When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 78 "Kaishaku!" He mentally beheaded the entire Japanese football team.
In the 28th minute, Japan executed an excellent combination play.

Morita Minoru's voice cracked and he nearly lost it: "Gentlemen—!!! Did you see Nakata-sama's pass?! That through ball was measured with a ruler! France's ironclad defense has been sliced ​​into sashimi!"

Hidetoshi Nakata shook off Dakur's marking in the center circle and chipped a low through ball with the outside of his right foot!

The ball passed precisely through the gap between Gallas and Boumsong.

The ball speed was almost perfectly controlled for receiving the ball.

"Okubo! Okubo! That feint! Boumsong fell like a pine tree struck by lightning! One-on-one! One-on-one! This is the perfect opportunity to pierce the heart of the Gauls! Shoot—!!!"

Okubo suddenly made a reverse run to shake off his defender.

He feigned a powerful shot the moment he received the ball.

He deftly changed direction with a flick of the ball before Boumsong's flying tackle, feinting a shot and then actually flicking it to knock Boumsong down.

Okubo gets a one-on-one opportunity.

Barthez rushed out of his goal to the edge of the six-yard box.

Okubo chose to shoot low into the near corner!

Barthez fell to the ground and blocked the ball with his left toe.

"Aaaaaaah!!! Barthez, that demon! He used his toe! He fucking ruined our sure goal with his toe!"

The aftermath is still ongoing!

Naohiro Takahara cuts into the penalty area and taps in the empty net!

Silvestre, who was chasing back, cleared the ball off the goal line, and it bounced off the crossbar.

"The beam! Damn beam! Amaterasu Omikami! Why do you test your people like this?!"

Kitazawa slammed his tactical board on the table: "A fatal misjudgment! Okubo should have opted for a chip shot! Barthez's center of gravity was already completely forward when he came out!"

"Look at this angle! A chip shot into the far corner would have had a much higher chance of scoring! But he chose the most difficult shot – a low shot into the near corner!"

With a sob in his voice, Morita concluded, "Gentlemen, this is football... its sweetest torment."

"But remember! Creating such an opportunity proves that the Yamato spirit has pierced the throat of the Gallic giant! Next time... next time we will surely draw blood!"

(At this point, the viewership ratings soared to a peak of 28.3% at the start of the season.)

At this moment, in a Shinjuku izakaya in Tokyo.

Tanaka, a 40-year-old office worker, slammed his fist on the table, his beer glass rattling loudly: "Baka yarou! Okubo, that idiot!"

The izakaya fell silent for a moment, then erupted in a chorus of curses.

The proprietress hurriedly turned off the live TV, only to find all the customers staring at her with red eyes, so she had no choice but to turn it back on tremblingly.

Hiroshima - French restaurant.

Chef Ono spilled a spoonful of foie gras that was being cooked.

"クソ(Damn)!"

He kicked the refrigerator hard, only to find his French boss standing right behind him.

The two stared at each other in silence for three seconds, then the boss suddenly patted him on the shoulder: "Next time... try a chip shot?"

Laughter erupted in the kitchen.

Yokohama Chinatown.

Looking at the Japanese diners who had suddenly frozen in place, Wang Sang, the owner of the Chinese restaurant "Longmen," silently turned off the television that was replaying a slow-motion scene.

The next second, he was surrounded by dozens of customers: "Play it again!", "Please!", "We'll pay more!"

Wang Sang smiled wryly: "These Japanese are even crazier than we are when we watch the Chinese national football team."

[Data Statistics]

France had 8 attacks: 5 shots / 3 shots on target / 1 goal.

Japan launched three counter-attacks: two shots and one shot on target.

Roy's individual stats: 2 dribbles / 3 shots / 2 shots on target / 1 goal.

Narasaki Seigo: 4 saves.

Morita concluded, "Gentlemen! This is merely the calm before the storm!"

Kitazawa: "France had 65% possession, but our counter-attacks were more lethal!!! We had a real chance to equalize!!!"

Tokyo - Shinjuku Izakaya.

"boom!"

Tanaka slammed his fist on the table again, splashing beer foam onto his colleague's face.

"Gentlemen! That French devil is back! Roy receives the ball and turns—"

The commentator's screams on TV made the entire izakaya freeze instantly.

"Look at that move!"

Japanese center-back Keisuke Tsuboi lunged forward.

