Emperor of Football: Julien De Rocca Chapter 76: Chapter-76 GOAL!!

The Césari Stadium erupted into a frenzy!

Goal!

After shaking off Ponroy, Julien faced the covering defender Perrot with unwavering determination and unleashed a curling shot.

A left-footed curler into the far corner!

The shooting technique of a genius striker was on full display in that mont. The ball traced an elegant arc through the air, heading straight for the far post's dead angle.

Goalkeeper Balijon had no chance whatsoever.

"Julien De Rocca!!"

One roar after another echoed throughout the Césari Stadium.

The cara focused on De Rocca.

At this mont, he was the sole focus of the entire ground.

After scoring, Julien excitedly slid on his knees toward the corner flag area.

He cupped his hand to his ear, listening to the fans' thunderous cheers.

Bastia's attacking direction was toward the north stand. Modoso watched the players in front of the stands and shouted with all his might, "Julien! Julien!!"

One chant after another, his face flushed red with excitent!

Teammates Maolida, Rothen, and others rushed over to embrace De Rocca.

"Brilliant work! That shot was incredible!"

"I thought you were going to dribble again—so decisive!"

His teammates hadn't expected Julien to choose to shoot directly even with a defender still in front of him.

But this is what genius is about, isn't it?

Choices that defy convention.

And still manage to make everyone cheer for him!

The boiling Césari erupted as the stadium DJ's voice rang out with trendous excitent: "The goal scorer is—"

The ho fans responded with full force: "Julien De Rocca!!!"

"The goal scorer is—"

"Julien De Rocca!!!"

Three consecutive call-and-responses pushed the atmosphere to its peak.

The DJ continued: "The current score is—"

"One-nil!!"

Another three rounds, each more passionate than the last.

"Currently leading is—"

"Bastia!!!!"

Bastia's paradise was Laval's hell.

This club, founded in 1902, had no illustrious heritage. They had long struggled in the lower divisions, only winning the Ligue 2 championship in the 1990/91 season and successfully promoting to Ligue 1.

They were quickly relegated and had been battling in Ligue 2 ever since.

The opposing players hung their heads in dejection.

Playing in what could almost be called a fortress ho ground, they felt like they could barely breathe.

Ambroise shouted from the sidelines, urging his players to rally and maintain their defensive shape.

On the other side, Hadzibegic and Châtaigner behind the bench breathed a sigh of relief.

They had watched De Rocca show no reaction to external criticism, though they worried it might be because Julien was keeping his feelings bottled up.

But this goal showed he truly didn't care about the noise.

"Julien has matured," Pierre, standing beside Châtaigner, said with so emotion. "In the past, I can't imagine how desperately he would have wanted to prove himself in this situation. He might even have gotten into conflicts with opposing players, refused to pass, and been temperantal."

Châtaigner nodded. "Yes, De Rocca is different now. He now possesses the qualities of those top-level talents."

Pierre continued to gaze at that radiant figure.

He had been invited by Châtaigner to discuss a contract. Pierre had initially assud Châtaigner wanted to negotiate Julien's contract renewal.

After all, with De Rocca's rapid developnt, the club would naturally want to renegotiate to maximize their returns.

But Châtaigner hadn't done that. His response was: "No, we'll wait for the sumr window and let Julien decide for himself. We have an agreent between us, don't we? As for your concern about low wages, don't worry—we'll make up for it with bonuses. It'll be the sa."

The contract Châtaigner was referring to was actually Bastia's current sponsor, Uhlsport, wanting to sign an endorsent deal with De Rocca.

Uhlsport's representatives had contacted Châtaigner to facilitate the connection.

Pierre wouldn't interfere in such matters. Once Julien ca of age next year, he wouldn't need to handle these things anymore.

By then, De Rocca wouldn't need a guardian and could handle everything independently.

Pierre watched the Césari fans going wild with excitent for Julien, unable to suppress his smile.

What parent doesn't want their child to succeed?

On the field.

Laval had restarted play.

But their attacking combinations seed sohow shaken by Bastia's intimidating ho atmosphere, appearing hesitant and constrained.

Under pressure from Bastia's pressing, they quickly made mistakes and lost possession.

Bastia quickly moved the ball forward.

They wanted to launch a quick attack.

But Laval's defensive recovery was active, preventing Bastia's counter-attack from developing, forcing it into positional play.

Bastia continuously passed the ball around the penalty area's edge, stretching and probing, trying to find an attacking route.

Laval had played six full matches in March—this was their seventh.

The players were already feeling the accumulated fatigue from the month.

Now, under Bastia's constant stretching and movent, their physical energy was being drained significantly.

De Rocca's several forward runs had already made Laval's entire right defensive line as jumpy as startled birds.

Every ti he moved, the defending players' hearts skipped a beat.

Julien made several feints.

Not seeing particularly good opportunities, he passed the ball back, allowing other avenues to develop.

During this standoff, so online critics who had always questioned De Rocca began to murmur: "As long as the opposition holds their position, De Rocca can't get through. This is Ligue 2—imagine higher-level competitions! His speed and physical presence simply aren't enough!"

Just as such comnts began to gain traction, in the 21st minute, De Rocca once again received a teammate's pass on the right side of the penalty area, controlling the ball at his feet.

His body was completely upright. His left foot made several feinting movents around the ball, but Ponroy, defending him, didn't budge.

He didn't dare to commit. He was afraid!

He could only stare intently at the football, waiting for Julien's next move, his entire body ready to pounce at any mont.

Ti seed to freeze in that instant.

Everyone's eyes were fixed on this small patch of ground.

Teammates' runs.

Laval players' defensive movents were all ignored.

All attention was focused on De Rocca.

After several feints, Julien suddenly shifted his body to the right with a wide arc.

Ponroy imdiately reacted, following him.

The mont he moved, De Rocca twisted his body and smoothly executed a rainbow flick, flicking the ball to the other side—incredibly fluid!

He instantly pushed off and burst past Ponroy's left side.

Whoosh!

The fans were so stunned by Julien's instantaneous movent that they all stood up. This dribbling was like a instant super fast breakthrough!

After De Rocca broke through, goalkeeper Balijon was already charging toward the ball at his feet. Julien accelerated sideways, flicking the ball toward the goal line with his left foot.

Catching up to the ball, from an extrely tight angle with his body leaning, he again used his left foot to poke the ball into the net!

BOOM!!

The stadium exploded like boiling oil.

De Rocca was the drop of water that ignited the entire crowd.

After shooting, Julien lost his balance and fell to the ground.

He smoothly rolled and got back up, facing the north stand directly.

Facing these most loyal fans with "blue blood" flowing through their veins—the Ultras Bastia supporters.

He spread his arms wide, welcoming the thousands of cheers that belonged to him,

Welcoming the era that belonged to him!

As if he were ruling the world just like that person once did!!

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