Chapter 38: "The Rise of the Young Prince"

"That's not a card? Are your eyes broken? Should I punch them open for you! Huh!"

Sebastian Ranchella, usually a calm coach, turned into a fighter whenever his players were treated unfairly.

"Ah, no, let's talk about this…."

"If your eyes aren't fish eyes, you should be able to see this! Even you must know the referee's decisions are strange right now!"

Anyone watching the match couldn't help but think the referee's calls were bizarre.

While Racing Club players weren't getting any cards no matter what they did, Boca Juniors had already collected three yellow cards.

[It seems like Coach Sebastian's bottled-up frustrations have burst all at once. It's the first time he's shown this kind of anger since Javier Casero was heavily pressured last year.]

[Considering the unusually harsh calls against Boca Juniors today, it's understandable why he's so upset.]

Amid the chaos, Yoo Jiwoo kept clutching his knee, continuing his pained performance.

Method acting.

In this situation, his aim was for the referee to pull out a card from his chest.

"Hey! Get up! You didn't even collide like that!"

Bruno Ferreira, who had bumped into Yoo Jiwoo, knew that Jiwoo wasn't injured.

The contact had been almost nonexistent.

But.

"You little punk!"

From others' perspective, it looked like a strong collision had caused Jiwoo to fall, so the criticisms were unavoidable.

"That guy! He's acting!"

"How can he be acting when he looks that hurt?"

"Ah, this is driving me crazy! Hey, get up! I said, get up!"

Players from both clubs intervened to calm the agitated players, preventing any further conflict.

The referee then checked Yoo Jiwoo's condition and pulled out a card from his chest.

Thunk.

[The referee gives Bruno Ferreira a yellow card!]

[We thought the referee didn't have any cards, but here they are!]

Seeing the card he aimed for, Yoo Jiwoo groaned as he got up.

"Ah… ah…."

He didn't forget to maintain his act.

Still trembling, Yoo Jiwoo gave a quick "nyeh!" to Bruno Ferreira when no one was looking and dusted off the grass from his shorts.

As the free kick was being set up and Jiwoo started heading to his position—

"Are you taking the shot?"

Javier Casero stopped him.

"Is that okay?"

"You earned it. I saw during training that your kicks aren't bad."

Normally, players rarely gave up free kicks in such great positions.

"Think of it as a late debut gift."

"…I've already played six matches, though?"

"Better late than never, so take it as a gift."

"Then I'll gratefully accept it."

Jiwoo placed the ball down and prepared alongside Javier Casero.

"How are you kicking it?"

"I'll curve it to the right side of the defensive wall."

"I'll fake it for you."

"Got it."

Javier Casero was left-footed, and the free-kick position was ideal for a left-footed shot, so Racing Club set up their defense accordingly.

"A little more to the left!"

Boca Juniors' designated kicker, Javier Casero.

Nicknamed the dead-ball specialist, his free-kick success rate was so high that his mere presence was a threat.

[Both Javier Casero and Yoo are standing over the ball.]

[It looks like Yoo will feint, and Javier will take the shot since it's his favored position.]

The position was right on the edge of the penalty line, a spot kickers loved the most.

Beep!

When the whistle blew, Javier Casero and Yoo Jiwoo exchanged a glance and moved simultaneously.

Whoosh.

Javier faked a kick to trick the defensive wall, then passed by as Yoo Jiwoo stepped up.

Seeing this, Mauro Caceres jumped and realized too late—

'…I've been tricked!'

Thud!

Yoo Jiwoo's shot seemed to veer far right, as though it would miss the goal entirely.

However—

Whirr.

The ball spun sharply, cutting through the headwind and bending its trajectory dramatically.

Like a UFO.

[Ohhhhhhhhh!]

Clang.

The ball narrowly grazed the right goalpost and nestled perfectly into the corner of the net.

The goalkeeper could only stare, unable to react.

"…How are you supposed to stop that?"

Even if he had known in advance, it would've been impossible to block.

[It's in! Gooooooal! Yoo's right foot tears through Racing Club's net!]

[How does a shot curve like that from a free kick? Just how strong is his ankle strength?]

The goalkeeper let out a frustrated sigh and angrily kicked the ball back into play.

–Waaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!

The La Bombonera stadium erupted with cheers.

As Yoo Jiwoo celebrated, Ricardo Mesa approached and ruffled his hair.

"You're getting better at acting."

"…You're the one who taught me, Ricardo."

"I told you to fool the enemy, not your teammates too."

"I didn't expect everyone to fall for it."

"Maybe you should be acting instead of playing soccer?"

---

The second half began with Boca Juniors leading 1–0.

Trailing, Racing Club relentlessly pushed for counterattacks down the flanks.

But their efforts weren't easily rewarded.

Whoosh—

Defensive midfielder Marcos Mus was ranked among the league's best in protecting the back four.

His broad field vision.

Pinpoint passing ability.

Physicality that didn't waver even in tough duels.

No matter the situation, his unyielding spirit stood out.

As a defensive midfielder, there was no one in the league who could match Marcos Mous. He was one of Sebastián Lancellara's most cherished players.

[Marcos Mous's work rate is incredible! It's clear that his stamina has improved significantly compared to last season!]

Ángel Molía – Javier Casero.

While their flashy offensive prowess could compete on the global stage, Boca Juniors' defensive strength was also among the best in the league.

Thud!

Boca's defensive leader, Ernesto Guerra, despite his small stature, used his blistering speed and incredible coverage to stop Racing Club striker José Fernandez.