After receiving the ball, Roy flicked it with his right foot, subtly changing direction. The ball seemed glued to his foot, tracing a small arc as it dodged Keisuke Tsuboi's tackle.

Completely fooled, Tsuboi slipped and fell to his knees. His right hand instinctively reached for Roy's jersey, but he only managed to grab a wisp of air.

"Aaaaaah, I'm doomed!!!"

Tsuboi's face was contorted in a rage, veins bulging on his forehead, and his lips trembled as he silently uttered, "Kuso!" (Damn it!)
The office workers in the izakaya groaned in unison.

"No! Another one has been passed!"

Endo Yasuhiro lowered his center of gravity, spreading his arms like a sumo wrestler, attempting to use his body to block Roy's advance.

Roy suddenly flicked the ball with his left foot, and it went precisely through Endo's legs! Endo instinctively tried to clamp his legs together, but it was too late. He staggered and almost tripped over himself as he turned around.

Endo's eyes widened like copper bells, and his cheeks turned a deep liver color.

"Stop him! Endo-kun!!!"

Desperate cries erupted from the izakaya.

"The last line of defense! The last hope!"

Miyamoto Tsuneyasu lowered his center of gravity and retreated in small steps as if facing a formidable enemy, trying to anticipate Roy's movements.

Roy suddenly sprang up and then abruptly stopped. Miyamoto's knees buckled, and he could no longer keep up. He froze on the spot as if he were rusting.

As Roy walked past him.

Miyamoto attempted to throw himself out and tackle to intercept the attack, but Roy easily jumped over him, sliding off the field and crashing into an advertising board.

He lay on the ground and frantically pounded the grass, leaving five claw marks on it.

"three times--!!!"

Tanaka broke the chopsticks in two.

Hiroshima - French restaurant.

"Damn it! Damn it!"

The chef's spoon sank deep into the cutting board. The commentator's voice cracked on the television.

"A forbidden feint!" Roy swayed his shoulder to the left, but his right foot flicked the ball to the right.

"Those eyes! They're like the eyes of a demon!"

The French owner suddenly pressed down on the chef's trembling hand: "Calm down. He hasn't ejaculated yet."

Before the words were even finished, the commentator's scream rang out on the television:
"Do not--!"

Roy gave a strange flick of his right ankle, and the ball flew straight into the near corner.

"Putain!!!ROI!!!"

Yokohama Chinatown.

"Aaaaaah! No way! I don't want this to happen!"

Wang Sang's diners almost smashed the television.

When you see the close-up of Narasaki Seigo's fingertips just millimeters away from the ball when he makes a save.

After landing, remain sprawled out in a "T" shape for 5 seconds.

"puff!"

Wang Sang's Longjing tea sprayed onto the screen:

"Awesome!!!" Wang Sang suddenly slammed his hand on the table and stood up, startling the entire restaurant.

Miyamoto Tsuneyasu knelt on the edge of the penalty area and slammed his fist into the grass.

Hidetoshi Nakata put his hands behind his head and touched his red hair.

Narasaki Seigo remained in his save position, his fingertips still trembling, as if he could still feel the heat of the ball as it brushed past him.

Ono Shinji, sitting on the bench, covered his head with a towel, and his teammates could see obvious twitching under the towel.

Keisuke Tsuboi and Junichi Inamoto grabbed each other by the collar and started arguing.

Why the hell didn't you cover for me?!

"I'm keeping an eye on Ge Wu, you bastard!"

When the ball pierced the Japanese net for the second time, the entire Giscard d'Or stadium erupted in madness.

French commentator Thierry Rolland loosened his tie in the commentary box and yelled into the microphone:
"ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOI!!! So beautiful! So amazing! This is French football! That shot! That perfect curve! The ball went into the corner of the net as if kissed by God! The Giccial Stadium is trembling! France is boiling! 18-year-old Roy is writing a new generation's legend!"

Thierry Rolland took a deep breath and quickened his pace:
Roy charged toward the corner flag, then suddenly stopped, turned around, and spread his arms like an emperor reigning supreme.

He pointed with his right hand to the tricolor flag waving wildly in the stands, and repeatedly made the "2" gesture with his left hand.

"Look at his celebration! Charging towards the corner flag—sudden stop! Turn around! Spread your arms! That's the posture of an emperor! Right hand points to the stands, a sea of ​​tricolor flags. Left hand makes a '2' sign—two goals! Two humiliations! Two heavy blows shattered the Japanese samurai dream!"

