Chapter 184: Full Strength Showdown

Words : 1459 Updated : Oct 1st, 2025

Inside a hospital in Zagreb, the players of Dinamo Zagreb were lining up for their physical examinations. After nearly a month of rest, their overall condition had improved significantly. Being young, they recovered quickly, and most of them believed they were back in peak form. Still, standing before the examination room, watching their teammates go in one by one, players like Modrić couldn't help but feel nervous. They were afraid—afraid of once again being diagnosed with injury risks. "Luka Modrić!" Modrić perked up and stepped into the examination room. Under the guidance of the doctors, various monitoring devices were attached to his body, and the routine check-up began. The hospital's examination proceeded in an orderly fashion. Meanwhile, back on Dinamo Zagreb's training ground, Suker was conducting his pre-match training. This time, he focused primarily on shooting drills. [Platinum Card (Skill Card): Romário's Toe Poke] – [79%] Romário the Lone Wolf! Part of Brazil's legendary "R-R Strike Force" alongside Ronaldo, Romário was known for being one of the most lethal forwards in football history. Just like his nickname "Lone Wolf," Romário was rebellious and unyielding, but also possessed unparalleled shooting technique. For Romário, wild power shots were for amateurs. As a genius within the box, he mastered a variety of finishing techniques. Toe pokes, curlers, chips... These flashy shots made him a nightmare assassin in front of goal. And for Suker, this toe poke technique was especially well-suited for him. Romário stood only 167 cm tall—not a physically imposing figure, and not one for physical battles—but he had explosive acceleration. His burst of speed allowed him to shake off defenders quickly and finish with clinical precision. Coincidentally, these were Suker's strengths as well. He was even taller than Romário. And he had full confidence in his own acceleration and speed. As such, mastering this toe poke would give Suker the ability to turn the game around in crucial moments. It also made him an even more threatening presence in the forward line. Bang! Bang! Bang! Suker kept practicing toe pokes during his dribbling drills. The toe poke was highly deceptive—it didn't require a dramatic leg swing, just a small flick of the lower leg to produce a rapid shot. Many believed that toe pokes were just stabbing the ball with the tip of the foot. But that's not entirely true. In a proper toe poke, the toes are tensed and slightly lifted, using both the area under the toes and the toe tip to execute the shot. This technique ensured both speed and stability. Through repeated practice, Suker found that this move seemed tailor-made for him. It gave him a lethal option in both the penalty and goal areas, even from tight angles. After a while, Mandžukić came out of the equipment room. Looking nervous, he walked up to Suker. "It's almost noon. Why haven't they returned yet?" He said anxiously, "Could it be they're still not recovered?" Suker glanced at him, placed the ball at the edge of the penalty area, executed another toe poke, then replied, "Don't worry. Worrying won't change anything. We'll know once they're back." "You're not even a bit nervous?" Mandžukić sighed, "We're facing AC Milan next. Even with our full squad it's a tough fight, let alone with subs." Suker looked at him strangely and suddenly said, "You seem pretty excited." For the past few days, Mandžukić had been constantly talking about the match against AC Milan. Compared to the one against Manchester United, he seemed even more fired up. But not in a fearful way—rather, with eager anticipation. Scratching his head and grinning, Mandžukić said, "AC Milan has Shevchenko!" Suker suddenly understood. Mandžukić really liked Shevchenko and wanted to be a player like him. But Shevchenko was a classy, stylish icon... And Mandžukić was just a lovable goofball. As the two chatted, the honk of a bus horn echoed from outside the training ground. Suker and Mandžukić turned toward the sound. The team bus had arrived. Modrić and the others began disembarking. "They're back!" Mandžukić immediately rushed toward them. Suker quickly followed. At the training ground gate, Srna, Modrić, and the rest were walking with their heads lowered. Srna looked grim, brows tightly furrowed, shoulders drooping. Seeing this, Mandžukić