Chapter 134: A Dominant First Victory

"Just two minutes into the match and Dinamo Zagreb scores! A perfect start! A perfect start!" Commentator Kraljevic was beside himself with excitement. He jumped to his feet, slamming the table as he shouted, "That's right! That's how you play! Press up! Press up! Press them until they can't breathe!" "Right from kickoff, Dinamo Zagreb disrupted Pyunik's rhythm with high pressing. Their center-backs were forced into long clearances due to the pressure, and Vukojević's interception was the turning point—this was the sign to switch from defense to attack!" "Once the ball reached Šuker's feet, everything just fell into place!" "These young lads launched into a blistering counterattack. Everyone thought Šuker would take on the defenders, but instead—he passed!" "He passed it! That rainbow pass tore open the opponent's defense, landing perfectly in the gap ahead of Mandžukić—and Mandžukić finished brilliantly!" "He gave Dinamo Zagreb the opening goal!" "These kids... they're absolutely amazing!" The crowd at the stadium erupted. The fans were ecstatic. They had expected the goal to come a bit later, maybe after the young players had settled in. But these boys had no intention of following the script. With a pressing start that broke the opponent's rhythm, they immediately countered—and scored. It was absurd.It was awesome. "Cough, cough, cough." In the tactical room of Mostar Zrinjski, Toriste choked on his water watching the goal. He exclaimed in shock, "They scored already?!" Was Pyunik really this easy to beat? Kosovic was equally stunned. They'd tried high pressing before, but Dinamo Zagreb's intensity was something else entirely. That number 11 striker charged like a beast!Kosovic knew he didn't have that kind of power. Boame clenched his fists tightly as he watched the slow-motion replay of the rainbow pass. He had practiced that pass with Šuker countless times. But in official matches, he had never once received it. And now, on the grand stage of the Champions League, the pass shone brightly—But the one receiving it wasn't him! Skolk stared blankly at the screen showing Šuker and Modrić celebrating. Surrounded by equally young faces. Skolk's expression turned a little despondent. He finally realized—he never truly belonged in their world. "Mario!!""Mario!!""Super Mario!" The team swarmed Mandžukić near the corner flag, celebrating wildly. They'd scored just two minutes in and taken the lead. It felt incredible. Coach Bešić clenched his fist tightly, his emotions just as intense. That's right! This was how they should play—Press up!Squeeze the opponent's passing lanes! The Pyunik players were dumbfounded. They conceded. Just two minutes in and they were already down. They hadn't seen this coming at all. And Dinamo Zagreb's efficiency? Unreal. They scored from their very first counterattack. At that moment, a bad premonition crept into their hearts. "Goal! Goal!""Such a quick goal!!""We're leading!!""Hahahahaha!!" From the bench, Rakitić and the others cheered loudly. They knew how dangerous this team was. So they weren't surprised by the goal. They were just thrilled. Their eyes burned with competitive fire. They wanted to join in too. They wanted to be part of the eleven on the field. Dinamo Zagreb players basked in applause as they returned to their half. Meanwhile, Pyunik players stared at them, faces tense and grim. They had clearly been rattled by that early goal. "But..." Šuker licked his lips, eyes gleaming: "The real torment starts now." "Again with the high pressing—FC Pyunik loses possession again. Their average pass count is under three! Dinamo Zagreb counters! Šuker passes, Srna overlaps and crosses—Mandžukić!! Oh~~~!! Mandžukić with the header!" The Yerevan Phoenix goalkeeper was fully alert this time and managed to tip the ball over the crossbar. "They've survived—for now. But Dinamo Zagreb's pressure hasn't let up. Another tactical corner—Šuker dribbles laterally, breaks free, curls it toward the far post!" Under everyone's watchful eyes, the ball dipped into the net. The Pyunik keeper dived desperately, but he couldn't reach it. "GOAL!!!!!!!!!!!""Another goal!!!!!!!" "27 minutes in—Šuker curls it in to double the lead. Dinamo Zagreb now leads Pyunik 2–0!" "These youngsters are dictating the entire rhythm of the match. They haven't given Pyunik a single