The field echoed with the cheers of his teammates.
Behind him, a welcome message appeared before Ho-young's eyes.
[Maestro's Build-up (SU) is now available for selection.]
The fact that he could now acquire an SU-grade talent meant that SU (Special Unique) was classified under the U-grade tier.
Ho-young's eyes quickly scanned the screen.
[It will take 150 days → 75 days to fully acquire this talent. You cannot explore other talents during this period.]
Finally!
He had obtained it.
A one-of-a-kind talent that had led France to two World Cup victories over the past eight years.
But it was no longer unique.
The talent that was once art itself, destined to disappear after retirement, had now been entirely passed on to Ho-young.
Zidane's Art Football.
It would not vanish from the pitch until the day Ho-young retired.
Clenching his fists.
"I can do it too."
He murmured to himself.
The voice was calm yet heavy with pressure.
It felt entirely different from when he had obtained other U-grade talents.
A childish thought crossed his mind—like he was wearing a crown on his head.
"Phew."
He trembled.
Anyone watching might have thought he'd gone mad, but Ho-young couldn't take this reality lightly.
Just the thought of acquiring Zidane's talent made his legs tremble.
It had been a while since he'd scored, but the joy and excitement showed no signs of fading.
He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs like a madman.
That he had obtained Zidane's talent.
"Whew."
His breath came out in white puffs.
His tension transformed into burning passion, and then into confidence.
Despite the freezing cold cutting into his bones, Ho-young's body felt lighter.
Confidence warmed both his body and soul.
Even though he had just begun to explore the talent, he was already brimming with self-assurance.
His chest swelled.
It truly felt like he could do anything.
Football—at the highest level.
A broad grin.
The happiest smile in the world bloomed on Ho-young's lips.
But as the match resumed, only seriousness remained on his face.
The second half played out differently from the somewhat dull first half.
Valencia, realizing they couldn't go on like this, began revealing the claws they had kept hidden.
But those claws were sealed before they could even strike.
Real Madrid's midfielders displayed excellent organization, shutting down Valencia's chaotic attempts to create variables.
"Hey!"
Valencia's defensive midfielder Timor was seething inside.
Not only had their claws been ineffective, they had been snatched by a tiger before even a flap of the wings.
That bastard!
His rage bubbled up.
Watching Ho-young drop back slightly to join the defense made him want to run over and grab him by the collar.
That wasn't all.
Whenever Ho-young received the ball, he would trigger physical battles with short, quick passes, leading Valencia's defenders into exposing gaps.
Unable to take it any longer, Timor let out a deep sigh.
"Ugh..."
Then, during a break after the ball went out past the goal line, he gathered the defenders.
He raised his voice in frustration.
"You idiots. Focus on the space you're covering! Are your heads completely empty? Why are you playing along with them when they're clearly building up right in front of you? Why not just join in while you're at it?"
Timor tried to act like a captain, scolding the players.
But in truth, it was just a way to vent his frustration.
"Get it together. We're only one goal behind. If we hold out properly, we can still turn this around."
Five minutes later.
Valencia's defense faced another crisis.
Real Madrid's attackers, with Ho-young leading the charge, began raising the tempo, probing at the weaknesses in the defensive line.
Trying to cause confusion, huh.
A predictable strategy.
Timor scoffed.
Once or twice was one thing, but if you fall for it three or four times, you're no longer fit to be called a defender.
That's what his coach had always taught him.
So he stayed sharp.
Like an immovable old tree, he held his ground and didn't fall for any of the opposition's lures.
Then Marcos from Real Madrid surged down the left flank.
Way too obvious.
Same situation as before.
You think I'll go chasing again?
As the core of Valencia's defense, Timor didn't fall for any bait this time.
Instead, he marked the passing lane connected to Marcos.
That was the mistake.
Thud!
The ball suddenly flew over his head.
A lobbed pass...?
All match, Ho-young had only used short, grounded passes, but now he had pulled out a long ball.
...Ah.
Not falling for the bait had been the wrong move.
Unfit to be called a defender.
He had been breached.
"Damn it!"
This time, he had become the hole in the defense.
Although Marcos' heavy first touch prevented a goal, the real problem lay elsewhere.
What the hell.
He felt dizzy.
It was as if some demonic voice had whispered from somewhere beyond.
Ho-young?
"Grrgh."
The thought that he had fallen for Ho-young's mind games made him furious.
A pain you wouldn't understand unless you experienced it yourself.
"Aaaargh!"
Timor, already a veteran in the youth leagues by age 17, had faced countless rising stars.
But this was a first.
Even when he went up against Bojan, hailed as the next Messi and the top prospect from Barcelona, it wasn't like this.
Back then, he had been outplayed repeatedly by Bojan's shocking individual skills and dribbling, but at least he had understood what went wrong and how to fix it.
But this time...
What the hell am I supposed to do.
He had no idea how to respond.
If Bojan was a god, then Ho-young was a ghost.
Facing Ho-young felt like being possessed.
And before he knew it, he'd committed another mistake.
It felt like Ho-young was standing on his head.
Which only made it more infuriating.
He wanted to crush him.
Even though he knew it wouldn't work, a sense of defiance flared up.
"Hoo!"
You're dead.
Timor clenched both fists and prepared to go all in.
And soon, his chance came.
He's coming.
Ho-young was dribbling past the halfway line.
