Kai's circling dribble completely triggered Atlético Madrid's anger.
Gabi charged in with a vicious sliding tackle — studs showing.
Kai had just turned when he saw it. He immediately dragged the ball sideways, spun again with a quick little top, and slipped away.
The gap opened instantly.
Kai pushed the ball forward.
Atlético's centre-back Mario had no choice but to step up and cover Gabi's space.
Kai lifted his foot, ready to thread a through ball to Cristiano Ronaldo—
Boom!
His balance vanished.
He was sent flying backward and crashed hard onto the turf.
It was Gabi.
Furious after being embarrassed, Gabi had scrambled up from the first failed tackle and hacked Kai down from behind.
"Iron Blood."
Some players have it — that ability to explode with brute force and fight beyond their limits.
Even an average player can suddenly compete with elite talent once that fire is ignited — especially in defense and physical battles.
But rage comes at a price.
Predators fueled purely by bloodlust don't think clearly.
Yes, their aggression increases.
But so does recklessness.
Pepe. Sergio Ramos. Diego Costa.
Iron-blooded warriors.
All notorious for fouls, cards, and losing control.
If seasoned professionals can lose their heads, it's even more normal for fourteen- or fifteen-year-olds to boil over when adrenaline surges.
And right now—
Gabi had lost control.
Beep!
The referee blew immediately.
But it was already too late.
Sporting players sprinted toward Kai.
"Fuck you!" Cristiano Ronaldo roared, shoving Gabi to the ground and jumping on him.
Atlético's Mario and Álvaro rushed in and flipped Ronaldo over.
Then everyone piled in.
Shoving.
Grabbing.
A full-on brawl.
In the VIP stands, UEFA officials stared in disbelief.
In a match watched across Europe…
You give us a damn street fight?
Coaches and security staff stormed in to separate both sides.
Eventually, order returned.
Gabi — straight red card.
Mario and Álvaro — yellow cards.
For Sporting: Cristiano Ronaldo, Kai, and Semedo — yellow cards.
Thankfully, no additional reds.
Sporting won a dangerous free kick near the box.
The camera zoomed in on Kai as the team doctor checked his ankle.
His left Achilles stung, likely bruised where Gabi's studs had scraped his sock.
After confirming he could continue, Kai walked toward the ball.
The free kick was right in front of the Atlético fans.
Boos exploded instantly.
"You diving bastard!"
"Keep spinning like a ballerina!"
"One day someone will break your leg!"
"Trash! You're already scheming like this at your age!"
"You were lying down during the fight — now you're magically fine? What a miracle!"
"He dived to get Gabi sent off!"
Why do fans lie with their eyes open?
Because that's football.
Some are blind.
Some defend their club no matter what.
And some know exactly what they're doing — trying to mess with Kai's focus.
The third type is the most annoying.
And the most dangerous.
After a brief exchange with Ronaldo, Ronaldo stepped aside.
Kai would take the free kick.
"Oh! That's rare. Kai is taking it himself."
"Cristiano Ronaldo is usually Sporting's number one free-kick taker. His technique is excellent."
"Kai's shooting is… volatile. He's scored some stunning world-class goals — but also blasted plenty into the stands. We're talking about football shots, of course."
"He's the team's first penalty taker mainly because of his mentality — not because of flawless shooting."
"And remember, he was just hacked from behind. That scrape on his left Achilles could affect his strike."
"But I understand why he's stepping up."
"When faced with violence, you can throw punches — or you can let football speak."
"I prefer the latter."
Under UEFA's reminder, commentators carefully framed the situation as a lesson about sportsmanship.
Let football respond.
Not fists.
Kai stood over the ball.
Expression cold.
Eyes fixed on the top corner.
When the camera zoomed in, no one could deny it —
Focused Kai looked ridiculously handsome.
Blonde hair and he'd be the next David Beckham.
So what would it be?
A curling banana shot?
Or pure violent power?
The whistle blew.
Kai ran up.
Boom!
He struck firmly.
Atlético's wall jumped high—
The ball slid under them.
Under their damn feet.
Mario stared in disbelief.
You serious?
All that dramatic buildup—
And you cut it low?
There's a hierarchy in free kicks.
Power shots rank lower than beautiful curlers.
The higher and prettier the arc, the more "artistic."
But a ground-cutting shot?
Is that even classy?
Whoosh.
The ball slipped cleanly beneath the wall.
The goalkeeper reacted too late.
Net.
3–0.
"GOAL! Three to zero! Kai has killed the game!"
"Down to ten men and three goals behind — Atlético's UEFA Youth League dream is over!"
"Kai answers the insults with pure football intelligence!"
"Two goals tonight! Completely unaffected by Gabi's foul!"
Kai beckoned his teammates.
They sprinted toward the corner flag.
Leap.
Mid-air 180-degree turn.
Arms wide.
"Siuuuuu!"
Eleven players landed in sync.
Some fans followed.
"Siuuuuuuu!"
The sound shook the stadium.
Atlético players dropped their heads.
Torres stood still, eyes red, teeth clenched.
He didn't blame Gabi.
He blamed himself.
He believed he was better than Cristiano Ronaldo.
Tonight, he hadn't proved it.
Time drained away.
Three final whistles.
Full-time.
Kai picked up the match ball and blasted it into the stands.
Real Madrid and Manchester United fans scrambled for it.
Bayern Munich supporters prepared to leave early, uninterested in the ceremony.
They didn't like Kai.
He had publicly predicted Manchester United would win the Champions League — and claimed he would "teach them how to win."
Now he had lifted the UEFA Youth League trophy.
From a superstitious perspective alone, Bayern fans had already labeled him a future enemy.
As for Atlético supporters?
Most had already left before the final whistle.
Sporting celebrated freely.
And tonight—
Kai had let football do all the talking.
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