Emperor of Football: Julien De Rocca

Kiev Olympic Stadium.

Balotelli pointed to his sock, which already had a hole. "Look, isn't this a yellow card?"

The referee shook his head, signaling Italy to quickly take the free kick.

Pirlo pushed Balotelli away and told the others to stop arguing.

Time was pressing. It was already the 103rd minute, and the first half of extra time was nearing its end.

Pirlo didn't want to drag the match to a penalty shootout.

The French players took advantage of the time to rest with their hands on their hips. They were truly exhausted.

Julien stood on the outside, waiting for a counterattack opportunity while also resting. He really could barely run now.

In this match, he had burned everything.

But seeing Blanc's refusal to use Benzema, Mené, and others, he understood, he had to fight!

Blanc had done everything a coach could do, so they had to fight to the end too!

The other teammates were positioning themselves for the wall according to Lloris's instructions.

A set piece in extra time.

It was too dangerous!

Pirlo and Motta stood left and right of the ball, covering their mouths as they communicated.

Barzagli and Nocerino positioned themselves almost at the center circle to prevent France's counterattack.

Everyone else stood near the penalty area.

Waiting for the kick.

On the sidelines, both Prandelli and Blanc looked extremely tense. If possible, neither wanted to enter the cruel penalty shootout.

Especially Blanc.

Italy's goalkeeper was Buffon!

Beep!

As the referee's whistle sounded, all the fans held their breath watching Motta and Pirlo.

Soon, Motta moved. He ran up and stepped over the ball.

Then Pirlo struck hard with his right foot, sending the ball into the penalty area.

At the same time, all Italian and French players moved, rushing toward the ball.

Giroud, as the aerial threat, tried to jump but felt someone pulling his jersey. He couldn't get up.

Instead, Bonucci leaped high and got to the ball.

Crash!

The crowd gasped in surprise.

However, Bonucci didn't connect properly. His header was off, hitting his shoulder and bouncing up.

Other players rushed for the second ball.

Bang!

Lloris rushed out and punched the ball clear through the crowd!

The ball flew out of the penalty area.

Matuidi reacted first. He had been preparing for a counterattack and still had relatively good stamina.

He got to the ball before Marchisio, knocked it forward without hesitation, and sprinted ahead with big strides!

Crash!

France's counterattack!

The fans cried out in surprise, and French fans stood up, looking toward Matuidi.

On the pitch, Marchisio immediately rushed toward him, with Motta also covering.

Two-man press!

"Julien!"

Matuidi knew he had little chance of getting through. He shouted for Julien.

Blanc's words were like a brand burned into his mind whenever there's no opportunity, give the ball to Julien.

Facing this situation, the first person he thought of was Julien.

"Dans les pieds!!"

To feet! When Matuidi was dribbling forward, Julien was already observing the opposition's positioning while quickly moving forward.

Just waiting for Matuidi.

Bang! Matuidi crossed the ball to Julien on the right wing.

Julien controlled the ball and surged forward with big strides.

Barzagli and Nocerino quickly moved toward the right.

Marchisio and Motta, without slowing down, continued rushing back.

France's other players could barely run anymore.

Two against four in the front! French fans seeing this scene felt helpless—no one was there!

If there had been another pivot in the center to create space for Julien or provide a passing option... But there were no ifs.

Julien was still charging hard, but his steps were obviously slower. Barzagli was getting closer to him.

Sigh.

French fans' faces showed anxiety. They didn't blame Julien for being slow—after playing the whole match, Julien had given everything.

They just thought about this counterattack opportunity being wasted again...

Crash!!

"Julien!!"

Just when French fans thought Julien might be stopped by Barzagli,

At the instant Barzagli was about to get into position, Julien suddenly burst into an even faster speed!

Second acceleration!

Gritting his teeth, Julien forced a second acceleration. He felt the burning in his lungs. He also felt the pulling sensation in his thigh muscles.

But at this moment, the goal was his only target! The rapid surge of adrenaline made him completely forget all discomfort.

He instantly opened up distance from Barzagli!

French fans saw hope in that instant and roared. "Julien!"

"Julien!!"

The atmosphere at the scene was like gradually heating water, with bubbles rising to the surface one by one, then bursting... Zidane, Deschamps, Le Graët, and others couldn't sit still.

Like the fans, they stood up, their eyes glued to Julien!

Not wanting to look away for even a second.

Mbappé, Kanté, Mané... they also followed Julien. At this moment, they all seemed to become Julien.

Their vision shifted to see through Julien's eyes.

Charge! Go for it!

Prandelli felt like someone was gripping his heart. He roared. "Nocerino!!!"

This was his last defender who could stop Julien.

Nocerino also saw Julien shake off Barzagli and cut inside quickly.

Nocerino ran in a straight line, confident he could catch up to Julien! However, Julien was still accelerating!!

"My God!! Julien!!! God, what am I seeing! This is already the 100th minute! Julien is burning himself!!" The TF1 commentator's voice cracked with excitement!

At this moment in France, Thousands of breaths were held almost simultaneously, countless noisy bars fell silent... Everyone's gaze followed that figure striding forward!

104 minutes of full-speed sprinting! Huff!

"Huff!! "

Julien gasped roughly. He felt his lungs, his legs, his muscles, everything about him was about to burst into flames!!

The goal!

The goal!!

Julien's rapid sprint was making him somewhat oxygen-deprived. He relied on instinct to control the ball.

Ignoring the defenders, ignoring the goalkeeper, in his eyes, there was only the goal!

Whatever blocked his path, he would get past it!

A shadow lunged toward him. Instinctively, he flicked the ball and continued sprinting forward.

But this sprint, he couldn't continue.

Sharp pain shot through his inner thigh.

As he stepped over that shadow, the pain made it impossible to continue forward.

He fell.

But even as he fell, Julien kept staring at that empty goal.

Losing his balance, he still managed to poke the ball forward.

The light ball at this moment was as heavy as a mountain!

Stirring countless emotions!

Swoosh!

He seemed to hear the sound of the ball hitting the net—the most beautiful sound in the world.

He also seemed to smell the fragrance of the grass... At this moment, the world went quiet.

But the next moment, the world exploded!!

BOOM!

Thunderous cheers seemed ready to lift all of Kiev, all of Ukraine.

Tens of thousands of French fans' combined emotions, voices, and passion were like a nuclear bomb with Kiev Olympic Stadium as the epicenter, a mushroom cloud was exploding.

Shooting straight to the sky!!

"Julien!"

"Julien!!!"

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