The night before, there was a detailed briefing on the Japanese national team.
In terms of squad strength alone, Japan rated about a 7 out of 10. However, they had consistently shown strong performances at the Montaigu Tournament.
Not only did they win the championship last year, but they had also reached the semifinals several times before.
That history gave Japan plenty of confidence coming into this year's tournament.
They came with a clear tactical plan aimed at winning, an ultra-defensive strategy inspired by Greece's 2004 European Championship campaign.
Football focused solely on efficiency.
Even if the crowd booed, even if their pass completion rate dropped below 60%, even if their possession dipped under 30%, Japan committed fully to defending.
If they scored first through a counter-attack, they would drop all their players deep and adopt an extreme defensive shape.
If they didn't manage to score, they would still grind out a draw through sheer tenacity to secure a point.
But that kind of football only worked in the group stages.
From the semifinals onward, if a match was tied after 90 minutes, it would go to extra time.
That's exactly what Manager Park Kyung-woon aimed to exploit.
If the opponent was planning to park the bus, Korea would calmly dominate possession, conserve their stamina, and go all out in the latter stages of the game.
But Ho-young had asked this during the tactical meeting:
"Can't we just go all in from the start?"
And the manager had firmly shaken his head.
"They're not an easy opponent. They're relentless. The fact that they only conceded once against England says it all. And their counter-attacks are top-notch."
This was a critical match.
With the nation's attention focused on them, the pressure was immense. A good result was absolutely necessary.
If they charged forward recklessly and conceded instead of scoring?
The backlash would be swift and brutal.
No matter how well they had played throughout the tournament, it would all be forgotten in the flood of criticism.
That was exactly what Manager Park wanted to avoid.
That's why Korea came out in a 4-5-1 formation.
A setup designed to dominate the midfield through numerical superiority. The wingers were instructed to support centrally rather than play high up the pitch.
The aim was to control the game while conserving energy.
Suk Hyun-jun was positioned at the top, Lee Chung-yong was placed on the right wing, and Ho-young on the left.
This strategy allowed them to manage both the midfield and flanks while minimizing Japan's counter-attacking opportunities.
As the match kicked off, disappointed voices echoed from the French commentary studio.
"The viewers must already be exhausted. Everyone expected Korea to come out firing, but they're playing quite passively."
"I can't believe it. We knew Japan would defend deep, but I didn't expect Korea to be this cautious."
"I admit, I was looking forward to a brawl, especially with the Korea–Japan rivalry. But look at this. It's the complete opposite."
"Well, it's understandable. This is a must-win match for both sides. Even this kind of game has its charm. The tension around who scores first is palpable."
And just like the commentators predicted, the match unfolded cautiously.
Japan dropped into a five-back line from the get-go, while Korea gradually expanded their zone of activity from the center to the flanks.
It was a battle between sword and shield.
No, it was more like a blunt stick than a sword.
Not sharp, but thick. Meant more for control than piercing.
They simply prodded at Japan's defensive wall from a distance, poking and testing.
Almost as if daring them to come forward.
Using that stick, they seized control of the pitch, jabbing occasionally to keep Japan from counter-attacking.
As a result, by the 5th minute of the first half, Korea held an astounding 72% possession.
Focused only on clear scoring opportunities, they would pass backward the moment they felt the risk of losing the ball.
The crowd, hoping for a more aggressive match, began to boo.
"Boooooo!"
The first to react was none other than Ho-young.
'They're not booing at me, right?'
He flinched instinctively, worried the jeers were directed at him.
But it felt like they might be.
People had come to see thrilling plays, but all they got was possession drills and side passes.
'I'd boo too if I were them.'
Truthfully, even Ho-young found it frustrating.
By the 10th minute, not a single goal had been scored.
This wasn't just a slow game, it was peaceful to the point of boredom.
What Ho-young wanted was football that resembled war — colliding physically, battling for victory.
Fierce mental duels followed by brutal physical clashes.
That was his kind of game.
He craved cheers, not boos.
But, of course, you can't always play the way you want.
'If this is the path to victory, then I'll follow it.'
However, this match was different.
They needed to win by at least three goals.
'I just can't overdo it.'
Ho-young's gaze shifted to the far end of the pitch.
He saw the tightly packed Japanese defense, huddled together with infuriating discipline.
He wanted to shatter their tranquility.
'Hmm. I see openings... but...'
He had broken down Germany's iron defense, was Japan's backline really too much?
He stole a glance at Manager Park Kyung-woon.
'It's a good strategy. It ensures stability while maximizing efficiency.'
But Ho-young had a feeling that if he tweaked it a little, they could do better.
So he acted.
He'd had enough of the psychological tug-of-war.
'Let's give it a shot.'
"Hyung! Send it here!"
Thump.
Without hesitation, Kim Shin-woo rolled a ground pass toward him.
And Ho-young sprinted forward.
It was a decision he could make because he knew what he was capable of.
"!"
It all happened in an instant.
As soon as he received the ball, Ho-young pushed past the oncoming forward and crossed the halfway line.
"What the—!"
The sudden spike in tempo in the 10th minute of the first half startled the Japanese players.
Even his own teammates were caught off guard.
"Why now?!"
Koo Ja-myung, who had been organizing the midfield, shouted in confusion.
But it didn't matter.
Slightly adjusting Manager Park's tactics was well within a player's discretion, especially for someone like Ho-young, who had been given a free role and was expected to lead creatively.
"Just support me once from behind. I'm going to try to break through."
"Okay. Let's go quick. They're scared."
