My Girlfriend Wants Victory

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**Seoul, South Korea.**

Once, Kang Doohyun, who went by the nickname Kurrehou at Ho Woo Gallery.

He successfully married the lover he thought was his destiny.

Now about to become a father, he devoted himself to family, even giving up watching his only hobby, live broadcasts of soccer.

All he could do was fill his small happiness by watching highlight videos on his morning commute.

– “Mr. Kang, did you see Son Jinho win the Ballon d’Or?”

– “Wow. Mr. Kang, does this mean we’re now a soccer powerhouse?”

But when he heard the news of Son Jinho’s Ballon d’Or win, a fire ignited within him.

‘Let’s watch one last game for real.’

Thinking he wanted to watch a soccer match live for the first time in a while, he secretly applied for a day off without telling his wife. He waited silently until she fell into a deep sleep.

Today, his wife was unusually late to sleep, causing him to miss the first half entirely, but it was already too late to turn back.

He patiently waited until his wife was sound asleep.

“Are you asleep?”

Hearing her rhythmic, repetitive breathing, Kang Doohyun cautiously confirmed his wife was asleep.

“I’m going to watch some soccer.”

He opened the door and stepped into the living room, turning on the TV. Then he pulled out the leftover chicken from dinner and a hidden beer from the back of the fridge, leaning back on the sofa.

[Ah! The one-two pass worked perfectly! Charlie Adam hits the ground!]

What appeared before him was a fierce battle between Cristiano Ronaldo and Charlie Adam.

“…Did I switch channels by mistake?”

Kang Doohyun mumbled, his confusion evident in his voice.

[The referee hasn’t declared a foul! Ronaldo continues to advance!]

However, after a moment’s bewilderment, he quickly focused on the game.

[Ronaldo’s shot! Oh! A heroics save from Shawcross!]

It was an exciting match in every sense.

“That’s right, you have to turn your chin there!”

The game continued, and maybe he got too hyped?

“Ki-ah! That hook landed perfectly!”

“Honey, what are you doing right now?”

He inadvertently woke his sleeping wife.

“What are you doing at this hour? Aren’t you working tomorrow?”

“Uh… I took a day off.”

Kang Doohyun looked at his wife with a tense expression.

“Really? You should rest sometimes. But what are you watching? Is it a fighting match?”

“No, it’s soccer.”

His wife alternated between looking at the TV and her tense husband, then broke into a smile and continued speaking.

“Wow. So that dog-like expression earlier was because of soccer? Next time, just tell me if you want to watch. We can watch together.”

Kang Doohyun was momentarily touched by his wife’s words.

[Following South Korea’s king Son Jinho, even Ronaldo is in trouble! The Kingslayer has appeared at Britannia Stadium!]

Swish—

He shielded his wife’s eyes as Ronaldo delivered a swift kick to Charlie Adam’s groin.

[Oh! He hit it! Ronaldo!]

***

“I’ve come to end this peace!”

With the flair of someone who gave up an arm to a mere fish for style, Charlie Adam made his entrance.

As soon as he appeared, the ref’s once clear judgment began to waver, causing the game to heat up excessively.

“Is that area control!”

Compensation calls for rough tackles poured in, and with that, the match started turning into chaos.

The players no longer fixated on winning.

What focused their minds was a strong belief in taking down the opponent.

Now, dealing with the rival took precedence over the match’s outcome.

“Whoa, high injury risk, so no studs or elbows allowed.”

Is it just my imagination that referee Michael Oliver seems to be applying UFC rules?

I watched on as he tried to calm the players.

After getting ejected for last match against Stoke City and facing Ferguson’s wrath, I had become a rational being and didn’t meddle in the conflict between Ronaldo and Charlie Adam.

‘If I hadn’t just gotten a warning, I would’ve helped.’

The yellow card I received for a Hollywood act in the first half was still weighing me down.

Anyway, even in the absence of Robin van Persie and myself, Cristiano Ronaldo wasn’t backing down against Charlie Adam.

When times got rough in the match, his habit of biting his lip and raising his fist clearly helped.

‘Hmm. Is this training in daily life?’

Anyway, in a situation where Ronaldo was marking Charlie Adam closely.

“Virgil!”

Virgil van Dijk successfully blocked a Stoke City attack and quickly passed to me.

Stoke City rushed to reclaim the ball.

Surely, it’s called a man’s team. Each player’s physique was grand.

But soccer isn’t a sport played with muscles.

After seeing Glen Whelan charging at me, I timed my Marseille turn perfectly to evade the pressure.

Glen Whelan, having missed his mark, urgently turned his upper body and reached out his arm, but I slapped his hand away and dashed into the Stoke City territory.

“Son Jinho, now is the time, send me a pass!”

As I slipped the pressure, Ronaldo immediately called for the pass and dashed into the space behind.

