Douglas Costa.
Born in 1990, he was a Brazilian prodigy who began his football journey at São Paulo FC Academy.
Not long ago, in a friendly match against CR Flamengo U13, he had scored five goals in just 15 minutes. Among players in his age group, it was rare to find anyone faster than him.
When Carlos, the head coach of São Paulo U13, told Costa to score 10 goals, he wasn't joking.
Costa was the ace of the U13 squad. Scoring ten was well within his capabilities.
Besides, the opponent was FC Shoot Dori, a team that had only recently been formed.
It wasn't disrespect. It was just the obvious conclusion.
'From the match footage, it's clear. Except for that kid named Ho-young, none of them have received any proper football training.'
Even if it was just a friendly, Carlos had already thoroughly analyzed FC Shoot Dori's footage.
Losing to a team like that would have been a huge embarrassment.
'Honestly, we won't even need tactics.'
FC Shoot Dori's players were aged between 7 and 9.
Meanwhile, São Paulo U13's average age was 12.
The gap in physical development and experience was undeniable.
"Hey!"
Carlos called over two players.
The attacking spearhead, Douglas Costa, and the defensive anchor, Casemiro.
He gave them each specific instructions.
"Dougie, don't overdo it. Just treat this like a warm-up. The important matches begin in a week. Still, ten goals wouldn't hurt, right? You've got to live up to your name as a top prospect."
"Piece of cake."
Douglas grinned mischievously.
"And Casemiro."
"Yes, sir."
"You see that kid wearing number 7? You're marking him man-to-man today."
"You mean Ho-young?"
"Yeah. You might learn something from it."
"Learn? You think I'll lose to that little kid?"
Casemiro.
He was another rising talent, no less impressive than Douglas.
Being compared to a younger kid like Ho-young bruised his pride.
"Don't get ahead of yourself. You'll see once you're out there. If you don't concede a goal, I'll take you to Korea's Disneyland right after the match."
"Wow!"
After giving individual instructions, Carlos gathered the starting lineup.
"It's an 8v8 match. We've done plenty of those. But this pitch is smaller than what we're used to. So we'll create chances using our midfield-based Wengerball. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!"
"And goalkeeper, watch out for shots from the halfway line."
"Yes!"
This might have been a difficult order for typical elementary school players, but the São Paulo U13 kids nodded in full understanding.
'Yes! Disneyland, here I come!'
Casemiro, tasked with marking Ho-young, beamed as he glanced toward the other side.
Shoot Dori's kids, meanwhile, were relaxed and carefree, seemingly unfazed by the upcoming match.
"An alien came down from a spaceship and saaaid!"
"Divi divi deep!"
"Giggle giggle! Sung-joon's caught!"
While the other kids laughed and played, one stood out with a different aura.
Ho-young.
'He's at least 15 cm shorter than me.'
Whether he blocked Ho-young from scoring or Douglas bagged ten goals, either would earn him that amusement park trip.
'Too easy!'
"Dougie! Let's crush them!"
"Of course."
The in-sync duo of Casemiro and Douglas, already excited for their reward, entered the pitch.
Tweet!
The match kicked off with São Paulo FC in possession.
[On the left we have São Paulo, and on the right, FC Shoot Dori. The historic match begins!]
[Ah, you can already see the difference. Instead of charging recklessly, they're making organized passes right from the start. That's the pedigree of a world-class club.]
This was nothing like their past matches against Cha Boom FC, Hallelujah CF, or Seongnam City FC.
Since it was an 8v8 match, the pitch was wider than usual. São Paulo calmly controlled the ball in midfield, playing a possession-based game.
They weren't just chasing the ball blindly.
Beyond physical differences, there was a clear gap in football IQ.
It looked more like a middle school team playing against elementary kids.
[Western kids tend to have better physical attributes than Koreans, right? Adults and children alike. This match may be tough, but it could be a great learning experience for our players.]
[Right. Brazilian players might not be as tall as Europeans, but they're flexible and agile. That's what Samba football is all about. On the other hand, just look at FC Shoot Dori. Maybe it's because it's winter, but they're skating on thin ice.]
[What do you mean?]
[I mean their squad depth is paper thin. Apart from Ho-young, that is.]
[Hahaha. Well, home advantage counts for something, right? Oh, and right then! Number 9, Douglas Costa, is making a break!]
Douglas received a forward pass through midfield and took a long first touch.
