus! Great job! Keep it up in the second half!"

I nodded lightly at his words.

"Man. If it weren't for those damn Korean netizens, we'd have used Jesus ages ago and made the Round of 16."

Nope, not that.

Your tactics are trash.

I closed my eyes and rested without responding.

"Guys! Just like the first half! Just like the first half!"

Huh Sung-tae, offering no tactical instructions, just empty hype.

Watching him stay on with the federation post-World Cup, leading the cronyism soccer charge,

I sighed quietly.

'Fuck it, maybe I should just announce my international retirement.'

At that moment, as Jesus Joo sighed,

the AC Milan and Italian legendary striker-turned-coach watching the South Korea vs. Brazil match shouted hallelujah.

"Oh! It's like my prime self."

He praised Jesus Joo's positioning, reminiscent of his own acclaimed off-ball movement.

"His technical skills are better than mine. Hmm, wonder if we can sign that player?"