The Brazil U-15 National League that had stretched over nine months had finally come to an end, yet Ho-young felt a strange mix of emotions.
To say there were no lingering regrets or attachments would be a lie.
He felt relieved, but at the same time, a bit empty.
If only he had focused a little more, if only he had worked harder, perhaps he could've achieved even greater results.
Anyone with a competitive spirit knows that kind of feeling all too well.
Still, perhaps it was precisely that desperation that had driven Ho-young to achieve this level of performance.
Looking back, the memories made his head spin.
That's how tough this season had been.
Which is exactly why he knew he'd miss it.
So today...
"Champions!!"
"Wooooooaaaahhh!!"
He would enjoy it.
38 matches, 25 wins, 8 draws, 5 losses. 87 goals scored, 39 conceded.
Each and every point earned with hard-fought sweat had led to this championship trophy.
The players celebrated by lifting the trophy in joy.
On the pitch, all that remained were the emotions, rage and elation.
Neymar, unable to contain his anger, stood out. And lying flat on the ground was Ho-young.
He should've been jumping with joy, but he couldn't even muster the strength to stand.
He had poured out everything he had, right down to his last ounce of energy.
His tongue tasted metallic and his lips trembled slightly.
He closed his eyes under the warm sunlight falling on his face.
The victory felt amazing, but there was something he had to reflect on.
'Storm Dribbling.'
Today had been the first time he used it at full power.
The effect was incredible, but the side effects were just as significant.
'I need to build up more stamina and strengthen my body. Otherwise, I'll burn out too fast.'
Whether it was dribbling or shooting, using advanced techniques always took a toll on the body.
That's why conditioning was essential.
'But first, let's take care of this...'
[Select the talent you wish to obtain.]
- Excellent Passing (B+2)
- Solid Fundamentals (B)
This was Ganso's talent.
Ho-young selected Excellent Passing (B+2), and just then, a shadow fell across his face.
It was Breno, his eyes bloodshot as if he was on the verge of tears.
But he didn't cry.
Instead, he extended a hand and helped Ho-young up, speaking through the emotions threatening to spill out.
"Ho-young, thank you."
Ho-young knew just how much Breno had been through mentally.
His nose tingled with emotion.
When his chest began to feel hot, Breno suddenly pulled him into a hug.
"Well done. All of us."
Ho-young silently patted Breno's back.
Now, he finally understood what Kaká had meant.
That there were ten players behind him, and he had no reason to be afraid.
'It's really true.'
This match had taught him a lot.
Afterward, he shared a brief moment with Neymar.
Ho-young didn't have to approach first. Neymar walked up and offered a handshake.
Even he couldn't deny Ho-young anymore.
The emotion in Neymar's eyes—whether it was awe or something else—said it all.
As their hands clasped, Neymar's brow twitched.
'What's with all these calluses...?'
Ho-young's hand was rough, covered in hardened skin.
It wasn't just football. The dedication to physical training was obvious just from that one touch.
"..."
Neymar, too, had a lot to reflect on.
Maybe he had grown complacent.
He thought he'd been working hard, but maybe that wasn't the case.
He had been overconfident in his talent.
That handshake and today's match sparked Neymar's competitive fire.
'Next time, I'll win.'
If Ho-young was going to work this hard, then he would work even harder to rise even higher.
It had been a painful loss, but a valuable one.
The same went for Ho-young.
There were still countless peaks left to climb, but today, he felt like he had conquered a mountain.
Later, in the interview zone, camera flashes burst everywhere.
Ho-young, the standout performer of the day, was being interviewed.
"You scored a brace today and lifted the National League championship trophy. There's a lot to talk about, but let me start with this. How do you feel right now?"
"It's the best."
What more needed to be said?
Even at this moment, during the interview, he felt like his chest might burst from emotion.
"Hooo..."
As Ho-young settled his emotions, the reporter asked the next question.
"So, what's your next goal?"
His answer was clear and direct.
"The Super Championship. The treble."
At that moment, São Paulo FC's locker room felt like a banquet hall.
Even Carlos, usually composed and stoic, was enjoying the victory to the fullest.
He offered praise freely, especially to Breno.
"Hard work never betrays you."
The words struck Breno's heart.
It was a common saying, but at this moment, it had never rung truer.
"Thank you. It's all thanks to my teammates."
"Breno, today, you should thank yourself more than anyone else. You earned it. No doubt about that."
"But before that, I want to thank him properly."
"Who?"
"Ho-young. He made time to train with me."
"Then yes, you absolutely should. But you must also be proud of yourself. You were the one who chose to train."
"No."
"Hmm?"
Breno's chest felt tight.
His voice cracked.
"It wasn't my choice... he practically dragged me out there. And it was so hard. I complained too. But he... helped me. That's why... we won today..."
Tears.
Warm droplets ran down his rough cheeks without resistance.
As if releasing everything he had held in for so long, Breno opened his heart in front of Carlos.
Breno.
The captain was crying.
But his eyes and mouth were smiling.
Carlos's lips curled upward too.
'These kids.'
This was why he insisted on coaching youth players.
The tournaments may be small, but the players' dreams are huge, and their passion burns hot.
Right in the middle of all that is friendship.
And when he feels that, he feels reborn.
'Yeah, this is it.'
Carlos's mustache twitched.
His smile quickly faded into a serious expression.
"That's right."
"Sir...?"
"Nothing, just thinking."
That what he had brought back from Korea wasn't just some average prospect.
The next day.
