After receiving a pass from Rothen on the wing, Julien faced Sidibe's defense directly.
The two were similar in height, with Sidibe's advantages being greater strength and speed, while Julien's advantage lay in his technical ability and quick feet unusual for his height.
Julien naturally knew how to play to his strengths and avoid his weaknesses, never giving Sidibe a chance for physical confrontation.
Using his quick feet, he continuously touched and cut the ball, using his ball control rhythm to manipulate Sidibe's center of gravity.
When Sidibe couldn't keep up, Julien poked the ball forward.
A perfect nutmeg.
The crowd erupted in celebration.
After nutmegging this future World Cup winner, Julien didn't pause, quickly cutting inside.
Faouzi Goulieri, the center-back from Lyon's academy, immediately came over to block Julien's path.
This gave Sidibe time to recover.
Julien didn't force his way through Faouzi. With Maoulida available, he had options.
As Faouzi focused on defending the outside, expecting Julien to break through, Julien cleverly flicked the ball with his left foot's outside.
He passed to Maoulida.
By now, Troyes midfielder Yamissi had also tracked back, joining defender Drouin to double-team Maoulida.
Though Maoulida's touch was rough, he was strong.
He held off Drouin while protecting the ball, waiting for Julien to make his run behind Faouzi before quickly passing it out.
Following Hadzibegic's instructions, he couldn't hold the ball for long—at most serving as a pivot point.
Julien received the ball and quickly advanced into the penalty area.
In his peripheral vision, a figure was rapidly approaching. Sidibe's speed was indeed fast enough, and he was diligent in his recovery run. Some players would have given up after being beaten.
Sidibe found his moment, thinking he had read Julien's dribbling perfectly. Without hesitation, he went for a sliding tackle.
Julien suddenly stopped and pulled the ball back.
Sidibe's tackle went wide!
Moreover, his slide had wrong-footed his own goalkeeper, Thuram-Ulien.
After Sidibe slid past, Julien flicked the ball to the side with his right foot and quickly followed up with a curling shot with his left.
The ball flew directly into the far corner!
Swoosh!
The ball hit the back of the net. The referee immediately blew his whistle, pointing to the center circle.
Julien turned and slid on his knees, rushing off the pitch.
He pumped his fist toward the stands, celebrating another goal!
"Julien!"
The fans were ecstatic. Seeing Julien score fulfilled their sixty-minute expectation.
As expected—give Julien a chance, and there's a goal!
In the stands, Châtaigner couldn't contain himself. He cheered along with the fans, shouting loudly, "I insisted on signing Julien!"
Nearby fans heard this and applauded Châtaigner. "Well done!"
"Haha, Châtaigner! Julien is stronger than you were at Bastia! He's scored in five games what took you five years!"
Châtaigner smiled broadly, responding without any displeasure, "I was a defender, he's a forward—there's no comparison!"
The entire Cesari Stadium was filled with Bastia cheers.
Troyes players shook their heads helplessly.
Especially Sidibe. The twenty-year-old, getting up from the ground, saw Julien's sliding celebration in the distance.
He felt somewhat indignant.
His mind was filled with thoughts of how to deal with Julien's breakthrough.
Even more frustrated was Cáceres. Julien had scored just five minutes after coming on as a substitute, while he had barely touched the ball.
The comparison made him look particularly poor.
On the sideline, Furlan saw Bastia's goal and touched his hair, shaking his head slightly.
During his playing career, he had also played for Bastia.
Though that was the distant 1985/86 season—just one season before transferring to Montpellier.
As a defender, he left a record of 36 games at Bastia, even scoring three goals.
Most Bastia fans didn't remember this brief stint.
He felt no attachment to Bastia either.
He just wanted to win!
His mind quickly analyzed the on-field situation. Furlan walked to the sideline, continuing to gesture for his players to attack fiercely according to the pre-match plan.
After Mohamed Camara kicked off, Troyes didn't tighten their defense around Julien as the commentator speculated, but continued to intensify their attacking efforts.
Seeing Troyes play this way, the commentator was surprised. "Isn't this just putting more pressure on young Sidibe?"
The few casual betting fans also commented, "This is heading toward a high-scoring game."
"Yeah, why would Furlan choose attacking football away from home when the opponent has brought on a player like Julien and is still giving space?"
"Looks like Julien is really going to lead everyone to profit this time. Quick, call those mates who swore never to touch Bastia again—tell them this one's absolutely certain!"
Since Julien's previous matches had tortured casual betting fans, many players had sworn off betting on Bastia.
At Sunset Coffee Bar, fans were shouting at Bertrand, "Boss! Are you still offering discounts when Julien scores this match?"
Bertrand grimaced helplessly. "You can have a discount on me."
Time reached the seventieth minute.
Julien had only been on for ten minutes but had already beaten Sidibe three or four times, nearly crushing the defender's confidence.
Though Julien's successful dribbles after his goal hadn't led to scoring opportunities, they had left Sidibe unsure how to move his feet when seeing Julien with the ball, unable to match Julien's rhythm.
Soon, after another failed Troyes attack, Bastia seized a counter-attacking opportunity.
Cahuzac played a long pass forward to Maoulida's position.
Maoulida's role as a pivot was very clear—he held off Drouin and laid the ball off to the advancing Rothen.
Rothen carried the ball forward.
Bastia pressed up completely while Troyes players were still organizing their defensive positions.
Thump!
Rothen saw Julien's run and suddenly played a through ball.
However, his through ball was slightly underhit, though it was very unexpected.
Julien instantly judged that the ball was too slow and quickly dropped back to collect it between Faouzi and Sidibe.
Then he quickly turned and advanced.
With multiple defenders focused on the right side, Julien didn't force his way inside—that would be a dead end.
He saw the large space at the edge of the penalty area.
A cross-field pass.
Maoulida had drawn men into the penalty area, while Khazri, playing on the left wing, had drifted inside right on cue.
Khazri didn't control the ball—he struck it directly!
The shot came in an instant.
Thuram-Ulien had maintained high concentration during the frequent transitions. When he saw Julien's pass, he was already prepared.
He flew out and got a hand to the ball, preserving his goal.
But Khazri's long-range shot was powerful, and Thuram-Ulien had no time for anything fancy—it was just instinctive goalkeeping.
Just as he breathed a sigh of relief, he saw a blue figure suddenly emerge from behind the defensive line.
A very bad feeling hit him.
Thuram-Ulien tried to get up quickly!
It was too late.
Swoosh!
In an instant, while Thuram-Ulien was still half-rising from the ground, he heard the sound of the ball hitting the net.
Then came the cheers of the entire stadium!
"Julien!"
"Julien again!!"
The fans were so excited their faces turned red, waving everything in their hands to express their surging emotions.
The broadcast commentator was also stunned by Julien's goal-scoring efficiency.
"Julien is going for the league's golden boot!"