The All-Around Center Forward

At the Croatian national team training center in Zagreb, the entire team had gathered.

However, Rakitic and Vukcevic were absent due to injuries and couldn't participate in the upcoming match against Belarus.

This gave Van Stoyak a bit of a headache.

Fortunately, Šuker and Modric were still available. As long as these two were present, Croatia wouldn't face major problems.

Van Stoyak remained very confident.

Moreover, Rakitic and Vukcevic's injuries weren't severe, and they were expected to be ready for the match against England.

If they could win this match, they would have a solid chance to clinch first place in the group and qualify directly for the World Cup, without having to compete for a spot as one of the second-placed teams.

Van Stoyak had become tougher mentally.

In the past, finishing second in the group was acceptable—just meant playing a few extra matches.

But now, as European champions, settling for second place felt beneath them.

They had to beat England, but first, they needed to comfortably win every previous match.

On the training ground, Šuker and the others were chatting.

"The Russian league is getting harder to play in, the physical confrontations are too intense," Dujmovic lamented.

Pranjic, sitting nearby, scoffed, "If you went to the Premier League, you'd get thrashed."

Dujmovic's style was a bit odd and apparently rubbed people the wrong way.

He wasn't known for fancy dribbling, but he was often easily knocked down—and opponents loved to tackle him.

Basically, Dujmovic's ball control was off—he kept the ball too loosely, which made him an easy target for tackles.

"Bah!" Dujmovic spat. "If I went to the Premier League, I'd be a tough guy!"

Everyone gave him disdainful looks.

"Look down on me?" Dujmovic pulled up his shirt to show his stomach. "See this? You better watch yourself."

Mandzukic, Srna, and others swarmed him, pulling down his shorts and tossing them around.

Dujmovic, now in bright red briefs, ran around trying to catch them.

The scene was quite embarrassing.

"Looking flashy!" Šuker commented, watching the red briefs.

Modric grinned, "Why red?"

"What color do you wear?" Šuker asked, sneaking a glance at Modric's shorts.

"Get lost!" Modric grabbed his shorts, annoyed.

Šuker could easily have pulled them down too, but didn't.

"Scared?" Šuker rolled his eyes.

Modric relaxed seeing Šuker didn't make a move.

"How's adapting to Madrid?" Modric asked.

"Not bad," Šuker shrugged. "Madrid is different from Milan; teammates aren't as close. But you know who I am—can't be doing badly."

Modric smiled.

He wasn't worried about Šuker's social skills; Šuker was a social animal who could get along anywhere.

"Ever think about joining Madrid?" Šuker teased.

Modric smiled, "You guys already have Xabi Alonso. What do you need me for?"

Šuker shrugged, "I have better chemistry with you!"

Modric raised an eyebrow, "I remember you praised Alonso's long passes after the last match."

"Just being polite!" Šuker waved it off. "Can you say Rooney is bald?"

Modric was left speechless.

"We're teammates; gotta compliment each other. Besides, Alonso's long passes are really good," Modric said, though his expression was slightly uncomfortable.

Šuker quickly added, "Of course, nowhere near as good as yours."

Modric's expression brightened.

For any midfielder, accurate long passes were a point of pride.

Later, Šuker got a call from Pirlo, who spoke sarcastically, summing up with one line:

"So… love will disappear, right?"

Šuker could only reply, "It was once there!"

"How's married life?" Šuker asked Modric.

"Nothing special, but every time I come home, it feels warm," Modric said.

Šuker smiled, "Someone leaves a light on for you, someone's waiting for you. Is that how it feels?"

Modric's eyes lit up, "Exactly."

"Bosnich is great, but..."

Šuker probed. "But what?"

Modric sighed.

"She's not good at cooking," Modric admitted.

Šuker rolled his eyes.

Bosnich was a strong woman.

In another timeline, Modric once went on strike when leaving Spurs; initially hesitant, he was finally convinced by Bosnich to jump out of the pit, which led to later Champions League success and the Ballon d'Or.

Though her tone was gentle, her personality was very strong, complementing Modric well.

Šuker also thought Modric had married well.

