Today, Real Madrid's opponent was Chicago Fire Soccer Club, a powerhouse in American professional football that uses Toyota Park as its home ground.
However, today's match was being held at Soldier Field, the home stadium of the NFL's Chicago Bears.
It was around 2:20 PM.
[Over 60,000 fans filling the stands are erupting in cheers. I expected most of them came to see Real Madrid, but it looks like there are quite a few die-hard Fire fans as well.]
[It's not a game Chicago Fire can afford to take lightly. There was a pre-match fan poll. About 40% said they came to see Real Madrid, but 41% said they hoped for a Chicago Fire win. That shows how much interest the citizens of Chicago have in football.]
[What about the remaining 19%?]
[They said they came to see what football is all about.]
[Haha. 19% is actually lower than expected.]
The United States, a sporting superpower, has long been considered barren ground for football.
So much so that during the 1994 World Cup in the US, many Americans reportedly only learned what football was at that time.
Indeed, interest in the sport has traditionally been very low in the US.
While most of the world calls it football, Americans uniquely refer to it as soccer.
Still, in recent years, the game has grown rapidly in the US.
In particular, Chicago, with its large immigrant population, showed significantly more interest in football compared to other regions. The enthusiasm of the citizens was clearly visible today.
[It would be great for Fire to grab a win, but their opponent is no pushover. Even with many first-team players missing, Real Madrid is still a top-tier club. And they'll need to be wary of Ho-young, just 14 years old.]
[Exactly. Since kickoff, he hasn't stopped touching the ball. It's as if he's trying to take over the entire match. He's constantly attempting to control the game. No, he already is.]
[Right as you say that, Ho-young, positioned in the center, plays a pass to the left winger, Callejón.]
Just as the commentators pointed out, Ho-young had been dictating the game since it began, while Robinho could only watch from afar.
Positionally, Ho-young was playing deeper than Robinho, so it was inevitable.
The early stages of the first half flowed without much disruption.
Real Madrid slowly began to take control of the midfield, centering around the defensive midfield duo of Diarra and Tébar, who had been promoted from Castilla.
Overall, the game was proceeding smoothly.
In the 10th minute, Chicago earned a free kick following a reckless challenge from Pepe, but they couldn't convert the opportunity.
After that, they failed to create any meaningful attacking chances and mostly found themselves on the back foot against Real Madrid.
Ten minutes later, Real's attacking rhythm began to pick up again.
Tap, tap.
Receiving a pass from Diarra, Ho-young stopped the ball at his feet and calmly looked ahead.
'Robinho.'
He saw Robinho dropping deeper from the front line to receive the ball, gesturing with a face that looked like he'd sulk if he didn't get it.
'Why's he being so clingy today?'
But Ho-young looked away.
Was it because he didn't want to pass?
Not at all.
After calculating the timing and spacing, it was clear that passing to Robinho wouldn't be beneficial.
A pass must have a clear purpose toward scoring.
Only then can it truly threaten the opposition's defense.
And Ho-young didn't want to get into a visible power struggle on the pitch.
He had felt Robinho's animosity recently, but he didn't intend to fan the flames directly.
Of course, he wanted to be the main character of the match.
But he was trying not to let others distract him.
Just like the advice he once got from Cha Bum-kun. He only needed to focus on playing football.
"Pass! Pass it to me!"
Robinho's voice echoed as he demanded the ball.
Glancing quickly around the area, Ho-young processed the situation rapidly.
'Too risky. There are two defenders nearby who are excellent at cutting off passes and intercepting the ball. Even though Robinho is one of the best dribblers in the world, his effectiveness drops significantly when he receives the ball with his back to goal.'
A cool, swift judgment.
It wasn't guaranteed to be 100% correct.
But with sharp anticipation, fast decision-making, and excellent spatial awareness, Ho-young trusted his instincts and acted accordingly.
He ignored Robinho's shout and shifted his gaze leftward.
His eyes gleamed with intelligence, and his movement was composed.
The searing heat of the match seemed to cool slightly in response to his calmness.
A distinct chill in the flow of play began to emerge.
Then, from the left, a small-framed man charged forward like a bullet.
It was Roberto Carlos.
He was charging up the left flank with his signature aggression, under the blazing sun.
His daring overlapping run was wreaking havoc on the left wing.
The stadium's energy flared up again.
Ho-young's eyes lit up just as fiercely.
Smack!
He sent a precise chipped pass into the space behind the left back, landing perfectly at Carlos's feet.
A textbook through ball.
Like a sudden gust of wind, a fierce attack erupted from Carlos's foot.
At the same time, Ho-young sprinted into the penalty area.
Robinho followed suit.
Smelling the scent of a goal, he moved into position near Carlos.
Carlos's eyes flashed.
Ho-young was farther out. Robinho was closer.
Without hesitation, Carlos struck the ball with his left foot.
Despite being 35 years old, the cross was explosive and razor-sharp, skimming low across the ground.
And it was aimed not at Robinho, but at Ho-young's feet.
Smack!
"What the hell!!"
