When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 59 The Demon King Belongs to Us (Second Update)

The 29th minute of the game.

Monaco's corner kick was headed out of the penalty area by Pochettino. De Hue controlled the ball with his knee and passed it to Leroy. As De Hue turned, he deliberately let the ball slip between Bernardi's legs. It was a beautiful "tunnel trap"!
Ronaldinho immediately received the ball, accelerated, and unleashed his magic.

The moment Ronaldinho received the ball on the left wing, Monaco's right-back Elfakiri had already pounced on him.

The Brazilian player flicked the ball with his left foot and then gently tapped it with the outside of his right foot. The ball seemed to have been magically passed through the only gap (about 15 centimeters) between Elfaqiri and the sideline!
When Ronaldinho tore apart Monaco's defense with the outside of his foot, the entire audience at the Parc des Princes held their breath. Suddenly, the blue and red smoke bombs in the Auteuil stand exploded, and the entire stand was like a powder keg that had been lit—30,000 people roared in unison, in sync with the drumbeats and stomping of the crowd.

"Allez Paris!!"

Bang, bang!

"Allez Paris!!"

Bang, bang!

Ronaldinho sprinted along the sideline, his figure resembling a fierce leopard, forcing Squillaci to move to the wing to cover.

Fiore suddenly cut diagonally down the middle and took down Rodriguez.

Lyle made a ghostly run from the far post, and Max, who is usually a solid defender, was out of position this time.

Ronaldinho made a sudden stop after reaching the byline and flicked the ball back with his heel to Paris midfielder Leer.

Lyle met the ball and fired a shot that passed through Roma's fingertips and slammed into the inside of the far post!

The entire goal was vibrating and humming so loudly that Roma even turned around to look at the goal frame to see if it was cracked.

Commentator Dubois roared:
"The Samba magician has torn apart the red and white defense! Lyle was just 2 centimeters away from igniting the fuse and causing the cheers at the Parc des Princes to explode—look at the pale faces of the Monaco players, they just had a brush with death! At this moment, the entire Parc des Princes only cares about one thing: how many more miracles can that curly-haired magician pull off?"

(Slow-motion replays show that Ronaldinho glanced at Fiorese's position before crossing the ball, but ultimately chose to trust the onrushing Lyle – this counterintuitive decision is what makes him so terrifying.)
At this moment, two guests from Catalonia were sitting in the VIP box at the Parc des Princes stadium.

They came from the same club, but they weren't sitting in the same box.

Following Barcelona's disastrous performance this season, Van Gaal was sacked in the winter, and former Barcelona president Joan Gaspart resigned in February.

The current president, Enrique Reina, is merely an interim president during the transition period and has never been involved in any major club decisions.

The Barcelona presidential election held in June this year featured fierce competition among several candidates, with two candidates having the biggest advantage – Sandro Rosell and Juan Laporta.

Sandro Rosell held a glass of red wine, his eyes fixed on Ronaldinho's every touch of the ball.

"See that fried meatball?"

He lowered his voice to his staff, “The Parisians are not good enough for him.”

The assistant quickly snapped photos of the Brazilian's heroic performance on the field, while Rosell was already fantasizing about himself leading Ronaldinho, who was wearing a Barcelona number 10 jersey, onto the Camp Nou, with votes flying in from the stands like snowflakes.

In another box, amidst the cigar smoke, Laporta's gaze sliced ​​across the stadium like a scalpel.

When Ronaldinho toyed with Alfakiri with his heel, a slight smile appeared on his lips.

When Roy violently overtook Palaro, his pupils suddenly contracted.

Suddenly, he turned to his legal advisor and held up two fingers: "If they choose me, I'll prepare two offers, one for Paris and one for the Monaco president—and the notice will be sent to my contacts at Mundo Deportivo, making sure to exaggerate the story! I'm going to sign another Ronaldo for them! And another one, a combination of Riquelme and Laudrup!"

In Laporta's heart.

Ronaldinho is like a revival engine, an artistic master who can instantly ignite the passion of fans.

Roy is a deadly poison, aside from his age, athletic ability, and potential commercial value.