grew increasingly nervous. "Bad news?" "Sigh~~~" Srna looked up at the sky and sighed heavily. Suker twitched. That acting was so fake... "Luka, why is your mouth twitching?" Suker asked. "Huh? Ah?" Modrić quickly suppressed his smile and covered his mouth. "Probably static from the monitor pads!" You put monitor pads on your mouth now? Trying to lie? Suker also noticed Vukojević subtly pinching Modrić. Rolling his eyes, Suker thought: These guys are really playing dumb with me, huh? He could see through them instantly. But Mandžukić was already heartbroken. "I guess... it's just me and Suker then. Sigh~~~ what a shame." He stepped forward to hug Srna. "Don't be sad. You'll get another chance. Wait—why are your shoulders shaking?" Pulling back, he saw Srna covering his mouth, laughing to the point of tears. "What are you laughing at?" Mandžukić asked in confusion. Suddenly, it dawned on him. His expression turned furious. "You tricked me!!" Hahahahahahahahahaha!!! The group burst out laughing! Vukojević jumped out and shouted excitedly with arms wide open: "Everyone passed! We can all play against AC Milan!" "Wow!! Dajio, you bastard!" Mandžukić yelled in excitement, then remembered he was supposed to be mad and turned to scream at Srna, charging forward. Srna ran off immediately, shouting: "It was Duij's idea! Chase him!" Mandžukić immediately changed course, going after Duimović—who was still hobbling on crutches. He tackled Duimović and threw his crutch far away. "That's what you get for tricking me!" Duimović didn't get angry. He just sat on the ground, laughing non-stop. Suker looked at these childish teammates, exasperated. "Too bad we didn't fool you," Modrić said with a tinge of regret. Suker rolled his eyes. "Srna's acting wasn't bad, but the rest of you? Please. Still—welcome back, you little punks!" The group laughed and messed around together. With the injury worries gone, their spirits lifted significantly. They now had renewed confidence for the next match. After all, being able to field a full-strength squad was the best news. In the head coach's office, Bešić watched the joyful scene below with a smile on his face. With the injury risks gone, it was the best possible outcome. "Thank goodness they're all young—if they were older, it would've taken a lot longer to recover," assistant coach Kleiman said, shaking his head with a chuckle. Bešić nodded and clapped his hands. "Alright, gentlemen. Time to plan for the next match." The room fell silent. "Since we entered the Champions League proper, every game has brought new challenges. We've been feeling our way through. Compared to those powerhouse clubs, we lack in many areas—our players, and even us coaches." He paused and continued: "That's why, for the next match, I plan to stick with our current tactics." "Still high pressing?" Kleiman frowned. "AC Milan is a different beast. Their lineup is stable, and they have a deep-lying playmaker like Pirlo. Pressing might not be effective." Fitness coach Losperić added, "But it's still better than sitting back. Trying to defend against Shevchenko, Inzaghi, and Kaká..." Silence. Dinamo Zagreb had a strong attack, but their defense—even with improvement—still lagged far behind these elite teams. Facing a backline of Cafu, Nesta, Stam, and Maldini... And their defensive midfield structure... Trying to play defensively against AC Milan would be asking for trouble. "We need to take the initiative." Bešić grinned. "Even if it's tough, it's our only option right now." "Besides, this is the style we're most comfortable with. A sudden tactical shift might do more harm than good. Better to stick to what we know." He added with a smile, "Tactics are one thing, but it's the players who actually play the game—and I believe in these boys." Hearing that, the others smiled too. After all the Champions League matches they'd gone through, they had grown to trust these young players. "Then it's settled! Let Milan's terrifying defense feel the full force of Dinamo Zagreb's attack!" "Come on! Let's show the Milanistas what we've got!" "We might not lose!" "Let's go! Win the home leg, hold on in the away leg—semifinals, here we come!" "Hahaha!! Let's do it!" The coaching staff were fired up. A Champions League quarterfinal against AC Milan? Hell yeah—that's as cool as it gets!

Chapter 184: Full Strength Showdown

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