Robinho's face twisted in frustration.
Meanwhile, Ho-young's eyes narrowed.
'This is it.'
The path to goal opened wide.
The goalkeeper looked shaken, panic already visible.
Just 8 meters away.
That was 3 meters closer than a penalty spot.
If he struck it cleanly, the odds of scoring were overwhelming.
Even more so with the Finishing of the Football Emperor.
Although he hadn't fully acquired it yet, the beginning was already enough.
Ho-young confidently positioned his body for a shot.
With the intent to blow away the sweltering heat, he swung hard and cleanly at the lower center of the ball without hesitation.
And at that exact moment—
"!"
As soon as the ball met his foot, Ho-young felt as if he had kicked a bowling ball.
Truly worthy of his reputation.
Carlos's cross was powerful.
But thanks to Ho-young's refined first touch, the shot came off perfectly.
The ball, flying like lightning, sped past the diving goalkeeper and slammed precisely into the corner of the net.
Swoosh!
"Suiii!"
A valuable opening goal for Real Madrid, and Ho-young's second goal in as many games.
Today, he was writing his second miracle.
Meanwhile, Robinho, who had not received the pass, looked completely devastated.
Unable to hide his displeasure, he stormed toward Carlos and let it all out.
"Robert, what the hell are you doing?"
"What?"
"Why the hell did you pass to that brat Ho-young instead of me?"
"Rob, don't ask dumb questions. I just went with the better chance."
Carlos looked at him in disbelief.
He had no special reason for passing to Ho-young.
As one of the greatest left-backs in football history, he simply made the best decision for the team.
"Ho had the better position than you."
Simply put, Ho-young's positioning was better.
Robinho wasn't the type to exploit space. He was more of a player who tore through defenses with dazzling dribbles.
He wasn't lacking in positioning sense, but it wasn't his specialty.
And with weaker anticipation and decision-making, he naturally lost out to Ho-young in that aspect.
That stung Robinho.
"Fine, just pass it to me. Why is it always him…"
But—
Carlos cut him off like a pair of scissors.
"Quit whining. This is the pitch."
He had no intention of playing buddy-buddy here.
This wasn't a Brazilian social club. This was Real Madrid.
"Tonto!"
Robinho responded by calling Carlos a fool in Portuguese.
But this wasn't the first time. Carlos didn't care in the slightest and walked away.
Instead, he went over to Ho-young and gave him a thumbs-up.
"That was a great goal. The ball must've felt heavy."
"No. It felt great."
Ho-young's voice trembled slightly.
Carlos was much shorter than him, but the pressure radiating from his solid frame was immense.
He could only imagine how terrifying it would be to face Carlos as an opponent.
'That's some terrifying talent.'
True to his reputation for hard work, Carlos had maintained his high-level talent rating.
It wouldn't be long before Ho-young could try to acquire his S-grade talent.
Tap.
As Ho-young was lost in thought, Carlos placed a hand on his shoulder.
"But don't hate Robinho for it. Right now, we're all on the same team."
It wasn't that Carlos was taking Robinho's side.
Ho-young understood the meaning behind his words clearly.
And they made him realize a lot.
"Yes, understood."
Midway through the first half.
With a one-goal lead, Real Madrid kept pounding on the opposition's goal.
Chicago tried to hold them off by adding more defenders, but once the door had been opened, it couldn't be closed again.
Real Madrid's attack, worth over 100 million euros, was relentless.
[Robinho! He breaks into the penalty area!]
[But the angle is tight. He strikes with his left foot... it hits the post and goes out. That was a good attempt. Robinho, who had been quiet for most of the first half, is finally coming alive. You don't get called the world's best dribbler for nothing.]
[Indeed. Ho-young is keeping a wide field of vision and enabling Robinho's plays. That's becoming a clear theme in this match.]
As Robinho got more involved, Real Madrid's momentum grew stronger.
In particular, the left side, with Carlos and Callejón, became an absolute war zone.
That paid off right before halftime.
Callejón scored an additional goal with a clever lob shot after receiving a key pass from Carlos.
Chicago tried to respond by increasing their attacking numbers for a counterattack, but it ended in disappointment, and they fully surrendered momentum to Real Madrid.
'Their level is like an upper-mid-tier Segunda División team.'
In Ho-young's view, Chicago Fire's level was far below La Liga standards.
As long as they didn't get complacent, they could score plenty more goals.
But he was still thirsty for more.
He had a lot he wanted to show the fans who had come to see him.
With Chicago being a city with a large Korean community, many had come specifically to watch Ho-young, including individual fans who had even brought homemade banners.
'Yeah, this is just the beginning.'
If the first half was a warm-up, then the second half would be the real show.
He couldn't wait for it to start.
And once the second half kicked off, Robinho's expression completely changed.
'As long as Ho-young keeps dominating in the second line, I'll never get to stand out.'
With that realization, Robinho steeled his resolve.
He couldn't let this continue.
This was the professional world.
At this rate, he'd lose his place.
So he stepped back and dropped into the second line.
The clash between two cracks had begun in earnest.
(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.)