The Red Empire
The Red Empire
1-1.
Bicycle kick.
Lying on my back on the ground, I held back the nausea that came before the pain and looked at the scoreboard.
I made eye contact with Sanchez, who was standing on the bench with a stiff expression.
Enjoying his thoroughly distorted face.
And listening to the cheers from the away section.
I pressed my face into the grass and started retching.
"Ugh! Ugh!"
Honestly, isn't today's goal indisputable?
In any other situation, this would have been a match where I got trapped in Sanchez's swamp and completely erased.
Just by the fact that I was getting eaten alive by Jimenez all first half and having touch misses, I thought, 'Another day of being in Stats-padder mode against a strong team.'
But to bury that in the 85th minute?
Han-su is definitely different this season.
It's not just luck; even in that suffocating situation, he managed to create his own trajectory.
ㄴ For real, the old Han-su would have already lost his mentality around the 80th minute and signaled for a substitution LOL
ㄴ Villarreal Mod: Sanchez boasted about 'blocking variables,' but he broke it with a bicycle kick. Just worship him.
ㄴ I thought the game was over when Garcia scored that wonder goal... but he actually made it a game.
ㄴ Did you see Sanchez's face stiffen after he boasted about erasing him? He won't be able to sleep tonight LOL
Today's 'that celebration' is out again ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
Just now, after he buried the bicycle kick, the camera showed him,
Han-su is burying his head in the grass and dry-heaving again ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
At this point, isn't this just a goal verification?
I'd be disappointed if he didn't throw up after scoring.
ㄴ ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ Look at him giving a shout-out to vomiting every time he scores. I acknowledge him as a genuine New-gen Guto at this point.
ㄴ Villarreal Mod: Hey, but wasn't today's goal a trajectory you'd only see in 'that person's' prime? It was worth throwing up over, for real.
ㄴ Cost-effective vomiting ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ
ㄴ How disgusting must the Atletico defense have been for him to spew right after scoring ㅋㅋㅋㅋ
After the match ended in a 1-1 draw, Sanchez sat in front of the microphone with a slightly more sunken expression than usual.
"The result is disappointing, but our players executed the prepared tactics perfectly for the full 90 minutes. We isolated Kim Han-su throughout the match, and in fact, he didn't take a single step outside the space we allowed."
He paused for a moment and adjusted his tie.
"But that final scene... it was in a realm that cannot be explained by data. Even if it was a numerical disadvantage, there aren't many players who could make that choice at that angle and timing. The 'variable blocking' I guaranteed was effective for 85 minutes, but I couldn't stop that 0.1 seconds of intuition."
When a reporter asked if his evaluation of Kim Han-su had changed, he answered calmly.
[Marcia] The Designer Who Mocks Data, Villarreal's 'Number 9' Kim Han-su Crosses Sanchez's Swamp
[AZ] The 0.1-Second Rebellion, Asian Striker Kim Han-su, Tears Apart Atletico's 'Control'
[Mundo Sports] The 'Yellow Submarine's' New Engine: 6 Consecutive Goals, Already Surpassing Last Season's Record
I scanned the interviews and articles.
13 league goals. 4 Europa goals.
Knocked out of Copa del Rey early, but 1 goal.
Already 18 goals for the season.
I had already long surpassed last season's 13-goal record.
Honestly, it feels good.
I chewed on Sanchez's interview quote.
To think that crazy guy would say something like that.
I felt a strange sense of conquest.
"Click."
The frozen 0.1 seconds.
The sensation of tearing through that gap and burying the bicycle kick was vivid.
"Click, click. Click."
"What are you doing?"
A cold voice cut through my ears.
Elena was sitting across from me with her arms crossed.
It was a pitiful look, like she was watching a beast.
"Image training."
"What the hell is this 'Click' thing you keep doing? Do you have some kind of disability?"
Elena snatched the tablet and scanned the article title, [The Designer Who Mocks Data], on the screen.
Her eyebrows twitched.
"Just because the media is hyping you up, you think you've become a magician or something? Wasn't it just a fluke? I heard you threw up on the grass again after scoring."
"That's a physiological phenomenon. And it's not magic, it's skill."
Elena let out a deep sigh.
"More importantly, what's up? You were the one who asked to go out."
We are currently at a quiet restaurant near Castellón beach.
When I asked, Elena toyed with her wine glass and looked out the window.
"Some celebratory news."
"Celebration? The goal I scored yesterday?"
"That just satisfied your ego. This is business."
Elena lowered her voice. She was checking her surroundings, which was different from usual.
"I talked to your agent, Jorge, today. As you know, our families know each other. We also share connections in the same media company."
"What did Jorge say?"