Govou jumped onto Roy's back, nearly tearing his jersey.

The Lyon striker made a "shut up" gesture towards the Japanese fans in the stands.

"Govou jumped up! He clung to Roy's back like a koala! Look what this Lyon kid is doing? He's making a 'shut up' gesture to the Japanese fans in the stands! (Laughs) So arrogant! But I love this kind of arrogance!"

Pires stood gracefully in the center circle, hands on his hips, giving Henry a helpless smile on the bench.

Roland's tone shifted to a playful one:

“Pires? Oh, our old artist just stood in the center circle with his hands on his hips, shrugged at Henry on the bench—'Hey Thierry, times have changed!'”

Barthez sprinted from the penalty area all the way to midfield, his bald head gleaming in the sunlight.

On the stands, waves of tricolor flags rolled from the south stand all the way to the north stand.

Roland lowered his voice, creating suspense:
"Did you hear that?"

The fans, standing on their seats and shoulder to shoulder, sang a modified version of "La Marseillaise":
"Allons enfants de la Patrie ~ Le jour de Roi est arrivé!" (Children of the Patrie, the day of Roi has arrived!)

Thirty thousand French fans stood shoulder to shoulder, stepping on the seats, turning the Giccial Stadium into a boiling furnace!
Roy's name burned brightly amidst the clamor!
The president of the French Football Federation jumped up from the VIP box when Roy scored the second goal, not even noticing a button popping off his suit jacket.

He raised his arms high and shouted towards the direction of the field:

"This is France!"

When Japanese Football Association officials forced smiles and stepped forward to shake hands and congratulate him, Simeone raised his eyebrows slightly and responded modestly:

"Merci mais en France, des jeunes commea, on en a plein."

("Thank you. But in France, we have many young people like this.")
He deliberately dragged out the last syllable of his sentence, casually adjusting his tie with his right hand, while his gaze drifted toward Roy, who was celebrating on the sidelines.

It was as if they were admiring a piece of art that had just been acquired at auction.

Thierry Rolland delivers the ultimate taunt:

"And what about the Japanese?"
Their "Yamato spirit" banner lay limp on the ground, and the fans looked like cows struck by lightning—some wept, others stood frozen in shock.

The tone instantly became excited, teasing:
"But the most exciting part is—that Japanese girl who was just waving the Rising Sun Flag is now frantically snapping photos of Roy's celebration! (Laughter) Football is the cruelest art of conquest!"

His tone was as solemn as a declaration of war:

"Remember this day! June 20, 2003!"

"Under the moonlight of Saint-Étienne, an 18-year-old boy proclaimed with his feet: France's golden age is far from over!"

Then suddenly playful:
"By the way, if the lockers in the visiting team's locker room could talk, they'd be screaming for help right now! I heard their tourists are wreaking havoc all over the world!"

45+1 minutes of the match.

France staged a brilliant team performance reminiscent of the French Death Waltz.

Gallas suddenly started! This bald, tough player dribbled five meters forward, and Naohiro Takahara made a token attempt to intercept!
Japanese commentator Mitsuo Morita cried out:
"Where's the defense?! Are our forwards dancing ballet?! Mr. Gao! This isn't a kabuki performance! This is the European Championship-winning French team!!"

Dakur calmly received the ball, executed a powerful rhinoceros turn, and passed it out while engaging in physical confrontation, avoiding Hidetoshi Nakata's tackle!
Hidetoshi Nakata was knocked off balance.

French commentator Thierry Rolland passionately shouted:
"Look at that turn! Powerful! Violent! Dakur is like a knight in armor, and Nakata Hidetoshi is scraping the ground with his knees!"

The moment Pires received the ball, Koji Nakata pounced on him like a hungry tiger! But the French magician simply lifted his right foot, executed a classic Cruyff turn, and got past Koji Nakata!
Japanese commentator Kitazawa Go screamed in despair:
"Koji Nakata! Where's your defense?! Did Pires eat your soul?!"

Pires flicked the ball with the outside of his left foot, sending it flying in a bizarre arc towards Rothen! Endo Yasuhiro desperately stretched out his leg to intercept!
Rothen calmly pulled the ball back, turned, and passed it back to Silvestre.

Santos's reckless pressing allowed Silvestre to easily pass the ball diagonally to Sagnol, completely collapsing Japan's left-wing defense!

Zico crossed his arms.