The Youth Football Federation's technical committee officially named Ho-young the Man of the Match.
At that moment, still passed out in bed at home, Ho-young's eyes snapped open.
[Select the talent you wish to obtain.]
- Creative Flair (A)
- Exceptional Flexibility (A-)
- Sharp Decision-Making (A-)
-(See More)
By winning the match, scoring, and being selected as Man of the Match, he had successfully met the requirements to copy Neymar's talent.
After a brief moment of thought, he chose the second option.
Exceptional Flexibility.
Given Ho-young's already strong muscular strength, this was a much-needed talent.
'The physical coach always said it.'
To use the body efficiently, strength and flexibility had to be balanced.
He had heard it so often that the phrase was permanently etched into his mind.
Especially in football, flexibility was crucial for maintaining balance during quick direction changes or dribbling.
It was a must-have talent to bring back from Brazil.
Four days later.
The 38th round of the National League was held.
With the title already secured, São Paulo FC played with ease and wrapped up the season with a commanding 5-0 win.
In that match, Ho-young scored another brilliant mid-range goal, securing the Golden Boot.
It was a perfect morning.
And that energy carried over into the awards ceremony later that afternoon at Arena Paulo Stadium.
After nine months, it was time to honor the players who had run this long journey.
"Congratulations, Ho-young."
"Thank you."
Formal greetings were exchanged as the trophy and prize money were handed to Ho-young.
Unanimously selected by the technical committee, he was awarded the Golden Ball.
He also claimed the Golden Boot with 29 goals in the league.
Furthermore, he was named to the season's Best Eleven.
Three individual awards.
Then came the final reward.
[You have unlocked: Football Prodigy (S-)]
Hidden condition: Win the Golden Ball.
By fulfilling that requirement, he had finally acquired it.
[Time to fully obtain the talent: 80 days → 40 days. You cannot acquire other talents during this time.]
'In 40 days, by March 28th... I'll have Football Prodigy.'
A grin spread across his face.
All the exhaustion clinging to his body melted away.
'Facing strong teams really does bring bigger rewards.'
It was the perfect reward to cap off a grueling but glorious finale.
Meanwhile, the award for Best Forward went to Pato, who scored 27 goals, and the Silver Ball was awarded to Neymar, who finished third in the Golden Boot race.
But more satisfying than anything was seeing Breno and Casemiro ranked 2nd and 3rd in Best Defender.
Oscar took the Best Midfielder award, and Ederson was named Best Goalkeeper, giving São Paulo FC the most individual honors of any club.
That day.
Ho-young, who swept three individual awards, was incredibly busy.
He made time to call Korea and later filled his stomach at a simple celebration hosted by the club.
Only after he had washed up and collapsed into bed did it all begin to feel real.
'I really did it...'
He had achieved his goal.
Even he could hardly believe it.
He was proud of himself for never once slowing down.
The Brazil League would be a lasting and unforgettable experience.
Coincidentally, the radio was playing the Vengaboys' famous song, "To Brazil." The mood was perfectly sentimental.
Although the league was over and his schedule had opened up, training still continued.
The days were long—from sunrise to sunset.
It was grueling and exhausting, perhaps more so than ever.
And yet, strangely enough, even though the days felt slow, the weeks flew by.
Training hard, pushing forward, time passed.
And soon, the final match of the season approached.
The Treble.
Only one match remained—the Super Championship Final.
February 27th, Sunday.
At Moisés do Maracanã Stadium, located in the state of Rio de Janeiro.
The match hadn't even started, yet the locker room was already filled with energy.
It was the passion of the players who had ridden the bus from São Paulo early that morning.
Carlos spoke up.
"Give it your all until the end. Do something nine times right, but mess up once, and people will still tear you apart."
Their final step toward the treble.
Their opponent was CR Vasco da Gama, a club based in Rio de Janeiro.
"Watch out for one player. As always, it's Philippe Coutinho."
Philippe Coutinho.
Position: Attacking Midfielder.
A rising star who would one day be called the successor to Iniesta and a key figure in the Brazilian national team's midfield.
Thinking of Coutinho's face, Ho-young showed no hesitation.
"Let's crush him."
There was no fear or doubt on the faces of the players.
As long as they didn't get complacent, they were confident in victory.
They had already faced Coutinho twice during the league. There was no reason to be nervous now.
After all, they had already taken down Neymar and Pato.
Their confidence was through the roof.
And it showed the moment the match began.
With over 7,000 spectators in attendance, it was a fiery atmosphere, especially for a youth match.
Matching that energy, São Paulo's players delivered a fiery performance.
1st minute of the first half.
A long-range shot was unleashed from about 30 meters out.
Ho-young's right foot struck the ball cleanly, and it flew powerfully toward the open space in the goal.
The net rippled a moment later, declaring the might of the National League champions.
And at the same time...
[Powerful Long Shot That Penetrates Gaps (B+2)↑]
His skill was growing as rapidly as his performance.
"Ho!"
Roaring in delight, Ho-young sprinted across the pitch.
It was, to exaggerate only slightly, a spectacle.
He was showcasing the full strength of a league champion without holding back.
The rest of the match continued in similar fashion.
From the backline to the front, the gap in ability became clear.
It was hard to believe this was a final. São Paulo FC completely dominated.
After enduring countless storms, the ground had hardened.
And now, new sprouts had begun to grow.
Especially Ho-young, who was delivering his best performance of the season.
Perhaps...
This might just be his last match in Brazil.
(To be continued.)