"And you? Since breaking up with Giselle Bonchen, no news. Lots of models are showing love from afar. Any plans?"

Modric smiled, "Not in a hurry. I'm young, no plans to marry early. Besides, I just joined Madrid—need to gel with the squad, sort endorsements, deal with La Liga, Champions League, King's Cup, plus Euro qualifiers. No time for dating. Later!"

Just as Šuker said this, something was thrown over his head.

He blankly pulled it off.

It was Dujmovic's shorts.

Everyone looked at Šuker dumbfounded.

Šuker squinted his eyes.

Mandzukic waved his hands frantically, "It wasn't intentional!"

"Tommy!" Šuker shouted, "Team up!"

Dujmovic didn't care about his shorts anymore and, with Šuker, tackled Mandzukic, starting to strip him.

Mandzukic ended up in just his briefs, looking pitiful.

Seeing that, Dujmovic felt balanced again.

The training time flew.

To prepare for Belarus, Croatia trained for a week.

This was a home game, so the pressure wasn't too heavy.

Besides, Belarus wasn't Russia; they didn't have Arshavin.

Even with Arshavin, Croatia's current strength meant they wouldn't feel much pressure.

The match took place again at Maksimir Stadium.

Both teams had taken the field.

Starting lineups:

Croatia (4-3-3):Goalkeeper: SubasicDefenders: Corluka, Simunic, Kovac, SrnaMidfielders: Dujmovic, Modric, KranjcarForwards: Perisic, Mandzukic, Šuker

Belarus (4-4-2):Goalkeeper: ZhevnovDefenders: Vikostov, Kashevski, Sonovski, SorokoMidfielders: Karachev, Omeriyanchuk, Kurch, KhlebForwards: Konirenko, Kutuzov

"This is the fourth-to-last World Cup qualifier," said Kraušić.

"We still have four games to play and remain second in the group, three points behind England."

Since losing to England last time, they had held second place.

In Group 6, other than Croatia, no other team could seriously threaten England.

So, without beating England directly, overturning the standings was nearly impossible.

Russia was also trying to shake things up, hoping to help knock England out.

But for now, Croatia was clinging tightly to the point difference.

Of course, this also put pressure on England—not widening the gap was tough for the leader.

Compared to the pursuers, leaders feel more pressure when they can't pull away.

Before kickoff, Srna, the captain, shouted loudly:

"Win this match, kill England!"

Srna was full of fighting spirit and extremely positive.

He wanted revenge for England's previous win and because England's coach was Capello.

Srna held a grudge against Capello, who had kept him on the bench for a whole year.

If Srna hadn't proactively moved to Inter Milan, he might never have broken through.

Sitting on the bench at Juventus for years would have meant fading away—at best leaving the big five leagues, at worst being done.

So Srna was always thinking about revenge and proving his worth.

On this basis, they could not afford mistakes; they had to win every match.

Belarus played more passively.

A mid-table team that had basically lost the chance to qualify.

Due to poor early results, they lost many matches they shouldn't have.

They were even held to a draw by Andorra—a fatal point lost.

Now Belarus had only a theoretical chance to qualify.

They needed to beat both Croatia and England and hope Croatia lost all four remaining matches.

Only then could they fight for second place qualification.

But this was just a theoretical possibility.

How could they beat Croatia?Even if possible, they wouldn't give up.

The key was:

"Limit Šuker!"

Karachev said this incredulously.

Many top defensive midfielders and defenders couldn't contain Šuker; what made him think he could?

But he had no choice but to try.

The players were ready; the match was about to start.

Šuker scanned the opponents, who returned wary looks.

Šuker was used to this by now.

Whistle!

The match began with Croatia kicking off.

Šuker immediately surged into the opponent's half.

Soon, he noticed Belarus players barely moved, standing firm in their half without pressing.

Croatia exchanged a few simple passes at the back, then passed to Modric.

Modric didn't rush forward but kept probing.

Van Staaik raised an eyebrow on the sideline.

"Belarus isn't attacking; they want us to attack first so they can play counterattack."

Belarus had pressure to attack.

They could only qualify by winning.

But Croatia was also under pressure.

If they failed to win, they might have to settle for second place.