Laporta values ​​Real Madrid's youth academy the most. If La Fabrica's talent becomes a Barcelona star, it's worth a thousand Catalan pig heads.

This is enough to avenge the humiliation that Florentino Pérez brought to Barcelona by signing Figo.

The legal advisor whispered a reminder: "But we already have Kluivert and Saviola."

Laporta laughed: "That disgusting Dutch rapist who drives fast? He should have been kicked out long ago!"

(In 1995, he lost control of his car due to excessive speed, resulting in the death of a Dutch director, and in 1997, Kluivert was accused of sexually assaulting a Dutch woman along with three friends.)
In the 41st minute of the match, the roar of the crowd at Parc des Princes was suddenly cut off—

Monaco launched an offensive.

Rothen dribbled the ball and passed it to the wing, then switched positions with Roy and cut inside. Roy slightly lowered his left shoulder and precisely stepped on the ball with the sole of his left foot, "sticking" it to the sideline. Palaro's challenge was like hitting an invisible wall.

Pararo charged forward with all his might, but Roy tightened his back muscles, stepped on the ball with his left foot to avoid it going out of bounds, and used his right leg in a lunge position to support himself, forming a stable triangular structure. He also deliberately slowed down the pace to induce Pararo to lose patience.

"Roy's ball control with the sole of his foot is like dancing on a knife's edge! The Monaco star has turned the sideline into his private stage!"

With his left shoulder suddenly tilting to the left, Palaro immediately shifted his weight to the left to block the outside shot.

In a flash, Roy flicked the ball with the inside of his right foot, then turned and the ball went through Palaro's legs!
Lyle, attempting to cover, couldn't brake in time and collided with Palaro like two trains that had gone off track.

"He acts with his shoulders and kills with his toes! Palallo and Lyle are like two puppets! Roy has broken their strings!"

Paris' defense completely collapsed, forcing center-back Heinze to come out of his goal.

Facing Heinze's flying tackle, Roy flicked his ankle, dribbled the ball sideways with the sole of his foot, and the ball brushed past the Argentine's side. At the same time, he jumped up to avoid it—Heinze couldn't stop his leg and hooked the Monaco killer in mid-air.

"OOOOOHHHH! Roy humiliated the entire Paris defense with a nutmeg and a jump combo! Heinze should request to have a steel plate welded to his groin! The referee is pointing to the penalty spot—the Monaco fans' roar could lift the roof off!"

The moment Roy fell to the ground, Deschamps launched himself from the coaching bench, not caring whether the referee would award a penalty or not, and grabbed the fourth official's shoulders and shook him wildly.

Giuly mocked Heinze by mimicking a nutmeg, while Evra sprinted from outside the penalty area and jumped onto Roy's back.

The Brazilian saw the referee point to the penalty spot, his buck teeth gleaming slyly in the sunlight. He winked at Roy and shouted in Portuguese, "Atorzinho do caralho!" (Damn actor!)

Roy covered his face and peeked at the referee through his fingers, while his right leg, which was curled up, leisurely drew circles on the grass, staging an "impromptu tragedy before the penalty spot".

When Pochettino reached out to pull him up, Roy "weakly" extended his hand, but after the referee's clear ruling, he quickly grabbed the hand to use as leverage to get up, and whispered something:

"Remember to remind Heinze to wear a groin protector next time."

The Argentine center-back nearly pushed him back to the ground.

Laporta's cigar ash fell heavily onto his bespoke suit as he clung to the VIP box glass and roared:

"This is the person we've been looking for!"

Giuly strode over, and Roy bent down to pick up the ball, habitually handing it to him—but the Monaco captain took it with a smile.

Giuly caught the ball with one hand, gently bounced it in his palm, and then suddenly slammed it back against Roy's chest with a "smack":

"It's your turn."

Roy was taken aback, but Giuly had already grinned, revealing his adorable, fanged teeth that were always on display when he made a funny face.
"The championship penalty should be taken by the sharpest player."

He raised his hand and ruffled Roy's hair roughly, then turned and walked towards the edge of the penalty area, waving his hand behind his back as if to say:
"Go and become the one who decides everything."

