Emperor of Football: Julien De Rocca

BOOM!

All the Bastia fans were stunned by this goal.

They were leading! They were actually leading!!

The entire stadium surged with blue flags and jerseys, as if truly transported to the Mediterranean.

This was Bastia, the darling of the blue sea!

"Julien!"

The fans chanted Julien's name, raising their arms high and waving frantically at Julien who was charging toward the corner flag to celebrate.

Julien beamed with joy as he rushed to the corner, pounding his chest where the Bastia crest sat.

Amid countless fans' cheers, he spread his arms wide, embracing the voices that belonged to him.

"Julien! Fifteen minutes in, Bastia takes the lead! My God, Julien's series of dribbles—his feet seemed to have motors, the pace was incredible! Hard to imagine that at six feet tall, he could have such amazing step frequency. This is pure talent!"

The commentator was completely stunned by Julien's consecutive dribbling moves.

Rudi Garcia threw up his hands and shook his head on the sideline—the defense against Julien had been a complete failure!

Meanwhile, Hadzibegic beside him was still celebrating, though he felt it wasn't enough and sighed with some regret, "That kid is still too honest. When he got touched just now, he should have gone down immediately—could've gotten him a red card, A full red card and penalty."

In the stands.

Elion saw that this goal came from Joe Cole's through pass being intercepted, leading to Bastia's counterattack that Julien finished off.

He sighed slightly—Joe Cole had indeed declined. No wonder after transferring from Chelsea to Liverpool, Liverpool didn't want him and loaned him to Lille.

But watching Julien's series of moves in that blue Bastia jersey, Elion found himself momentarily imagining this was Julien at Chelsea.

What a pity he was no longer a Chelsea player.

Nor was he still a Lille player.

Elion thought about how he had brought Julien from Lille to Chelsea, and for a moment felt dazed—several years had passed, yet it felt just like yesterday.

Elion murmured to himself, "Perhaps I could try harder."

After Bastia's brief celebration.

Lille quickly kicked off, and falling behind away from home only strengthened their attacking resolve.

But after the goal, Bastia's players were clearly lifted in morale, and their defensive intensity gradually increased.

Hazard's dribbling on the left wing, under a two-man press, was directly tackled away by the advancing Rothem.

Rothem got up and kept raising his arms toward the stands, urging the fans to get louder.

This sent wave after wave of noise through the stadium.

However, Julien also faced tight marking—just dropping back to receive the ball, he was knocked down from behind by Chedjou.

The defensive intensity shot up.

And this match's referee clearly had a loose standard.

After both teams tested the waters, their challenges became increasingly aggressive. Hazard was tackled several times in the attacking third, but Bastia only received one yellow card.

This infuriated Rudi Garcia, who raged at the fourth official and earned himself a yellow card instead.

This led Lille's players to increase their physicality as well.

Julien attacked with the ball in the final third.

Though his feet were quick, when Chedjoublocked his position and the retreating Idrissa Gueye came not for the ball but straight for the man, Julien had no choice.

He was knocked to the ground.

Hiss!

Julien sucked in a sharp breath, rubbing his thigh where he'd been hit.

A blow to the thigh muscle really hurt.

"Don't think about getting past here again," Chedjou muttered threateningly as he walked past.

Other young players might have risen to the bait and clashed with Chedjou, but Julien was well-versed in these petty on-field tricks—how could he fall for it?

Did they think those twenty years in his previous life on amateur pitches were for nothing?

Amateur football was even more lawless than professional matches, with kidney punches, career-ending tackles, and elbow strikes galore.

Trash talk was relatively civilized.

He wouldn't be affected by it.

In the stands, Leonardo stared at Julien, his mind filled with all of Julien's strengths.

Those weaknesses seemed insignificant compared to his extreme talents.

Never mind Julien's goal just now—his dribbling moves and ball sense already surpassed 99.999% of people worldwide.

These things, if you weren't born with them, you'd never have them in this lifetime.

Football was a game for geniuses. No matter how hard you worked, you could only fully realize your natural talent ceiling.

There was no such thing as making it in this game without talent, relying solely on hard work.

That was football's cruelty.

And their job as scouts was to find those talented players among countless football youths.

Julien clearly possessed first-class talent.

Leonardo recorded everything he observed about Julien in his notebook, planning to organize it later and send it back to Turin.

On another side.

Châtaigner and Pierre were extremely angry at this moment, cursing in the stands.

The reason was that Julien had been fouled multiple times on the pitch, while the referee showed no reaction whatsoever.

Watching Julien get knocked down repeatedly broke Pierre and his wife's hearts.

Fortunately, the score remained unchanged for now. But the longer it stayed unchanged, the more anxious the gamblers became.

"No way, come on Lille! My accumulator bet—everything else hit, you're the only one left! My six-fold accumulator!"

"Are you kidding me? How is Lille throwing this? Thirty minutes and still no goal!"

"Hazard can't do it alone. Bastia clearly did their homework—whenever Hazard gets the ball, he faces three or four defenders. It's really difficult."

As cheers echoed around the Cesari Stadium.

Time ticked away minute by minute.

Last season's double crown winners Lille weren't showing absolute dominance away from home.

High possession but unable to convert to goals.

This made Lille's players increasingly frustrated.

But Bastia's defensive wall gave them headaches.

High balls couldn't get through, and ground passes couldn't penetrate either.

Instead, each successful defensive stand boosted Bastia's morale higher!

Some Bastia fans were already taunting from the stands—"Double crown? We're beating the double crown winners!!"

As the match entered the fortieth minute.

Lille's attacking momentum began to slow, with players' fitness levels dropping.

Rudi Garcia frowned at the pitch, constantly thinking about how to adjust for the second half.

Hadzibegic, facing a one-goal advantage, was actually quite nervous—a one-goal lead was too precarious.

It could easily be equalized, and once level, with Bastia's setup, they'd struggle to score again.

"Great save!"

Hadzibegic suddenly shouted.

On the pitch, Hazard passed to Joe Cole in the center, who unleashed a long-range shot.

Kahusac threw himself without hesitation, sliding to block Joe Cole's ground shot.

Crash!

The fans were startled—the ball hit him right in the upper thigh area, making many male fans instinctively wince in sympathy.

But Kahusac was completely fine and didn't let the ball bounce away.

Under his control.

He quickly got up and passed the ball to Rothem, who had come up to receive it.

At this moment, Julien was already making his run.

Without hesitation, Rothem played a diagonal long pass to switch the ball.

Chedjou had just pushed forward to attack, leaving Lille's backline quite exposed.

Julien took the ball and charged forward.

Beria followed, defending while retreating, waiting for his midfield teammates to track back.

But Julien wouldn't wait for him.

He accelerated and cut inside.

Maolida had already made his forward run into position.

All the Bastia fans stretched their necks, their cheers quieting as they focused intently on Lille's backfield.

A chance!

A chance!!

Countless eyes were fixed on Julien with the ball.