Halftime. The away team's locker room.
Bang!
A metal box filled with footballs and spare boots crashed onto the floor.
Then even a metal locker toppled over, and a loud crash echoed through the room.
It was Ibrahimović's rampage.
"Son of a bitch!"
He wanted to spit in Guardiola's face, who was staring at him with a pathetic look.
He could not hold it in anymore.
Guardiola spoke as if in disbelief.
"You're making a mistake. Think about what your actions will lead to before you act."
"You should do more thinking yourself. Ever since you lost to Mourinho's Inter, your head's completely messed up. You know that?"
"I have nothing to say to that."
"It's not that you have nothing to say. You just can't say it. You're not even a man. You're just a coward. Go fall straight into hell."
"Hah."
Guardiola felt anger surge up as well, but he quickly regained his composure and took a step back.
With a giant nearly two meters tall pressing him like this, it was only natural.
Ibrahimović looked as if he might resort to violence at any moment.
But he stopped there, left the locker room, and headed for the restroom.
Silence fell over the room.
Several players who normally could not even speak up in front of Guardiola simply watched the manager's reaction, while captain Carles Puyol was busy trying to calm the situation.
Perhaps this had been inevitable since last year, when Ibrahimović joined Barcelona.
At the start of the season.
When Ibrahimović was deployed as the central striker, everything was fine.
But after Messi requested a meeting with Guardiola, saying, "I want to aim for more goals," everything changed.
That was why Ibrahimović, who suited the center, was pushed out to the wing.
In truth, Guardiola had been stubborn from a tactical standpoint.
It was also true that he favored Messi.
Moreover, the club was already revolving around Messi.
From Ibrahimović's perspective, it was only natural to be dissatisfied.
As Xavi and Iniesta increasingly funneled passes toward Messi, Ibrahimović's goal output gradually dropped, his form declined, and the rift between them deepened.
And today, it finally exploded.
If the team's results had been better, perhaps they could have endured.
But that no longer meant anything.
It's over.
Guardiola silently picked up the scattered metal box, lost in thought.
After a brief moment, he felt certain.
This was the end of the road.
Meanwhile, in the home team's locker room, loud cheers rang out.
"Yeeeeeees!"
"Siuuuuuuu!"
Ronaldo and his teammates shouted the Portuguese word for "Yeah!" and with Ho-young's celebration added to it, the locker room atmosphere soared endlessly.
If they won today, the title would be almost secured.
Their remaining opponents were Almería, Valencia, Zaragoza, Osasuna, Mallorca, Athletic, and Málaga. In La Liga, aside from Barcelona, none of them posed a serious threat.
"If things go well, we might even go for the double this season."
"The double sounds good."
"Heh heh heh."
As the players laughed, chatted, and danced, Ho-young returned to the corner.
It was Marcelo's seat, and he was smiling brightly.
"By the way, is the back of your head okay? It looked like Ibrahimović hit you pretty hard earlier."
"I'm fine. It's throbbing a bit, but I'm satisfied since he got sent off."
Marcelo, five years older than Ho-young, pulled him into a light hug and said,
"Be careful. Who knows what those guys might try today."
"Yeah."
Ho-young understood perfectly.
Just as Marcelo said, this was when they needed to be most cautious.
Barcelona were almost certain to lose.
With their minds shaken, there was no telling what they might do.
In their current state, there was a high chance they would come in with reckless, career-ending tackles.
Just then.
"Everyone, listen up."
Scolari entered, instantly calming the noisy atmosphere.
It was time to swallow the laughter and get serious.
He spoke firmly.
"They're down to ten men and it's 2-0. But we cannot lose focus until the end. The most important thing here is avoiding injuries. Our goal is the title, and we still have the massive wall of the Champions League ahead. I trust you all know what to do without me saying more."
"Yes, coach."
It was not time to relax yet.
A cornered rat will bite the cat.
The remaining 45 minutes.
The match would continue.
The second half flowed on without any unusual incidents.
There were no surprises.
With Ibrahimović gone, Marcelo had more freedom and tucked into central defense, joining Pepe and Gago to man-mark Messi, while Ho-young dropped into midfield to press aggressively alongside Xabi Alonso.
"Barcelona are pushing fiercely, but they're struggling against Real Madrid's layered defensive lines. Wasting this much energy early in the second half means they're throwing everything into this moment."
"Lionel Messi again. He cuts inside and glances toward the left."
"Thierry Henry is making a run."
Everyone expected a pass, but Messi attempted a breakthrough on the right.
It was a decision only Messi could make.
"Lionel Messi. He lays it back to Xavi and darts forward again."
"A quick one-two pass."
"He slips away from Fernando Gago's shadow. Now he drives to the right. Marcelo steps in, but… ah, he squeezes through the gap!"
As expected.
No matter how much the team was in crisis, Messi was still Messi.
Especially with Xavi and Iniesta around him, he feared nothing and kept running.
He neutralized the tackles and shoulder challenges flying in from all sides with phantom dribbles, then burst into the penalty area in an instant.