Thud—

But his opponent was Charlie Adam, who was changing the game’s paradigm.

“Showing your back is a disgrace for a soccer player! Rookie!”

As Ronaldo turned his back, Charlie Adam’s thick forearm wrapped around Ronaldo’s neck.

“Guhhk—!”

When I saw Charlie Adam effectively choke Ronaldo, I couldn’t help but scream out the name of a technique.

“Subaki-sou—!!”

Cristiano Ronaldo stretched out both hands desperately for help, but caught up in the thrilling moment, I scrambled to announce the next technique.

“Sabokjangsong—!”

Just as I called out, Charlie Adam, sensing my voice, attempted to put more strength into his hold.

Thwack—

Cristiano Ronaldo had unleashed an unlawful technique not meant for a man.

He struck Charlie Adam right where it hurt with his heel.

Charlie Adam, struck in that area, fell forward without even letting out a dying groan.

“SIUUUUUUUU─!”

Over Charlie Adam, who clutched his groin as he fell, Ronaldo continued his teabagging.

“Ronaldo, you aren’t even a man!!!”

From the stands, jeers erupted toward Ronaldo, but the self-absorbed guy couldn’t care less.

“I saw nothing.”

As Michael Oliver, the referee, wore a face that said “whatever happens, happens.”

While the referee turned a blind eye to Charlie Adam and Ronaldo.

I had already made my way near the goal, swinging my right foot for a mid-range shot, successfully cutting through the net.

For reference, even while those two were fighting, the ball had been right beneath my feet.

Ronaldo and Charlie Adam were fighting while completely ignoring the ball.

Michael Oliver, who had let all minor details slide, pointed to the center circle, acknowledging my goal.

“Hooouuuuu─!”

I raced to the corner flag, celebrating my triumph.

***

The match between Manchester United and Stoke City was fierce in another sense.

After Son Jinho’s goal, Stoke City, having given up on victory, started playing roughly, determined to injure at least one of my players.

“Bloody Hell! Those bastards are injuring my players!”

An enraged Alex Ferguson, red-faced, unleashed fury at the linesman and got a warning.

In a situation where no one wanted to score, instead focusing on taking someone out.

The referee, sweating bullets, tried to calm the players, but those who had already passed a threshold began to see not the ball, but the men.

As the opposing player took possession of the ball, they charged in without hesitation, bodies colliding, and “accidentally” kicked out legs.

“Calm down the players, things can’t get rougher.”

Calling in the captain for a stern warning had no effect.

“Let’s take those bastards down.”

“If anyone finishes without a card after this game, I’ll call everyone out.”

Most players were carrying a yellow card, and pulling out another card would mean no players left for the match.

‘Five minutes… Just hold on for five minutes.’

Referee Michael Oliver fervently prayed for the game to end peacefully.

But, for some reason, with little time left, things got out of control, and Michael Oliver suddenly recalled Anthony Taylor being knocked down by a kick from Son Jinho.

‘Next time, no matter the reason, I won’t officiate a match between Stoke City and Manchester United.’

Just after Michael Oliver made that silent vow, a corner kick situation led to Ronaldo and Charlie Adam clashing.

Beeeeeeep─!

“Calm down!”

With the intent of a preschool teacher, Michael Oliver managed to soothe the players.

‘Crap, I should’ve sent both of them off from the start…’

He mentally cursed.

Thanks to the Stoke City fans cheering on rough fouls, a moment of confusion regarding decisions made the snowball start rolling.

Anyway, during the ensuing Manchester United corner kick situation.

The ball, heading for Virgil van Dijk’s head, but deflected off Begovic’s fingertips and escaped outside the goal line.

Referee Michael Oliver called for another corner kick.

“…?”

As I unknowingly dodged Michael Oliver while heading for the opposite corner flag to take the corner.

***

Feeling a bit wronged as the ref acted like he was avoiding me.

I bore no ill will toward him.

Despite the chaos introduced by Charlie Adam, hadn’t he maintained fair judgment until then?

I held no grudge against referee Michael Oliver.

‘Well, I didn’t actually get into a brawl with the Stoke City players either.’

Reaching the corner flag, I raised both arms signaling and promptly delivered the ball into the penalty box.

But perhaps due to a lack of power in the impact?

The ball, intended for the far post, headed toward Januzaj, standing at the near post.

At the moment Januzai was about to jump with perfectly timed coordination.

Thud—

“God….”

Cristiano Ronaldo, having struck Januzaj at the groin as he attempted to header in front of him, gracefully scored with a header.

“Siuuuuuu─!”

Ignoring Januzaj, who was writhing in pain in front of the Stoke City goal, he raced to the corner flag to celebrate.

“…Is he some kind of demon?”

I was left speechless, looking at Ronaldo celebrating with a bright smile.