Then, using his signature speed, he blew past the Shoot Dori defensive line and surged toward goal.
'What is this? These kids are awful!'
Grinning at the poor level, Douglas lined up a finishing shot with his instep.
Whoosh.
"...?!"
Tweet!
The low shot toward the far post suddenly lifted and went over the goal line.
A foot had come in from the right and blocked the shot.
"Who was that?!"
Douglas turned and saw Ho-young smiling confidently.
"Tch. Count yourself lucky."
Competitive to the core, Douglas convinced himself it was just a fluke.
At least for now.
But by the fifth minute, Douglas, deployed as a lone striker, began feeling the pressure.
By his calculations, he should have already had two goals. Instead, he had just one shot on target, and even that had been blocked by Ho-young.
'That kid... he's actually pretty good.'
He had dismissed it as coincidence at first, but when it happened again and again, it was hard to call it luck.
'Damn it!'
He was frustrated.
Possession was 90-10, if not more.
São Paulo were completely dominating, but without goals, it was infuriating.
And then he snapped.
"Hey!"
"What?"
"I thought you were a striker. What are you doing back here?"
"What are you saying?"
Douglas was speaking Portuguese. Ho-young, Korean.
No chance of proper communication.
Ho-young mockingly picked his ear and responded,
"You. No goal. Today."
"What?!"
"Heh."
Breaking his English into simple words on purpose, Ho-young provoked him. Douglas took the bait.
This was the first time in his football life he'd been humiliated like this.
To be shut down by a forward, not even a defender?
Unthinkable.
'Alright. Time to get serious. Coach said don't overdo it, but...'
He was ready to go all out.
The team had full control of the match, so the goals would come eventually. He just had to be careful of counterattacks.
'And with Casemiro in defense, there's nothing to worry about.'
Now, it was on him.
'I'll score no matter what.'
Douglas tightened his boot laces with steely resolve.
It paid off in the 13th minute.
Thud.
As Shoot Dori pushed forward in numbers to attack, Casemiro intercepted the ball and immediately sent a low pass down the center.
Douglas extended his long legs and sprinted at full speed.
'Got it. I'm in the clear!'
The space behind the defense was wide open.
A perfect no-mark chance.
He could easily take on the keeper.
All he had to do was get to the ball.
'It's mine...!'
But then.
'...Huh?'
Tap.
Ho-young.
He had somehow appeared out of nowhere, intercepted the ball, and was now dribbling it out himself.
'Why is a striker always the one back here?!'
Douglas groaned in disbelief.
'Forget it. I'll take it back myself.'
When it came to running, Douglas was second to none.
He was sure he could easily catch up to Ho-young.
But he was wrong.
'What the...?'
Douglas, confident he'd win the sprint, went full throttle.
And still, he couldn't catch him.
Ho-young, oblivious to it all, tore down the pitch like a madman, quickly crossing the halfway line.
Douglas was completely beaten.
"Ha..."
All Douglas could do was stare blankly at Ho-young's back as he vanished into the distance like a bulldozer.
"What the hell is that kid?!"
In a fit of rage, Douglas kicked the turf.
But the match carried on, unaffected.
[Oof... that was dangerous. That kid's got quite the temper, doesn't he?]
[Hahaha. But seriously, Ho-young is showing us a different side today. Until now, he's been known for his long-range shots, but today he's focusing on breaking through...]
[Ah! Right as you said that! Ho-young is charging into the box without hesitation!]
Ho-young's aggressive dribbling cut through defenders in a flash.
It was like he had boosters strapped to his feet.
'This is straight-up cheating.'
Now that he had actually used Chaminator's Run and Drive himself, he understood.
'How is this even possible?'
From the moment he started running, goosebumps spread across his whole body, and the rush wouldn't stop.
Just how powerful must the talents of players even better than Cha Du-ri be?
'They can't even keep up!'
Only one defender stood in his way now.
A familiar face.
[Casemiro]
[Possessed Talents: Football Prodigy (B+), Sharp Interceptions (B), Reliable Ball Stopping (C)]
(You can obtain one talent by meeting the required condition.)
(Condition 1: Successful solo dribble)
(Condition 2: Score a goal)
The future defensive midfielder of Real Madrid, and a key figure for Brazil's Seleção.
Ho-young charged straight at him.
This was a double win opportunity.
(To be continued.)
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