Unstoppable on the Flank
“You can’t stop Ha Sunmoon!”
“It’s pitiful! Zaldúa has been Sociedad’s starting right-back since the 17/18 season, yet he’s being torn apart by Ha Sunmoon again and again!”
The Korean commentators spent the entire first half shouting in excitement, their voices on the verge of breaking. The whistle blew sharply.
“That’s halftime. Espanyol leads 0-2 thanks to Ha Sunmoon’s outstanding performance.”
“Didn’t I tell you? I said he’d be brilliant today.”
“Even so, I never imagined Real Sociedad would collapse this helplessly.”
“It’s clear the problem lies on Espanyol’s left flank—Sociedad’s right—where their players simply can’t cope with the attacks. Ha Sunmoon’s stats are coming up now…”
The commentators gasped once more.
“Whoa—Ha Sunmoon just hit 34 km/h on that sprint!”
“That’s elite winger territory in the top four leagues. No wonder they can’t stop him. Even solid full-backs can’t keep up. That’s why, on the first goal, the centre-back came across to cover but didn’t even try to block his path—Sunmoon was simply too fast.”
“Who in the world can match Ha Sunmoon’s speed right now?”
“If we’re talking right-backs, only Manchester City’s Kyle Walker comes to mind. Walker clocked 35 km/h back at Tottenham, and he hasn’t lost that pace at City. No other full-back can catch him.”
“Incredible. Absolutely sensational display.”
“Exactly. And those sharp, early crosses—delivered with such quality. There’s simply no answer for the opposition. Though, ironically, his crossing is almost too good. Both strikers keep making runs, but half the time they can’t reach the ball, and the other half they’re just off target. If those two were a touch more clinical, Sunmoon would already have more assists. It’s a shame.”
[Nice one! How about that? All that hard work wasn’t for nothing, was it?]
Ha Sunmoon nodded at Harrison’s voice. The result was overwhelming. It wasn’t exactly the direction he had been pursuing, but the effect was similar—dominating the opponent. He had done it through explosive pace rather than technical skill, which left him slightly dissatisfied, yet in the end, what mattered was that it worked on the pitch.
“Brilliant! Well done!”
“Vamos~!”
Ha Sunmoon and his Espanyol teammates shouted toward the travelling supporters before heading into the away dressing room. Inside the cramped space, several players gathered around him.
“Ha! Your passes are way too strong! They’re impossible to control.”
Puado, one of the two strikers, wore a genuinely pained expression.
“Nah, keep doing exactly that. The guy scores one and still complains. Heh.”
Tomas chuckled beside Sunmoon.
“Those high-difficulty crosses are exactly why the opposition is struggling. Didn’t you see their keeper and centre-backs suffering?”
“Still… we can’t even control them ourselves…”
“We’re 2-0 up from two lucky breaks. We’re the ones who can’t control them—our level is just a tiny bit short.”
At Tomas’s words, Puado finally nodded.
“Ha! That was outstanding just now!”
Manager Abelardo burst into the dressing room, staring at Sunmoon with visible excitement.
Whoa, that startled me…
[He barely acknowledged you before, but the moment you perform he’s all over you again.]
Harrison found it absurd how quickly Abelardo’s attitude had flipped—he had ignored Sunmoon for an entire week whenever things went poorly—yet he was still Espanyol’s manager, so Sunmoon let it slide.
“Excellent first half. Keep it up in the second.”
[For goodness’ sake, is that really a manager? A proper one would be explaining how the opponent might change tactics and how we should respond. Tsk tsk… This guy has clear limitations. If he’s not gone next season, we’re out of here, Sunmoon.]
Harrison grumbled. Sunmoon gave a small nod.
“Got it.”
Abelardo smiled, satisfied that Sunmoon had agreed.
[I told you. They’ll adjust.]
— Ha! He’s forced to stop his runs. Real Sociedad have changed their shape slightly, so Sunmoon can’t charge forward recklessly.
Trailing on the scoreboard, Sociedad’s manager prioritised defence first, hoping to build a platform for a comeback.
— To mark Ha, they seem to be deploying the right-winger and right-back more defensively.
[Not a bad idea. At least they’ve divided the zones instead of just getting skinned repeatedly.]
Without detailed instructions, players could only react within their own limits when suddenly confronted with a new situation. In the short time available, the Sociedad manager had analysed the problem and given his right-winger and right-back clear defensive roles. However…
[They’re still not coming? This is the perfect spot. Cross from here!]
Thump!
Any hastily assembled tactic always left gaps. Zonal defending meant players couldn’t react proactively, and no one was positioned to stop Ha Sunmoon’s cross from the space between the right-winger and right-back.
— Ah~! Ha’s cross is superb. Even from that position it finds its way into the penalty area. Was it really the right choice to leave him unmarked?
“Damn it!”
Sociedad’s right-back Zaldúa spat out a curse, unsure what to do. Whenever Sunmoon delivered a cross it caused damage, yet now the full-back was stationed too far away to intervene while Sunmoon kept launching balls from just outside his reach. He felt like a fool.
— Tomas! Header! Ah~! It clips the top of the crossbar!
Espanyol’s attack missed this time, but once again Sunmoon collected the ball and began advancing with quick, light touches. A few more steps and he would be in crossing range again.
I can’t let this happen again.
Zaldúa glanced at his manager, who reluctantly signalled for him to push forward and engage.
Perfect. This time for sure!
As Zaldúa stepped up, Harrison’s eyes gleamed.
[Got him! That idiot’s moving. That was the best he could do, yet he lacks patience!]
Sunmoon had to suppress a laugh at Harrison’s words.
[Just a little further. Nudge it past him and go again. He knows he’s slower, yet he still comes out to challenge! Time for another lesson.]
Harrison shouted excitedly, thrilled that his tactics had worked.
Tap!
— Ha! He slips the ball past Zaldúa again! Sunmoon sprints, and Zaldúa tries to stop him!
Zaldúa lunged after the accelerating full-back.
I won’t miss this time!
But Sunmoon’s explosive burst, combined with momentum, quickly opened a gap that Zaldúa could not close.
No!
Desperate, Zaldúa reached out and grabbed Sunmoon’s shirt.
[Ignore it and keep running!]
Sunmoon’s body was too strong; Zaldúa was dragged forward and comically fell to the ground.
— Zaldúa! He tried to stop him with a foul, but he can’t halt Ha!
[Yes! That’s it! Bloody tough!]
Speed, elasticity, and raw power combined—Zaldúa had no chance. All he could do was watch helplessly from the turf as Sunmoon sprinted away.
That… that monster…
[Now the pass!]
With their right flank completely exposed, Sociedad scrambled to reorganise their defence, but Sunmoon had already burst through so quickly that he was well ahead of their back line. And then…
Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!
Both strikers, Tomas and Puado, made their runs once more, sensing blood.
Thump!
Sunmoon whipped in a low, driven cross into the gap between keeper and defenders. Tomas, arriving ahead of the centre-backs, met it cleanly.
Smack!
Swish~!
— Goooooooal! Espanyol score again! They lead by three and have completely overwhelmed Real Sociedad! Sociedad look utterly powerless!
The net rippled once more. Sunmoon and Tomas sprinted toward the travelling Espanyol fans.
“Vamos~!”
“Vamo~~~s!”
The two players roared at the supporters, who roared back in reply. Tomas pointed repeatedly at Sunmoon, signalling that he had done everything, while Sunmoon gave him a thumbs-up and a grin before jogging back onto the pitch.
— They may be a second-division side, but Espanyol are formidable. At this rate, it looks like they’ll meet Barcelona in the final!