Roy stood at the penalty spot and carefully scraped the grass off the ball, bit by bit.

This obsessive-compulsive action made Paris goalkeeper Alonzo's Adam's apple bob – the calmer Monaco's "young devil" was, the more chilling his killing intent became.

Roy slammed the ball down on the penalty spot, leaving a dent in the turf.

"He slammed the ball down onto the grass like a knight planting his flag on enemy soil!"

He took three steps back, jumped twice to adjust his breathing, and kept his eyes fixed on Alonzo.

He suddenly stopped during his run-up, feigning a dive.

"Roy takes a running start—then suddenly stops! Alonzo has been tricked! He veers to his right!"

Alonzo was tricked and lunged to his right!

Roy made a quick, slight swing with his right foot and unleashed a powerful shot into the corner!

The ball flew straight into the top left corner, grazed the bottom edge of the crossbar, and went into the net!
"Right foot—a powerful shot!!! BUUUUUT!!! ROOOOI!!! The ball pierced the top left corner like a bullet! Like it pierced the heart of Paris! Monaco takes the lead! This goal has opened a wound, but the one who suffers the most is not Paris, but Lyon!!!"

"Listen to that roar! Roy's first penalty kick is like Napoleon's first cannon shot—as one of the most promising young talents in the entire football world, does this mean—from this moment on, the history of French football will be rewritten!!!"

The entire Monaco expeditionary force climbed onto the seats, their red and white scarves forming a boiling wave of blood.

They roared in French with a southern French accent:
"One step! I'm just one step away!" (Only one step left! Only the last step!)

Canal+ commentator Dubois delivers an epic commentary: "Regardez ce monstre jeune!!! (Look at this young demon king!!!)"

"From the moment he donned the red and white jersey, Deschamps's army possessed the newest guillotine in all of Europe!"

"14 goals in 11 games, 6 assists, the defenses of Lyon, Marseille and Rennes were like paper under his feet!"

"And now, this blood-stained demonic sword is pressed against the heart of Paris—you are witnessing the most insane conquest scenario in Ligue 1 history!"

(The broadcast suddenly cut to a replay of Roy's interview after the loss to Bordeaux, in which he said: "A new winning streak is about to begin! The whole of Ligue 1 should be afraid of us!")

The subtitles now turn blood red: "Promise being fulfilled!"

The first half ended shortly afterward.

After the halftime whistle, Ronaldinho, sporting his signature buck-toothed smile, walked towards Roy. As they shook hands, the Brazilian suddenly pulled his hand back, playfully waving two fingers in front of his eyes—

"I'm going to score two goals in the second half!"

His tone was as relaxed as if he were discussing what to have for dinner, but his eyes flashed with a sharp glint that said, "The game has only just begun."

Roy was taken aback at first, then a smile appeared on his lips. He also held up two fingers, but pointed them towards the goal behind Ronaldinho.

"Then I'll score three."

The two looked at each other and smiled, as if an electric current was crackling in the air.

Monaco locker room tactical meeting.

Deschamps heavily circled the words "Ronaldinho" and "left wing corridor" on the tactics board with a marker, and the whiteboard in the locker room buzzed as it was tapped.

Paris's Achilles' heel:

Palaro (left-back) was outmaneuvered by Roy in the first half and was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

The two defensive midfielders, Leroy and Luis, lacked vertical protection, and repeatedly lost their mark at the edge of the penalty area.

Monaco's hidden dangers:
Evra's forward runs were too wide, and he was repeatedly attacked from behind by Fiorese.

Squillaci was always a step behind Ronaldinho (saying he was a step behind is too tactful).

Then he began his speech outlining the core tactical deployment:

"Listen, in the second half we're going to put Ronaldinho in a cage! We'll strangle him with triple chains!"

The first lock—Bernardi!

"You stick to him! Fouls are allowed, but don't give away free kicks in dangerous areas. The referee is lenient today, you can pull him up and down from 25 meters out. I want Ronaldinho to feel like he's pulling his legs out of a mud pit every time he turns!"

The second lock—Rodriguez!