"Yeah."
Ho-young exhaled briefly.
His eyes curved into a smile, and the corners of his mouth lifted.
He couldn't describe how happy this moment made him.
It wasn't just about relieving the frustration. He now had complete confidence in this match.
After all, happiness in football only comes when you're in control of the ball.
It was then.
His confidence erupted.
And from the commentary studio came an excited shout.
"Ahhhhh! He's awakened! Ho-young has awakened! He's running wild! What a brilliant run! He just keeps going!"
"I knew it. Korea's manager Park Kyung-woon was hiding his teeth for this exact moment."
They began praising Korea's manager.
But Park Kyung-woon, watching from the touchline, was filled with concern.
"Be careful not to lose the ball!"
Before the match, he had granted Ho-young a free role to allow for unpredictability, but this particular play felt a bit risky.
What if he lost possession?
Rather than hoping it would go well, he feared a failed attack might lead to a dangerous counter.
'Germany's defenders had excellent individual ability, but Japan has superb defensive organization. This kind of play won't be easy.'
He ran his hand through his beard, watching Ho-young with worried eyes.
"Ah!!"
A groan of frustration followed.
Ho-young's surprise long-range shot had been punched away by the goalkeeper.
Still, it was a solid attempt, and more than enough to shake Japan's backline.
And in the 14th minute of the first half, that spark lit a fire under the Korean players.
From that point, their attacks became far more direct and aggressive.
Japan, who had built their reputation on disciplined and sturdy defense, was forced into a dilemma.
"Should we start pressing from the halfway line?"
"Coach says to narrow the gaps! Don't leave any space!"
"Okay. I'll help, but don't let him line up a shot. Just block off the space."
After some discussion, Japan decided to switch to aggressive man-marking to stop Ho-young.
But five minutes later, Ho-young showed them just how flawed their response was.
When Japan tightened their defensive lines to block space, Ho-young shrugged off a defender and played a key pass into the open space behind.
Suk Hyun-jun didn't miss the chance.
Thud!
Korea's opening goal.
"Nice!"
Manager Park let out a roar.
A thrilling electric jolt surged through his scalp like his hair was being ripped out.
Watching Ho-young reminded him of Park Ju-young's youth international days.
The time when Park weaved through four defenders and scored with a solo effort came rushing back to him.
Park Ju-young.
A product of Brazilian football training, and a top scorer in various youth tournaments. A rising star of Korean football.
'No, to be honest, this kid's far better.'
Even a blind coach could see that.
Though Park Kyung-woon didn't say it out loud, he knew it well.
Ho-young wasn't without flaws, but his strengths were exceptionally clear.
That's why he could perform at this level, even as a 13-year-old in a U16 tournament.
'This kid is going to shake up the national team in the future.'
In any case, there was no doubt about it — he was a player worth getting excited about.
While Korea's players celebrated, Japan's defenders erupted in frustration.
"Why'd you let Suk Hyun-jun go?!"
"You said you'd cover for me!"
"Damn it. Don't fight. It's not over yet. The center-backs need to close in more. Full-backs, help out!"
They tried to pull themselves together.
They decided to give up some space on the flanks and concentrate on the middle to stop Ho-young's playmaking.
But that defensive adjustment was quickly seen through by Korea.
Ho-young, observing the defenders' movements, visualized the pitch in his head.
'Let's find the gap.'
And it didn't take long.
Through a switch with Lee Chung-yong, Ho-young caused chaos on the wing.
Then, with an explosive sprint, he set up Korea's second goal.
Thud!
"Gooooooal! Suk Hyun-jun scores Korea's second!"
"Absolutely. A calm assist from Lee Chung-yong, but even more impressive was Ho-young's explosive run before that. His performance is even better than it was against Germany. He really shines against weaker defenses."
Cheers from the commentary box were followed by deafening roars from the crowd.
"Uoooooooh!"
Among them were Korean tourists in the stands.
On the other hand, the Japanese side looked devastated.
Their shattered defensive structure was beyond repair.
The shock of the situation had gone beyond anger.
Kagawa Shinji bit his lower lip.
His face looked like he would burst into tears if someone even tapped him.
He remembered the chuckle Ho-young let out before the match began.
A chill ran down his spine.
'That kid's a demon.'
Just like that, the defending champions were plummeting into the abyss.
Piii!
With Suk Hyun-jun's brace, the first half ended 2-0, and over 10,000 spectators erupted into applause.
Even long after the Korean players had returned to the locker room, the excitement didn't die down.
Fans everywhere were gesturing in amazement.
"These Asian kids are incredible. This was more exciting than the France-Germany match!"
"Yeah, but you know the saying. Asian players peak at 16."
"Either way, it was entertaining. I love these intense matches."
The crowd buzzed like it was a festival, all thanks to Korea's thrilling display.
Meanwhile, inside Korea's locker room, a very different mood prevailed.
It was the atmosphere created by Manager Park Kyung-woon, who had entered earlier.
The players walked in just then.
"Good work out there."
"Yeah, good job, everyone."
Manager Park greeted each player individually, then walked over to Ho-young.
With a serious expression, he said,
"Well done. Let's keep it going in the second half."
"Ha... thank you."
Ho-young bowed his head.
His face was flushed red, and he was panting hard.
He looked exhausted after constantly running around.
It was clear he was hitting a physical limit.
"Tired?"
"...I'm fine. I'll keep going a bit more."
It was brutal, but he endured.
Just one more goal.
That was all they needed.
(To be continued.)
***
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