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Five days had passed since the Siena match, but there was no time to relax. The win had lifted Virtus Lombardia out of the bottom spot, yet the table was still tight — one loss could drag them right back into danger. Their next opponent, Crema FC, sat just above them.
At training, Coach Rossi's mood was serious. He didn't raise his voice, but his tone carried weight.
"This one decides our direction," he said, scanning the squad. "Win, and we climb. Lose, and we fight for our lives again."
The message was clear.
Jaeven listened quietly, his expression calm but his pulse alive with anticipation. He'd been sharper since Siena. His new techniques — the Marseille Turn, the Rising Shot, the sudden acceleration — all felt natural now. Still, he held back during training. He didn't want to burn out too early. This time, he wanted control.
When Saturday came, the stadium lights flickered on against a cloudy sky. The crowd wasn't huge, but the tension was thick. Both sets of fans knew what was at stake.
The referee's whistle cut the air.
Crema started strong, pressing high, their midfield compact. Virtus stayed disciplined, absorbing pressure and waiting for their chance. In the opening minutes, Jaeven played smart — keeping it simple, focusing on quick passes and movement. He could feel the eyes on him, fans whispering whenever he touched the ball.
Ten minutes in, he received a long pass on the left, trapped it neatly, and slipped past the first defender with a feint. He didn't force the shot — he cut back, laying it to Matteo, who tested the keeper with a low drive. The save was good, but it was a warning.
The commentator's voice rose above the noise:
"Virtus Lombardia look more composed this week — and Han, once again, looks like the spark they rely on."
Crema responded fast. In the 22nd minute, their striker latched onto a loose ball and unleashed a curling shot that kissed the post before going wide. The home fans gasped in unison.
"Close call for Virtus! They can't afford to lose focus now."
Rossi barked orders from the sideline, urging his players to push higher.
Then came the breakthrough.
In the 34th minute, Virtus built up from the back. Matteo threaded a perfect pass through midfield, and Jaeven timed his run to perfection. He cut inside, leaving the full-back chasing shadows, before striking low and hard with his left foot.
The net rippled.
The stadium erupted.
"GOAAAAAL! Jaeven Han does it again! That calm precision — unstoppable!"
Jaeven didn't celebrate wildly; he simply raised a fist, glancing up at the fans chanting his name. The roar carried through the cold evening air.
But just before halftime, disaster struck. Crema earned a free kick on the edge of the box. The delivery was perfect — a looping cross met by a powerful header that left Virtus's goalkeeper rooted.
1–1.
The whistle blew for halftime.
The locker room was silent except for the sound of boots scraping on the floor. Sweat dripped, breaths came heavy. Rossi looked around slowly. "You've worked too hard to throw this away now," he said. "We stay patient. Defend with heart. Attack with belief."
Jaeven looked down at his boots, flexing his fingers. He could feel it — the match still had a moment waiting for him.
The second half began like a storm. Both teams attacked with reckless energy. Chances came and went — Crema's striker hit the post again, Virtus's captain cleared a ball off the line, and Jaeven himself made a crucial interception deep in defense, sprinting forty yards to block a counterattack.
The commentator's voice was breathless now.
"It's end-to-end football! Both sides refusing to give in!"
Every tackle drew cheers. Every clearance felt like a victory. The minutes ticked by. 70, 75, 80. Players were exhausted, some barely standing straight.
Then, in the dying minutes, Virtus finally broke through.
A long clearance from the keeper dropped near midfield, where Matteo battled for it and won. He flicked it ahead to Jaeven, who controlled it smoothly and surged up the left wing.
The crowd rose again — everyone knew this could be it.
"Han on the move! Look at that speed!"
Jaeven carried the ball forward, heart hammering. A defender closed in. He shifted his weight, feinted right, and drove left, gliding past him. Another defender approached, blocking the central lane.
He saw the striker — the same one who'd missed the penalty in the last match — making a run beside him.
Everyone expected the pass. Even Crema's defenders.
Jaeven slowed slightly near the box and angled his body as if to pass. The defenders bit. They lunged toward the striker — and that's when Jaeven's foot rolled over the ball.
A sudden Marseille Turn.
Gasps from the stands.
The move spun him past both defenders in a blur. He was through.
He took one last touch and unleashed it — the Rising Shot, clean and explosive. The ball curved upward, then dipped violently, crashing into the top corner of the net.
The crowd went insane.
"GOOOOOOOOOAAAAALLLL!!! JAEVEN HAN WITH AN ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE!"
Fans leapt to their feet, screaming his name. "Han! Han! Han!" The commentator's voice shook with excitement.
"He faked the pass, spun two defenders, and launched an unstoppable Rising Shot! What a goal! What a player!"
Matteo sprinted to him, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "You tricked them all!"
Jaeven laughed breathlessly. "That's what happens when you never stop believing."
The final whistle came minutes later.
Virtus Lombardia 2, Crema FC 1.
The players collapsed to their knees, some shouting, some crying. The fans sang louder than ever. Coach Rossi just smiled, shaking his head as if he'd seen something unbelievable yet inevitable.
Jaeven walked toward the stands, waving to the fans chanting his name. The noise washed over him like a wave. He closed his eyes briefly, letting it sink in.
He'd promised himself after the draw that he'd never hesitate again.
And tonight, he'd proved it.
No more doubts. No more second-guessing.
He was becoming the player he was meant to be.
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