"As soon as Bernardi gets past me, immediately engage him physically in a hip contact! That's his most hated point of contact; I want to make him walk awkwardly in the second half!" The third lock—Max!

"Get ready to tackle Ronaldinho when he gets the ball! I don't care about getting a card, I want him to remember the pain! A yellow card to silence him is worth it!"

Left wing – Roy!
"You switch to playing false 9, specifically to torment Palaro! When you receive the ball, drop your shoulder and pretend to go down the byline, then cut inside and unleash a powerful shot into the near corner! Alonzo always tries to dive for the far corner, so attack his weak spot! If Heinze comes to cover, immediately pass it across to Giuly who's making a run!"

Set piece (slams the tactical board hard) — Remember this!

"When Rothen took the corner kick, Squillaci and Pulso, you two sandwiched Pochettino! A 182cm short guy trying to win a header? Ha, he's already their tallest center-back!"

The locker room fell silent. The head coach drew two lines on the tactics board with a red pen:
"Let Parisians remember this day—we will win by stepping over the corpses of artists!"

"Now, let's go out and show them what real strangulation is like!"

The match had just started in the 47th minute.

At the Parc des Princes stadium, a sudden burst of red and white cheers erupted in the Monaco away stands—

Big screen refresh: Lyon 0-3 Guingamp (Malouda scores twice, Drogba provides another assist)
"C'est fini! C'est fini! (It's over! It's over!)"

Monaco fans waved banners that read "36=CHAMPION," indicating that they would win the title in the next round!

Some people even lit cold fireworks, and red and white smoke instantly enveloped the entire away stand.

Roy glanced back at the big screen, a cold smile playing on his lips, and made an "eight" gesture to his nearby teammates—Monaco were leading Lyon by 8 points!
Deschamps abruptly stood up from the bench and roared at the field: "Now, crush Paris!"

After witnessing such a dramatic scene, the Canal+ commentator's tone also became frantic:
"Lyon's coffin lids are nailed shut! Drogba and Malouda are wearing Monaco's invisible jerseys tonight! Now, every touch of Roy makes could prematurely paint the championship trophy red and white!"

The 48th minute of the game.

Giuly suddenly accelerated on the right wing, forcefully overtook Portiello, and delivered a powerful cross into the penalty area!

Roy weaved nimbly through the penalty area, and by the time Pochettino changed color, he had already squeezed past him and was about to draw a penalty.

Roy lunged forward, his head grazed the ball, and it flew towards the goal. Goalkeeper Alonzo made a desperate effort to punch the ball out of bounds.

But Roy, who got up, looked relaxed and smiled as he made a "listening to the cheers" gesture towards the stands—the roar of the Monaco fans almost lifted the roof off!
Rothen took a deep breath, took three steps to run up, and delivered a corner kick with inward spin. Squillaci overpowered Pochettino and slammed the ball into the ground with a powerful header!

Alonzo made a brilliant save with one hand, but the Paris defense was thrown into complete chaos – the ball deflected and slammed into the inside of the near post.

The rebound trajectory formed a death triangle: Heinze and Dehu rushed for the ball at the same time, their knees collided with a dull thud, and the ball bounced wildly in the 6-yard area!

Pulso slid across the ground and swept the ball through the gaps in the defense—

Max faked a shot but actually missed, causing the entire Paris defense to lose focus.

Roy appeared at the penalty spot like a ghost, and without adjusting, he fired a low shot!

Dehu instinctively stretched out his leg to intercept, and the ball struck the protruding part of his left ankle bone, deflecting and going into the net!

Alonzo's view was completely blocked by Portiello's back.

The goalkeeper only heard the "whoosh" sound when the net trembled, and could only watch in despair.

Paris Saint-Germain 0-2 Monaco.

Roy sprinted to the corner flag area, jumped up, turned 180 degrees, and opened his arms to the Monaco die-hards' stand—the exhilarating roars erupting from the red and white flags instantly engulfed him.

“LE MONSTRE!!!”

The 75-year-old gentleman Monardi, a Monaco native, a season ticket holder for the Stade Louis II, and Roy's landlord, was sitting in his living room with a red and white carpet, staring at the television with his face flushed.

