"No! No, no, no! That's not a penalty! Damn it! That's not a penalty!" Materazzi went berserk, waving furiously at the referee.
But nothing could change the call.
The referee had seen it clearly—when Su Hang performed the Heel Flick Direction Change, he was already inside the box.
There was no controversy. It was a penalty, plain and simple.
And not just a penalty.
"Red card! The referee shows Materazzi a red card!"
"Oh! Inter Milan are down to ten men at the very end!"
"Materazzi had been Inter's best defender today—he even took Zidane out of the game! He was key to Inter's comeback!"
"But now, he's also the key to Real Madrid's reversal!"
"He's handed Real Madrid a crucial penalty!"
"If Real Madrid convert this, they'll overtake Inter Milan and advance to the Champions League semifinals!"
"Ronaldo is standing near the penalty spot."
"Huh? Su Hang is walking up to him!"
On the pitch, Su Hang locked eyes with Ronaldo, his tone firm. "Ronnie, I'll take this penalty."
Strangely, Ronaldo didn't feel even slightly offended.
He was only one goal away from a hat-trick, yet what mattered more than a hat-trick was victory.
He remembered Su Hang's words to the entire team: "If a teammate can do it, let him do it. But if he can't, I'll do it."
"If we ever get a penalty that decides the fate of this team, then I have to be the one to take it."
"Because that's my duty as the captain of Real Madrid."
The camera caught the moment—there was no tension, no argument.
Not even a flicker of annoyance crossed Ronaldo's face.
Instead, he walked over, pulled Su Hang into a hug, and ruffled his hair. "Go on then, my captain."
Ronaldo stepped out of the box.
Su Hang stood at the spot, eyes fixed on the ball, his focus narrowing to a single point.
Beep!
The whistle blew.
Su Hang began his run-up.
Eyes forward, body steady—he swung his leg and drove the shot toward the top-left corner.
César launched himself, perfectly timing his dive in what looked like the save of his career.
He knew every Real Madrid player's penalty tendencies.
A powerful strike to the left side—simple, not tricky, but blisteringly fast. That was how Su Hang had scored every penalty before.
If César didn't hesitate, he had at least a fifty-percent chance of stopping it.
But mid-air, as he looked toward Su Hang, something strange happened—he saw Zidane. The man who had been sent off long ago.
And then… the ball didn't fly where he expected.
Like a falling rainbow, it drifted into the net.
Down the middle.
A Panenka.
Goal!
In the next instant, Su Hang spread his arms and charged toward the corner flag.
Before the fans could even start cheering, he leaped high into the air—
spun 180 degrees mid-air, arms falling, crashing back down like a god descending to earth.
The Bernabéu exploded!
Eighty thousand voices roared as one:
"Siuuuuuu!"
The entire stadium shook.
The cameras trembled.
Even the commentators' voices were shaking.
"It's in! It's in! It's in!"
"Su Hang! Su Hang converts the penalty!"
"He went for a Panenka! A Panenka penalty!"
"Can you believe it? In the dying moments, with everything on the line, he had the nerve to chip it!"
"I'm a hundred percent sure Su Hang was paying tribute to Zidane!"
"The winner! The Real Madrid captain wins it! He's beaten Inter Milan!"
"Four–two! Real Madrid turn it around, leading five–four on aggregate!"
"Ronaldo, Raúl, Baptista, Carlos, Robinho, Ramos, Casillas, Simón—they're all rushing to Su Hang!"
"What an unbelievable match!"
The broadcast kept cutting between the players and the stands.
On the screen, Zidane's sister, wife, and children were all in tears.
Zidane had brought the team a defeat in the most Zidane-like way imaginable—
and Su Hang, in the most Zidane-like way imaginable, had turned that defeat into victory.
He had redeemed Zidane.
...
In the Real Madrid locker room, Zidane sat quietly on the bench, watching the replay of Su Hang's soaring leap.
Su Hang looked straight into the camera, as if saying to him: Every cause has its effect. Your redemption is me.
"You bastard… why is it always you?" Zidane muttered, half in disbelief, half in admiration. Sometimes, he wondered if Su Hang had some kind of cheat code for life.
But then he laughed. Maybe others thought the same about him once.
In truth, there were no cheat codes in this world. Only those who refuse to yield to fate.
"Su… thank you."
...
After Real Madrid's celebrations, Inter Milan made one final attempt.
Midfielder David Pizarro replaced defender Córdoba.
In the 91st minute, Pizarro threaded a perfect through ball.
Adriano burst forward, one-on-one with the keeper.
But a year of wild partying hadn't broken his skill—it had broken his stamina.
He couldn't accelerate. Sergio Ramos caught up and made the tackle.
Adriano went down with cramps, wasting another thirty seconds.
In the 95th minute, Roberto Carlos sent the ball down the left flank.
Robinho was off again!
A substitute with speed, flair, and confidence—and with the team in front, he was unstoppable.
Ask him to chase a deficit, and he might crumble under pressure. But when the wind's at his back, no Brazilian finishes a game better.
Robinho burst past Zanetti and whipped in a cross.
Zanetti's sliding tackle came a heartbeat too late—the ball was already away.
Inside the box, Ronaldo surged toward the near post and met it with a header.
The Bernabéu roared again.
"Goal! A hat-trick! The all-conquering alien is back!"
"Robinho assists Ronaldo for another Real Madrid goal!"
"Ronaldo has sealed the match!"
"Five–two at the Bernabéu! Real Madrid win six–four on aggregate!"
"Congratulations, Real Madrid! They're back in the Champions League semifinals!"
"Oh! Yellow card for Zanetti! Two yellows make a red—he's sent off!"
"Inter Milan's players don't even protest. It's over—completely over!"
"The Galácticos have broken free from their black hole of stars and are charging toward the Champions League!"
Moments later, the referee blew the final whistle.
After losing the first leg, Real Madrid completed a dramatic comeback to knock out Inter Milan and reach the semifinals.
Ronaldo, with his hat-trick, and Su Hang, with two goals and an assist, shared the highest rating and were named joint Men of the Match.
When they arrived for post-match interviews, the reporters were so thrilled it felt like they were speaking to heroes who had just saved the world.
...
(35 Chapters Ahead)
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