Sagnol makes a diagonal pass down the right flank, and Roy receives the ball in the flank! Miyamoto Tsuneyasu retreats three meters as if facing a formidable enemy, his defensive posture resembling that of someone worshipping a deity!

Japanese commentator Mitsuo Morita’s voice trembled:
"Lord Miyamoto, why are you retreating?! Move forward and block them! Where is your samurai spirit?!"

Roy's right ankle jerked strangely, a fake shot followed by a real pass!

The ball, like a venomous snake, passed between Keisuke Tsuboi's legs and precisely found Gowu who had made a run into the box!
Japanese commentators collectively cracked their voices:

"Crotch puncture! Again, crotch puncture! Keisuke Tsuboi! You should commit seppuku!!"

Govou's expression contorted as he adjusted his footwork. Just as he was about to shoot into the far corner, his ankle stiffened and he was grazed by the Japanese goalkeeper, causing the ball to slide past the goal!

Roland held his head and lamented:
"Oh—! Henry could have scored ten of those goals! Govou, you have to treat the whole team to a Michelin three-star meal tonight as an apology!"

The Japanese commentator's voice trembled with tears:

"Amaterasu Omikami! This is divine forgiveness!!!"

Roy walked over and patted Govou on the back to indicate that there was nothing wrong.

Narasaki Masato climbed from the goal line to the goalpost and kissed it affectionately, as if it were a pillar of the Yasukuni Shrine.

French fans in the stands collectively facepalmed, while Japanese fans slumped in their seats like Noh masks whose souls had been ripped out.

France was awarded a corner kick in the final moments of first-half stoppage time.

Pires stood at the corner flag, took a deep breath, and locked his gaze on the penalty area like a hawk.

Pires takes the corner kick!
The ball arced in a deadly arc, flying straight into the six-yard box!

Gallas charged forward like a bull, his bald head gleaming fiercely in the sunlight!

Narasaki Seigo leaped and parried the ball with one hand, but the save wasn't far enough.

Roy appeared like a ghost!

Caught between Keisuke Tsuboi and Tsuneyasu Miyamoto, he took a half-step ahead and planted his right foot in mid-air!
The ball darted into the net like a bullet, and Narasaki Seigo didn't even have time to fall to the ground!

Human joys and sorrows are reflected in the madness and breakdown of the commentators.

French commentator Thierry Rolland cracked his voice and lost it:
"ROOOOOOOOOI!!! Hat-trick! Second hat-trick in his national team career! The Giccial Stadium is trembling! France is burning! The Japanese Bushido? Nailed to the pillar of shame by Roy's three goals!"

Japanese commentator Minoru Morita's voice was hoarse, almost choked with emotion:

"Gentlemen, it's over. 3-0. Our defense was like a paper castle. Roy, that devil..."

Kitazawa slammed his fist on the table in disappointment: "Why isn't anyone watching him?! Why?!"

French fans went absolutely wild!

The tricolor flags in the stands surged like a tsunami, fireworks lit up the sky, and smoke engulfed half the stadium.

Middle-aged office workers silently turned off the TV, while high school students threw their support flags into the trash can.

The original "Yamato Spirit" flag-bearer girl no longer cared about being infatuated and collapsed to the ground, the banner covered with footprints by the distraught fans who were running around in a panic.

Inside an izakaya in Shinjuku, Tokyo, Tanaka punches the table, and the proprietress turns off the live stream in tears.

After Roy scored the third goal, he walked slowly toward the corner flag, his eyes like the Siberian permafrost where potatoes are buried at minus thirty degrees Celsius.

He raised his right arm high and held his left arm loosely, remaining still for three seconds in the perfect "kaishaku" posture—the ritual action performed by a bystander when a Japanese samurai commits seppuku.

In the void, it seemed as if Yukio Mishima, who committed seppuku in 1970—the extreme nationalist who advocated the revival of Bushido—was kneeling.

Ziconu, exasperated, cursed in Portuguese: "Caralho! Esse garotoé o diabo!" (Damn it! This boy is a devil!)

The whole place was dead silent.

French commentator Roland lowered his voice:

"What is he doing? His movements are as graceful as playing golf."

Japanese commentator Minoru Morita suddenly lost his voice:
"Gentlemen, this second has spiritually decapitated the entire Japanese football team."

Just a heads up! Starting tomorrow, updates will be fixed before midnight, which aligns better with my schedule, and the word count should be able to return to 10,000 words per day!
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(End of this chapter)