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"Huh? We finished first in the group?"
Even Lance was confused after the draw against Ireland.
For Belgium to somehow top the group like this, their luck was almost unbelievable.
Back in the locker room, the players were just about to put on music and celebrate.
Lukaku had already started dancing wildly with his teammates.
Then Head Coach Wilmots walked in and immediately turned off the stereo.
The room fell silent.
Only then did everyone realize something was wrong.
"Do you think you played well today?"
Wilmots was usually easygoing. His rare outburst instantly silenced the entire squad.
"If it weren't for Lance's free kick, you might already be eliminated!"
"If anyone doesn't want to play, you can go home right now! I won't stop you. Go!"
Wilmots pointed angrily toward the door.
The Belgian players exchanged glances but didn't dare move.
After a tense silence, Wilmots saw that everyone had finally become serious and nodded with satisfaction.
Even so, his expression remained grim.
"Since none of you want to leave and all of you want to stay, then show me the proper attitude."
"You were lucky. You still managed to finish first despite playing like that."
"But this is the most embarrassing first-place finish in the entire tournament."
"Your reward is your next opponent."
"The Spain National Team."
Only then did the players fully realize the severity of the situation.
Spain.
Lukaku forced out an awkward smile and muttered under his breath:
"Oh, we're so screwed."
"Hey, Koke."
"What?"
"You know Lance better than anyone. Do you know what his weakness is?"
At Spain's training base, Koke found himself surrounded by teammates as soon as training ended.
Isco, Fàbregas, Pedro, Azpilicueta, and several others had gathered around him.
After Atlético Madrid's historic treble-winning season, both Koke and Saúl had been selected for Spain's European Championship squad.
Koke had even started in the group stage victory over Turkey, helping Spain win 3-0.
He was named Man of the Match after an outstanding performance.
However, in the decisive match against Croatia, veteran manager Vicente del Bosque chose not to trust him.
Instead, he started Busquets, Fàbregas, and Iniesta in midfield.
The aging Fàbregas and Iniesta struggled against a Croatia side led by Luka Modrić.
Spain lost 2-1.
Not only did they lose the match, but they also surrendered first place in the group and were forced into a Round of 16 clash with Belgium.
Afterward, Spanish media heavily criticized Del Bosque's decisions.
"Why Didn't Koke Play?" quickly became a trending topic.
Even Del Bosque—the manager who had guided Spain to the 2008 European Championship, the 2010 World Cup, and the 2012 European Championship—found himself facing growing criticism.
Now that the knockout matchups had been finalized, what Belgium didn't know was that Spain were nervous too.
Neither side was particularly happy with the draw.
As a result, everyone wanted firsthand information from Koke, the player who knew Lance best.
Surrounded by his teammates, Koke looked utterly helpless.
Fortunately, Saúl arrived and chased the group away.
"Isco, didn't you meet Lance years ago at Real Madrid?" Saúl said. "Shouldn't you know him pretty well?"
"I'm not even a starter," Isco replied. "And I barely played against him."
"Then go ask Busquets. Go ask Iniesta."
"...I wouldn't dare."
Atlético Madrid had beaten Barcelona to both the league title and the Copa del Rey.
Isco had no desire to rub salt into old wounds.
Fortunately, Koke was an honest man.
After thinking for a moment, he answered seriously.
"When you're facing Lance, don't even think about completely shutting him down."
"We should focus on attacking instead."
The answer was practically useless.
The Spanish players remained uneasy.
Lance's performances in La Liga the previous season had terrified almost every defender in Spain.
Most of them still carried some psychological scars.
At that moment, Del Bosque walked over.
He dismissed everyone else and deliberately kept Koke behind.
"Koke."
"Coach?"
Koke looked puzzled.
"Against Lance, I want you to use your experience to limit him."
"Me?"
Koke pointed at himself.
"Yes. I believe you can do it."
In reality, Del Bosque didn't believe it either.
He understood Lance's abilities very well.
But what choice did he have?
Busquets had already been completely dominated by Lance and practically lost confidence whenever he saw him.
Among Spain's midfielders, Koke was probably the only one with any chance.
"Alright."
"I'll do my best."
As he prepared to face Lance as an opponent for the first time while starting, Koke was also curious.
He wanted to see exactly how large the gap between himself and his club teammate had become.
After training, Koke made a phone call.
The call connected quickly.
Lance's familiar voice answered in fluent Spanish.
"Hey, brother. What made you call?"
Lance was surprised.
Koke rarely contacted people first.
"In the next knockout match, I'm going to shut you down."
Koke got straight to the point.
Lance didn't laugh.
Instead, his expression grew serious.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"Good."
"Then give it everything you've got."
"Because I'll be giving everything I've got too."
June 26, 2016.
Saint-Denis, north of Paris.
Stade de France.
The two club teammates who had spoken days earlier finally met again in the player tunnel.
Lance wore Belgium's red home kit.
Koke stood opposite him in Spain's white away strip.
"Brother."
"I hope this will be a great match."
"I hope so too."
No further words were necessary.
Until the final whistle, they were opponents.
The tense atmosphere lasted only a few seconds.
Then it was shattered.
Saúl suddenly appeared and wrapped an arm around both of them.
"Brothers! What are you two talking about?"
"Get lost."
"This is a conversation between starters. Substitutes aren't qualified to listen."
"Damn it!"
Saúl clutched his chest dramatically.
The words cut deep.
Lance couldn't help smiling.
At Atlético Madrid, he often teased Saúl this way.
After all, the midfielder was still usually a substitute.
The three chatted briefly before separating.
Lance returned to the front of Belgium's lineup and glanced toward Spain's starters.
Juanfran met his gaze from afar.
The two exchanged silent nods.
As for Busquets, Piqué, Ramos, Iniesta, and the others...
Their expressions were somewhat complicated.
The Champions League Final and Copa del Rey Final were still fresh in their minds.
The psychological scars Lance had left behind had yet to heal.
Who would have thought this "Oriental Devil" would follow them all the way to the European Championship?
If Busquets understood Chinese, he would probably be muttering about his terrible luck.
Now that they were here, however, there was no choice but to face him.
Both teams stepped onto the pitch amid a mixture of tension and anticipation.
Thousands of miles away in the East, countless fans had already gathered in front of their televisions.
The familiar commentator's voice rang out once more.
"Alright! Both teams have entered the field!"
"The marquee matchup of the European Championship Round of 16 is about to begin!"
"Let's take a look at the starting lineups!"
Belgium (4-2-3-1)
Courtois
Meunier, Alderweireld, Vermaelen, Vertonghen
Fellaini, Witsel
De Bruyne, Lance, Hazard
Lukaku
Spain (4-3-3)
De Gea
Juanfran, Ramos, Piqué, Alba
Koke, Busquets, Iniesta
Silva, Morata, Pedro
Beep—!
"CCTV! CCTV!"
"Dear viewers, you are now watching the featured Round of 16 match of the 2016 European Championship!"
"Lance's Belgium take on the defending European champions, Spain!"