As if he'd been waiting for this, Timor stuck to him like a tick.
I'm going to crush him.
Before the match, the coach had told them not to get too close to Ho-young and to block off space instead, but Timor couldn't hold back anymore.
He was going to try everything.
Now was the time.
Whip!
Ho-young turned his back with Timor in front of him.
Timor celebrated internally.
Got him.
But that wasn't the end.
Over the past eight months, Ho-young had learned more than just ball control from Zidane.
Zidane's signature move, the Marseille Turn.
Just when it seemed like Ho-young had stopped, his body spun halfway around in a flash.
A 180-degree turn.
It was a smooth rotation, as if his boots had been greased.
"Urgh!"
Timor grimaced and tried to react, but Ho-young's agility wasn't something that could be countered with sheer effort.
Off-balance, Timor tumbled to the ground.
"Ah..."
"What are you doing, Timor? Get up!"
The coach shouted, but Timor didn't budge.
He remained still.
The difference in skill.
It was enough to sap his fighting spirit.
All he could do was watch helplessly as Ho-young scored again.
With Ho-young's second goal, the match became completely one-sided.
For Valencia, there was no hope of a comeback.
A reversal required momentum, but the Bats had nothing left but despair.
Their claws were gone, and now even their wings had been torn off. In the end, they suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of Real Madrid.
The stadium was soon a sea of white.
5-0.
Real Madrid's dominant win brought them one step closer to the league title.
After recording 2 goals and 2 assists in this match, Ho-young was called for a post-match interview.
"People are saying your style of play has changed lately. Watching today's match, I can see why. What do you think about that?"
"Rather than changing, I'm just pulling out different weapons depending on the opponent. I'm learning a new style of football to become a better player."
"There are many who believe you've been influenced by Zinedine Zidane. Sounds like that's true, isn't it?"
"Zizou is the maestro on the field, and he will always be my maestro. I'm already preparing to follow in his footsteps."
His words carried strong conviction.
That was enough of an answer.
"We'll be rooting for you. Do you think a double is possible this season?"
"That's my goal."
"How about the Golden Boot?"
"I'm aiming for the assist title as well. Juvenil B this year is mine!"
"Hahaha."
It was an overwhelming level of confidence.
Understandably so. Ho-young currently had 14 goals and 12 assists in 16 matches, leading both the scoring and assist charts.
More importantly, Real Madrid fans love confident players.
It was a form of fan service.
With bold ambition, Ho-young wrapped up the interview.
The next day, in the corner of the Marca tabloid, an article was published.
[Ho-young, the Beginning of Evolution, Not Change]
Below it was a picture of Ho-young doing his signature "Sui" celebration.
There was no scheduled training for Juvenil B that day, but Ho-young trained alone.
He would have liked to continue his tutoring session, but Zidane had first team duties that day.
So Ho-young visited Zidane's house at the time he knew he'd return.
It had been nine months since he started training with Zidane.
Now extremely close with the Zidane family, Ho-young had become like one of them, frequently coming and going from their home.
He didn't even need to call ahead.
So when Ho-young made a surprise visit that evening, Zidane wasn't even surprised.
Instead, he warmly welcomed him in for dinner.
But before the meal, Ho-young handed him something.
"What's this?"
"It's a small token of appreciation. For qualifying for the Champions League Round of 16... and for being my tutor."
A 3-million won bottle of premium French wine, personally sourced by his agent Lucci.
A significant expense, considering Ho-young only earned 1.8 million won per week.
And that wasn't all.
For Zidane's wife Véronique, he had prepared a set of luxury French cosmetics.
Of course, the Zidane family—earning hundreds of millions per week—could buy such things easily.
But what mattered was Ho-young's sincerity.
They genuinely felt it.
Especially Zidane's wife, who had treated Ho-young like her own son over the past eight months.
Polite, respectful, and playful with their children, Ho-young had always earned praise from her.
And now, he had brought such a thoughtful gift.
They didn't know the exact value, nor did they care.
What touched them was the thought behind it.
It was touching beyond words.
Ho-young and Zidane's eyes met.
[Zinedine Zidane]
[Possessed Talents: Maestro (T), Maestro's Build-up (SU), Artistic Ball Control (SS+), Unrivaled Ball Trapping (SS-), Fantastical Individual Technique (S+3), Phenomenal Press-Resistance (S+)]
(You may select one talent if all conditions are met.)
(Selecting a Title-grade (T) talent allows you to inherit part of the player's senses. However, you must be at least 18 years old to do so.)
(To unlock S-grade or higher talents, hidden conditions must be fulfilled.)
(Condition 1: Train together for 300 minutes)
(Condition 2: Play 90 minutes as a midfielder fulfilling a playmaker role)
(Condition 3: Achieve 2 goals and 2 assists in an official match)
(Hidden Condition: Win a Double in the Juvenil B league)
A Double.
Four months remained in the season.
At this pace, it was well within reach.
And Ho-young could likely acquire several more A-grade talents as well.
The day he had desperately longed for finally arrived two months later, in March.
[Successfully acquired Maestro's Build-up (SU).]
Now truly Zidane's successor, Ho-young had become the bridge between the past and the future.
It might just be the beginning of a legend.
(To be continued.)
◇◇◇
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 200 Power Stones.
◇ You can read the ahead chapter on Pat if you're interested: p-atreon.c-om/Blownleaves (Just remove the hyphen to access normally.)