[José Fernandez loses the ball again!] [At the center of Boca's defense is this player! Ernesto Guerra! His relentless defending has earned him the title of the most dreaded opponent in the league!]

"Nice defense!"

Ángel Molía raised a thumb in praise, and Ernesto Guerra responded with a smile and a raised hand.

'Amazing.'

Yoo Ji-woo couldn't help but be impressed.

His defensive performances had been stellar in many matches, but today, he was exceptional.

Particularly against Racing Club's forwards, who specialized in breaking through with speed, the defense left no gaps, naturally earning admiration.

"Leave this to us and focus on scoring more goals."

A reliable rear guard willing to get dirty for the team.

And an offensive line so brilliant it could dominate even on the global stage.

From a neutral perspective, Boca Juniors' balance of attack and defense was nothing short of perfect.

Thud!

And at the pinnacle of that perfect balance—

[Yoo! He traps the ball beautifully, then performs a La Croqueta! Bruno Pereira can't stop him!]

Boca's young prince soared brilliantly.

Once he picked up speed, no one could stop him.

Even fouling him wasn't an option if you couldn't grab him.

Tap.

One player.

Tap.

Two players.

As Yoo Ji-woo entered the penalty box, he faked a pass to Ricardo Mesa before shooting to the right.

Swoosh.

[Goal! Gooooaaal! Yoo scores his second goal just seven minutes after the free-kick!] [It's flashy and beautiful! The small boy from Asia is tearing apart the Argentine league!]

Seeing the young player roaring on the advertisement board, Racing Club's rising ace, Mauro Cáceres, could only chuckle in disbelief.

'What is that guy? I can't believe Bruno couldn't win a single footrace.'

Bruno Pereira, despite his rough mouth, was a very skilled player.

He was among the top three fastest on Racing Club's roster.

Yet, seeing such a player repeatedly bested was shocking.

But the shock wasn't over.

'Damn!'

Bruno Pereira, who relentlessly chased Yoo Ji-woo, was starting to feel strain in his legs.

[Yoo shakes off Bruno and moves into open space as Ángel Molía delivers a quick cross!]

Unable to keep up anymore, Bruno could no longer interfere as Yoo moved into position to receive the ball.

'I can't let this go.'

He had to stop him, even if it meant pushing himself too far.

One step.

Two steps.

The distance between the two narrowed.

[Oh! Mauro Cáceres tries to block the pass with a tackle, but it deflects into the air!]

The ball, now airborne, increased the chances of winning it back through physical contact.

Bruno Pereira pushed himself toward Yoo Ji-woo, straining his legs as he approached.

'At this distance…!'

The ball was still in the air.

A jolt of pain shot through his thigh, but he clenched his teeth and kept going—until Yoo Ji-woo's play caught him completely off guard.

'What?'

The ball brushed past his left cheek.

'He used his shoulder?'

Instead of waiting for the ball to drop, Yoo Ji-woo controlled it midair with his shoulder and moved forward.

– Oooohhh!

[An incredible shoulder trap! Bruno Pereira loses sight of Yoo once again!]

Anticipating a breakthrough, Mauro Cáceres quickly backed up to provide support.

Tap. Tap.

As the defense closed in, Yoo Ji-woo broke through with a one-two pass with Javier Casero.

[Yoo breaks through with a one-two play with Javier! He's fast! He's charging toward the goal! Yoooooo!]

Seeing the goalkeeper advance, Yoo calmly chipped the ball upward.

The ball arched perfectly over the goalkeeper's head and into the net.

Swoosh!

After scoring, Yoo Ji-woo stood still, breathing heavily, before being swarmed by his teammates.

"Woooooaaah!"

"You crazy guy! I knew you'd do it!"

"That's a hat trick! A hat trick!"

[Hat trickkkkk! Yoo records his first career hat trick since his debut! Who on earth is this player?] [Wait! Is this the youngest-ever hat trick?]

The youngest hat trick in Argentina's league history.

At just sixteen years old, Yoo Ji-woo had etched his name into history.

"...."

Those watching could only think one thing:

– A genius sent from the heavens –

No other words could describe the situation.

– Yoo! Yoo! Yoo! Yoo! Yoo!

The Boca Juniors fans celebrated the rise of their next-generation ace.

---

"What do you think?"

Amid the cheering Boca Juniors supporters, familiar faces were present.

Park Woo-geun and the South Korean national team head coach, João Dallut, were there.

Hired by the Korean Football Association two years ago to prepare for the 2030 World Cup, the Portuguese-born coach had a stellar resume, including managing the Dutch and Australian national teams.

He stared intently at Yoo Ji-woo.

"This is exactly the kind of player the South Korean national team needs right now."

"He's the player who will illuminate South Korea's future."

"But isn't it impossible to call him up at the moment? Isn't it because of the vice-chairman or something that they're refusing his selection?"

Even as a foreign coach, João Dallut was well aware of the inner workings of the association.

"Yes, that issue needs to be resolved first."

"Do you have a plan?"

"It's nearly finished. Once everything is sorted out, we'll contact Yoo Ji-woo."

Seeing him in person, rather than in videos, made his talent shine even brighter.

And now he was certain.

Yoo Ji-woo was the talent who would make the national team stronger than ever before.

"I hope your plans work out smoothly."

"Don't worry. We'll set everything right this time."

Park Woo-geun quietly smiled.

Korean football was just beginning.