chance." "Gamel Yakuhan, the Armenian prodigy—tonight, he fades into the background. Because he ran into Croatia's number 9!" Commentator Kraljevic roared into the mic: "Let me hear you shout his name—WHO SCORED FOR US? NUMBER NINE!" The 40,000-strong crowd went berserk. ŠUKER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Kraljevic laughed joyfully, glowing with excitement:"Enjoy it—this party's just getting started!" After the second goal, Dinamo Zagreb's attack grew even more relentless. They focused on the left wing and started causing more chaos.Especially Šuker, who could cut inside, shoot, or pass—fully showcasing his versatility. The constant pressure forced Pyunik to shift more defensive focus to the left. But that created another problem:Šuker could pass! Near the edge of the box, surrounded by three defenders, Šuker didn't hesitate. With the outside of his right foot, he curled the ball. The ball whizzed past Gazarton, the midfielder, who instinctively flinched and dodged. It soared past the defensive line, toward the far post. Valjević surged forward unmarked and dove in for a header—goal! Three goals in the first half. Dinamo Zagreb was running riot. Pyunik looked utterly lost. They didn't even know how to set up their formation anymore. Šuker on the left wing was completely unstoppable. Too few defenders, he dribbles and shoots.Too many, and he simply passes. Like with this goal—he crossed to the far post and set up Valjević. Dinamo Zagreb's grasp of width and tactical positioning was lightyears ahead. "How are we supposed to play like this?" Pyunik's center-back Bradić muttered in despair. Three goals down at halftime—this wasn't about morale anymore.Their minds were broken. Halftime in the locker room. CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP!! Bešić clapped and shouted, "Boys, you did great out there! Remember this feeling. Now, keep the pressure on for the first ten minutes of the second half. Let's try to get one more goal." The players beamed with excitement. "Strinić, Šildenfeld—start warming up!" The two substitutes jumped to their feet, ecstatic. Given the team's stellar performance, they would get to debut in the Champions League qualifiers too. Rakitić looked at them with envy. When will it be my turn? In the second half, Dinamo Zagreb came out swinging again. Strike while the iron's hot!They showed no mercy. This group of young warriors swept across Pyunik's half like a violent storm. When Modrić smashed in a long-range effort for the fourth goal, the stadium went absolutely wild. The fans could barely contain themselves. It was the Champions League qualifier debut for these youngsters. And no one expected it to unfold like this. "That's four goals already!" Davor Šuker said with a grin from the VIP box. "They're ruthless." Boban laughed: "Feels like they've taken it up a level since you left." "I just can't run like I used to—I don't fit their high-pressing style anymore. Mandžukić is perfect for this system. His physicality creates immense pressure up front." Boban nodded. "And Šuker's anticipation is excellent too." They watched the game with admiration. This young team's Champions League debut had already made its mark. At the 65th minute, Dinamo Zagreb made a substitution. Šuker and Srna came off. They had been instrumental on the left flank, and their energy was drained from constant running. "I still have gas left, why are they taking me off?" Šuker was reluctant. Srna threw an arm around his shoulders and laughed, "Give the bench some time to shine, will you?" Šuker finally nodded in resignation. With the pair subbed off, Dinamo Zagreb finally eased their offensive tempo. The team transitioned from attack to a more defensive posture. FC Pyunik trailed by four goals—not just in numbers, but in spirit. Their star, the so-called Armenian prodigy Gamel Yakuhan, stood frozen on the pitch, completely at a loss. Strinić and Šildenfeld made their Champions League qualifying debuts. With the team on the back foot, they didn't get many chances to stand out. But for defenders, stability is the highest praise. Final whistle. Dinamo Zagreb crushed FC Pyunik 4–0 at home. Šuker, with two assists and one goal, was once again the man of the match. His phenomenal performance electrified the home crowd. Even as they boarded the team bus, the fans were still chanting his name. Šuker! Šuker!