"Demon King! That's right, Hell is something I rented!"

He sprang up from his armchair, nearly knocking over the bottle of absinthe beside him, his finger trembling as he pointed at Roy running and celebrating on the screen, as if announcing to the whole world—"This kid is going to live with me!"

His grandson, 15-year-old Timothy, wearing an Arsenal Henry jersey, pouted and said, "Grandpa, Henry is the real legend, he—"

"Shut up!"

Monardi grabbed his grandson's Arsenal scarf, pointed at the TV, and roared, "Look! Now that's what you call a young genius! You like Henry? When Henry was 18, he was a quiet, skinny boy who was being tackled all over the pitch and couldn't even score five goals a season! As for Roy—he's already stabbed Paris in the heart!"

58 minutes.

Monaco launched a major attack, but Evra's run into the box was too deep, and he failed to track back in time.

De Hu suddenly unleashed a 42-meter accurate long pass from the backfield, directly piercing the gap on Monaco's left flank – the corridor left by Evra's deep forward run!
After receiving the ball, the Brazilian was surrounded by three players: Marquez, Bernardi, and Rodriguez.

With a gentle flick of the outside of his right foot, the ball slipped through the six legs as if it had been magically passed through a wall.

Fiorese understood perfectly and made a diagonal insertion.

Monaco's entire defense was deceived by Ronaldinho's feints and eye contact.

Fiorese dribbled forward with great strides, and Squillaci frantically chased back, but was left three body lengths behind.

Rome abandoned its goal, but its premature shift in focus led to a disastrous mistake.

The French striker deftly slotted the ball into the far corner as he fell to the ground in Rome, and despite Elfakiri's sliding tackle to block the shot, the ball still found its way into the net.

Canal+ commentator roared: "RETOUR LA VIE! Ronaldinho awakens Paris with a devilish assist! Look at Fiorese's celebration—he makes a '1-2' gesture towards the Monaco bench, the war has just begun!"

Evra was then substituted by Abidal and walked off the field dejectedly.

69 minutes.

Giuly's right flank tears apart the defense
Giuly suddenly accelerated, took a step out with his right foot to shake off Portiello, and the Paris left-back stumbled and fell to the ground!

A low, sweeping shot cut through the six-yard box like a scalpel, heading straight for the far post—

Roy controlled the ball, then gently tapped it with the outside of his right foot, and the ball seemed to be glued to his foot as if it were attracted by a magnet.

His shoulder slumped to the right, and Heinze and Dehu simultaneously lunged to his right to block him.

With a sudden twist of his ankle, he delivered a concealed pass, tapping the ball back to Rothen, who had made a run into the left rear, with the inside of his right foot!
Canal+ commentator roars:

"Incredible! Roy's ankle rotation was practically criminal! He made the two PSG center-backs look like hypnotized bulls!"

Rothen made no adjustment and sent the ball forward, which went through Leer's legs!

Roy's diagonal run completely threw the Paris defense into disarray—a fluid passing combination, a one-two pass that turned the tide.

Faced with a block, Roy gently pushed the ball back to Giuly with his right foot, who then unleashed a powerful shot!
Alonzo made a brilliant save with one hand, but the ball was still in play in the penalty area.

Roy slid in and fired a shot, his left leg fully extended, his studs scraping up bits of turf!

The ball struck the inside of the left post with a "thud" and deflected into the net!
"BUUUUUUUUT DEL MONSTRE! Roy delivered the final blow with his left foot! Hat trick! Hat trick! Hat trick! The goalposts became his accomplices—listen to that crisp 'ding,' the bells of Monaco's championship!"

Deschamps immediately knelt down and slammed his fist into the grass, creating a crater!

Ronaldinho shook his head and smiled wryly, giving Lyle a gesture that said, "This guy's gone mad."

The die-hard Monaco fans in the stands chanted in unison, "The Demon King! The Demon King!"

The old landlord smashed a second wine glass in the living room and roared at his grandson, "Henry? Henry didn't dance on the graves of Parisians!"

He grabbed the phone and called his old friend Claude—another die-hard Monaco fan—his voice hoarse with excitement: "Claude! Can you see this?! My tenant! My house! My devil!"