The agility from his small frame made the crowd roar without thinking.
"Lionel Messi. How far will he go? He beats Pepe as well."
"Messi, Messi, ancora Messi, ancora Messi, ancora…"
The shot was about to come.
Thud!
"A tackle from Ho-young!"
At a crucial moment.
Ho-young sprinted back and poked the ball away from behind by the slimmest margin.
The loose ball was safely gathered by Casillas.
"Damn it!"
Unable to hold back, Messi threw off his headband and sank to the ground.
His burning gaze seemed ready to pierce through the back of Ho-young's head.
Crazy bastard.
It was truly frustrating and strange.
How could a player like that even exist?
Messi thought so.
He remembered the first time he saw him at the Beijing Olympics.
It had only been two years.
During that time, Messi had made remarkable progress.
But Ho-young had surpassed that level, developing dramatically in every aspect.
It was unbelievable.
Was Messi not the one praised as unmatched in genius and potential?
It was infuriating.
It felt as if everything he had enjoyed, and everything he was meant to enjoy in the future, had been taken away.
And he no longer felt confident.
He was simply afraid of how far that player might go.
At that moment, Ho-young clenched his fist and welcomed good news.
[In 37 days, you will acquire Tarzan's Surprise Shot Block (SU).]
Following Vieira and Cannavaro, this was his third defensive talent.
Now I'm confident in defense too.
He had climbed even higher.
At this point, it would not be an exaggeration to say he had acquired almost all the talents worth taking in Spain.
He truly coveted Xavi's passing ability and Iniesta's press resistance, but he had to let go of that greed for now.
Winning the Champions League with Barcelona is an unattainable condition.
Unless he belonged to Barcelona, those talents were out of reach.
But for Ho-young, already a Madridista, becoming a Culé was unimaginable.
Unless the conditions suddenly changed, it would be difficult.
Still, there was no need to be discouraged.
I can replace them.
When he had more freedom later, he could seek out former players whose abilities matched Xavi and Iniesta and acquire L-grade talents.
Through that, he would climb even higher.
Surpassing human limits and achieving everything a footballer could accomplish was his ultimate goal.
Winning the Champions League and the Ballon d'Or.
Those were the first steps.
I can do it.
His heart swelled.
It felt like anything was possible.
And there was plenty of time.
So Ho-young kept running.
Living up to his nickname as Barcelona's killer, he aimed for another hat-trick today.
"The fourth El Clásico since Guardiola took charge is heading toward the 60th minute."
"Pep Guardiola is sitting on the bench with a face that looks like he's given up on everything."
"That's understandable. For him, it feels like he's crossed a bridge he cannot return from. Once this match ends, he will have endless explanations to make about what happened today."
The momentum had completely shifted.
Barcelona's organization had collapsed, leaving them in ruins.
If not for Iniesta and Xavi holding firm in midfield, Real Madrid's possession might have reached 90 percent.
To make matters worse, Barcelona's stamina was fading as time passed.
It would not be an exaggeration to say this was their worst performance of the season.
Real Madrid did not let the opportunity slip.
Around the 70th minute of the second half, Ronaldo latched onto a long pass threaded into the box from deep and fired a sharp shot.
Net ripples.
"Gooooal! Real Madrid's killer blow! Cristiano Ronaldo scores his 40th goal of the season!"
"Incredible. That's 40 goals this season and 27 in the league alone. He's now just two behind Lionel Messi."
Real Madrid's decisive goal.
Even so, Guardiola remained seated on the bench with the same expression.
Normally he would be shouting instructions, but now he had neither the strength nor the will.
He simply prayed for this nightmare to end quickly.
But it did not stop there.
Net ripples.
"Gooooal! Substitute Karim Benzema converts the rebound!"
"And before that, Arjen Robben's curling shot was a work of art. Truly the master of the left-footed curler that everyone knows is coming but still cannot stop."
5-0.
The away section was filled with gloom.
Even the scattered cheers from moments ago had fallen silent.
Then Ho-young dropped the bomb.
"Ho-young attempts a sudden breakthrough."
"Ho-young, Ho-young, he cuts inside once. Right-footed shoooot!"
"Gooooal! Hat-trick! Ho-young completes his hat-trick! Once again, he records a hat-trick in El Clásico!"
"A fantastic burst of pace. Puyol and Piqué tried to close him down, but they simply could not catch him. To stop that speed, you need to react at least two steps earlier."
"Hoo!"
The climax.
With another hat-trick, Ho-young proved once again that he thrived in big matches.
The victory was a bonus.
Final whistle.
"6-0. Real Madrid claim a massive victory in El Clásico. It must be the perfect day for the Madrid fans."
"Without a doubt. Real Madrid now move ten points clear of Barcelona. The title is practically secured."
Barcelona's 6-0 defeat.
It shocked hundreds of millions of football fans around the world.
But the next day.
An even more shocking headline dominated the media.
"Breaking News: Pep Guardiola Announces Immediate Resignation at Emergency Press Conference"
(To be continued.)