"After the Atletico match, the scout reports were updated all at once. Jorge tipped me off quietly. It seems the source is already circulating within the media."
"Which teams?"
"Three from the Premier League, two from the Bundesliga. The PL side is especially specific. They said the Arsenal and Chelsea scouts gave your movement inside the box an almost insane score."
I stopped my fork. The PL. It's the stage every football player dreams of.
"The Bundesliga one is Dortmund. They prefer players who play as intelligently as you."
Elena stared straight at me.
"It's not just a level of interest. Agents are already attached, asking for transfer fee guidelines."
I tried to act indifferent and cut my steak.
But my heart started beating a little faster.
Transfer? Honestly, I had never thought about it.
Last season.
I thought my limit was here, and I focused only on surviving.
A transfer to a bigger team.
It sounded quite unrealistic.
"Don't get too excited. The interest is explosive, yes, but nothing has been signed concretely yet. You're just at the top of the list, that's all."
Elena added coldly.
"Ah... I see. Well. How could someone like me, a former 'Stats-padder,' go there? I should just bury my bones in Villarreal."
"Hey, Kim Han-su. Why are you saying it like that?"
Elena's tone shot up, as if she were flustered.
"Didn't you see your goal yesterday? There aren't many people in the world who can bury a bicycle kick in that situation. Do you think the scouts are stupid? Do you know how amazing it is to be at the top of the list!"
"Is that so? As expected, I must be a genius striker."
"Seriously... what rhythm am I supposed to match you to?"
Elena shook her head as if she was dumbfounded.
The next match is the Europa League quarter-finals.
The opponent is Liverpool.
After the legendary German manager Jurgen Hofmann left, Anfield entered a dark age.
The Dutch manager who came as his successor is ruining the team with incomprehensible tactical stubbornness and discord with the players.
Liverpool, who used to compete for the top of the Premier League, has now fallen to 6th place in the league, and now all they have left is the Europa League trophy.
Even so, the club declared 'infinite support,' which has been making fans hold their necks in frustration for several seasons.
Well. Still, Liverpool was Liverpool. Even if half of their power was gone, the red wave of Anfield always makes people feel intimidated.
Arne Doctor's tactics were clear.
An extremely high line, and controlled chaos in tight spaces.
He pulls even the defenders up near the half-line to suffocate the opponent.
A gamble that leaves the space behind the defense wide open.
That was the substance of what Arne Doctor calls so-called 'modern pressing'.
On the other hand, our manager Marcelino aimed for that gap.
"Han-su, your role is simple. The moment they cross the half-line, you must already be behind their backs."
Manager Marcelino abandoned his usual boring possession football.
He ordered a 'linear design' to rip through the space behind them with a single long pass, using Liverpool's forward pressure against them.
The tighter they squeeze, the wider and longer we kick.
As soon as I exited the Anfield tunnel, the air changed.
The massive chorus of 'You'll Never Walk Alone' was covering the stadium.
As soon as the clock on the scoreboard started running, Liverpool's red uniforms rushed in like crazy.
"Kim!"
I heard Yilmaz's shout, but Liverpool's center-back Ibrahima Mutombo was already standing firm in front of me.
Arne Doctor's tactics were much more extreme than expected.
Liverpool's defensive line had risen almost to the half-line, and I couldn't even find a moment to breathe in that narrow gap.
15th minute of the first half.
I had only recorded three touches.
Whenever I tried to catch the ball, two midfielders were already blocking my path, and whenever I tried to turn back, rough shoulder-to-shoulder contact came in.
It was definitely different from Sanchez's Atletico.
If Sanchez was the type to trap you precisely, Arne Doctor's Liverpool was just the type to push you.
But this kind of forward pressure has a big risk.
Cracks inevitably appear.
Systems are most spectacular right before they overload.
The stronger Liverpool's forward pressure became, the wider the space left behind their backs grew.
The timing for the 'linear design' that Manager Marcelino talked about was approaching.
38th minute of the first half. Finally, the opportunity came.
Deep in our territory, midfielder Parejo cleverly evaded Liverpool's pressure and intercepted the ball.
The moment Liverpool's players flocked toward Parejo to steal the ball back.
I started running.
I didn't look at the ball.
I stared only at that space behind that Arne Doctor had left open.
"Parejo!"
At the same time as my shout, the ball cut through the air.
Liverpool's defensive line looked back in a panic, but my speed had already reached its peak.
Empty space.
Between goalkeeper Alisson Keir and me, there was only the flow of air.
As I sprinted, I laid out the blueprint in my head.
"Click."
Time stopped.
The position of Keir rushing out, the friction of the grass, and even the rough breathing of Mutombo following from behind.
Everything gathered into a single point.