Claude's loud laughter came from the other end of the phone: "Jean-Pierre, his rent will go up next season! Then he'll come and rent my place!"

77 minutes.

Ronaldinho received the ball near the center circle, then suddenly flicked it with his heel to change direction, shaking off Bernardi's entanglement!

He dribbled the ball towards the penalty area, and Max tried desperately to chase back, but the Brazilian's pace was inconsistent, making him feel like he was walking on cotton!

After breaking into the penalty area, Ronaldinho used three consecutive shoulder feints and evasive maneuvers, causing Squillaci and Rodriguez to lose their balance, like two out-of-control revolving doors!

Squillaci stretched out his leg to intercept, but tripped Ronaldinho's supporting foot!
The Brazilian fell to the ground, but the referee saw it clearly – penalty!
"Little Luo fooled the entire defense line with her dancer's elegance!"

Ronaldinho deliberately paused during his run-up, and Roma lunged to his right in advance!

The Brazilian calmly slotted the ball into the bottom left corner, delivering a decisive blow!

The score remained 2-3 until the final whistle.

On the big screen, even though Govou pulled one back in the second half and Drogba scored again before the final whistle, Lyon's 1-4 away victory sealed their fate in the title race.

Like Malouda, he became Monaco's twelfth and thirteenth best players.

As soon as Roy took off his jersey, Giuly and Evra grabbed him from either side, and the whole team rushed over and tossed him high into the air!
Squillaci was so excited he almost threw Roy over his head, while Max yelled from below, "Don't drop our best player!"

Assistant coach Petit rushed onto the field, grabbed Roy in a hug, and yelled in his ear, "Kid, you're fucking going to be a legend!"

The Monaco supporters roared, red and white fireworks engulfed the entire away stand, and fans sang at the top of their lungs:

"On a conquis Paris! Nous sommes les champions!" (We have conquered Paris! We are the champions!)

Someone held up a pre-prepared banner that read "36=CHAMPION," while on the other side, a giant banner that read "LE MONSTRE EST NOUS" (The Demon King Belongs to Us) was displayed!

"Roy, stay!"

As Roy walked toward the expeditionary force's stands to express his gratitude, a hoarse roar suddenly pierced through the cheers:
"RESTE, ROI!"
In an instant, the roar of the entire stands transformed into a unified shout:
"ROI, RESTE! ROI, RESTE!"

Roy paused for a moment, then smiled and cheered for the fans, but didn't say anything.

Juli put her arm around his shoulder and asked in a low voice, "What's wrong? Are you interested?"

Roy just looked at the stands and said softly, "Are you kidding me? I still have a contract with the team."

Canal+ Final Commentary:
"Monaco's young prodigy has won the championship trophy in red and white ahead of schedule with a performance that conquered Paris! And now—all the top clubs in Europe have probably already called his agent!"

Ronaldinho pushed open the door to the Monaco dressing room, his sweat-soaked Paris number 10 jersey draped over his shoulders, grinning with his signature buck teeth.

Roy's performance clearly earned his respect.

After Roy shook hands with him, bumped shoulders, and walked out of the locker room with his jersey,...

Ronaldinho grinned and said, "If we were on the same team, you just keep charging forward, and I guarantee the ball will find you like it has eyes!"

Xiao Luo suddenly leaned closer and lowered his voice:
"Listen, I'm going to Manchester next season, do you want to come with me? We can sweep the Premier League!"

Roy smiled slightly, but didn't answer immediately. He simply folded Ronaldinho's jersey slowly and deliberately.

He thought to himself, "Manchester United? Ferguson has the phone numbers of every nightclub owner in Manchester on his phone, and he has informants at every bar. You Brazilian are laughing now, but you won't be laughing when you get your eardrums ruptured from being yelled at by the 'hairdryer'."

However, he knew very well that the Brazilians ultimately did not go.

Before leaving, Ronaldinho winked and said, "Think it over carefully. I'll wait for you in Manchester for coffee, of course, when Ferguson is asleep."

Drinking coffee is good; you have to drink coffee.

(End of this chapter)