Belarus was gambling that Croatia wanted first place badly.

Croatia had to attack and win.

Otherwise, they'd give up and defend stubbornly, and Croatia would suffer more.

"Those guys!"

Van Staaik narrowed his eyes.

This was unexpected.

He thought Belarus, with a slim chance, would attack wildly.

But no—they were playing it sneaky.

That said, Croatia's attack—could Belarus really withstand it?

Bang!

Modric passed the ball forward to Šuker, who was drifting inside.

Šuker controlled the ball with his back to the opponent and tried to shake off the defensive midfielder's balance.

But his waist suddenly tightened as Omeriyanchuk grabbed him firmly, refusing to let go.

Šuker increased his movement but Omeriyanchuk held on tight.

When Šuker turned, he was fouled and fell.

Whistle!

The referee blew and warned Omeriyanchuk.

The player nodded repeatedly in apology.

But who believed him?

Belarus was using fouls to stop Šuker from getting into dangerous positions.

They were determined to foul even if it meant punishment.

Šuker got up and saw Omeriyanchuk consulting with teammates.

Šuker understood immediately—it was a plan for rotating fouls.

This distracted the referee and slowed down Croatia's momentum.

But…

"Not on my watch!"

When play resumed and Modric was about to pass, Šuker shouted:

"Luka! Here!"

Modric passed immediately.

Šuker didn't wait but ran forward, shaking off the fullback and directly challenging Omeriyanchuk.

Belarus wanted to rotate fouls, but Šuker refused.

He was focused on one man.

Let's see how many cards you can take!

"Kurč! Kurč!"

Omeriyanchuk panicked seeing Šuker coming.

"You're up!" he yelled.

Kurč was still far away.

Šuker reached Omeriyanchuk first.

"Damn it!"

Omeriyanchuk tried to swipe the ball and sprint away but grabbed Šuker's shirt tightly.

The referee saw clearly the stretched shirt.

Šuker stopped and looked furious.

The referee came over.

"I already warned you once," he said, showing a yellow card to Omeriyanchuk.

Omeriyanchuk looked helpless.

If he didn't get booked, Šuker would break free.

"Kurč…"

Omeriyanchuk looked at his teammate helplessly.

"I can't catch him," Kurč said.

Omeriyanchuk getting a yellow card for a defensive midfielder so early—seven minutes into the game—was bad for Belarus.

Kraušić knew Belarus wanted to foul.

But Šuker was experienced; he actively provoked it, focused on one man, making him choose between taking cards or holding back.

What was a problem for Croatia became a problem for Belarus.

Afterward, Šuker felt much freer.

He pushed wide, received the ball, and dribbled.

Omeriyanchuk tried to tackle but Šuker suddenly did a slick side step to get past.

He looked up at the goal.

All Belarus defenders and the goalkeeper felt chills.

"He's about to shoot!"

Before they could finish speaking, Šuker quickly passed forward.

The ball slipped between the center-back and full-back.

On the right wing, 'The Knife' flashed in and finished with a precise shot—

Swish!

Perisic scored.

After scoring, Perisic looked a bit stunned.

It was his first time starting in the national team.

To score within 13 minutes made him feel surrounded by happiness.

"Nice shot!" Šuker slapped Perisic's back hard.

Perisic snapped out of his daze, excitedly running to the corner, waving his arms, shouting.

This was his first goal for the national team!

He couldn't believe it.

"Good job!" Simunic ran over from afar to celebrate.

They were both Hajduk graduates, so they shared a natural bond.

Though Simunic currently followed Šuker's lead, he was also happy for Perisic.

Šuker looked at the young Perisic.

This guy was quiet and not very likable, but very tough.

Brazil had a "Rivaldo" called "The Knife," and Croatia had Perisic called "The Knife."

Perisic just joined Club Brugge this year and was expected to perform even better.

Though not very close with Šuker, Šuker wouldn't miss any chance to use a teammate as support.

Like him or not, when on the national team, everyone worked for Šuker.

The Croatian national team grew stronger, and so did Šuker's prestige and fame.

To put it bluntly, the situation was clear.

Everyone on the national team worked for Šuker.

Most were willing.