When playing football, you should call it GOAT.

Chapter 128 We are witnessing the birth of something extraordinary.

Cristiano Ronaldo pushed open the apartment door and casually tossed his backpack onto the sofa.

He hasn't had an easy time lately.

The paparazzi are constantly watching his every move, and he was caught red-handed shopping in Manchester a couple of days ago. Tabloid reporters are scrambling to find out about his new girlfriend, and someone even secretly slipped a note into his room offering him a six-figure sum to write his autobiography.

Facing the media, the young Portuguese seemed a bit awkward. He told The Sun that adapting to English football wasn't easy and that he needed time to adjust. But back in front of the Portuguese media, he excitedly talked about his anticipation of scoring for Manchester United in the Newcastle match, even mentioning that he hadn't yet figured out his celebration.

To his teammates' surprise, he directly asked Ferguson for a starting opportunity.

Ferguson publicly stated that he would take care of Ronaldo in the same way he protected Giggs back then.

The old man recalled that back then, Giggs would always use "the coach wouldn't allow it" as an excuse to avoid interviews.

The club has now assigned a Brazilian coach to take care of Ronaldo's daily life, since he is only 18 years old and needs guidance.

He glanced at the clock on the wall; it was 8:48, and the game had already started three minutes earlier.

He walked quickly to the TV and pressed the remote control.

The moment the screen lit up, Morientes was passing the ball back to Roy.

The Monaco number 10 didn't rush forward, but instead retreated to the vicinity of the center circle, steadily controlling the ball amidst the pressure from Bayern players.

Seeing Roy shield the ball with his body, and with Ballack and Hargreaves sandwiching him, Ronaldo deftly backheeled the ball to Pedretti.

Bayern's players pressed aggressively, but Roy remained calm throughout.

He constantly made runs to receive passes, sometimes dropping back to the defensive midfield position to help Bernardi organize the ball's path, and sometimes moving to the wing to combine with Rothen.

The commentator's voice came from the TV: "Look at Roy, this young man, he can still maintain such a clear mind in such a high-intensity game. He doesn't seem like a 19-year-old at all, he's more like a seasoned veteran."

Cristiano Ronaldo unconsciously bit his lower lip.

He noticed that Roy would always observe his teammates' positions before receiving the ball, and immediately run to the next receiving point after passing the ball.

This mature style of play is indeed in stark contrast to the media's tendency to compare him to others and his penchant for showing off his skills.

He frowned and sat down on the sofa.

He didn't really want to admit it, but deep down he did hope Bayern would win.

If Monaco is eliminated, the media won't keep comparing him to Roy.

Since the start of the Champions League group stage, whenever Roy has a standout performance, Manchester newspapers inevitably feature comparative statistics between the two players the following day.

The current situation puts even more pressure on Ronaldo. Although he scored his first Champions League goal for Manchester United, Roy's goal tally has reached an astonishing nine, a number that could potentially secure the Champions League Golden Boot in some seasons.

On TV, Roy is dribbling the ball past Bayern's midfield defense.

Cristiano Ronaldo unconsciously clenched his fist.

Commentator Martin Tyler's excited voice rang out: "Roy! It's Roy again! His performance this season has been truly amazing!"

Watching Roy skillfully dribble past a defender.

Andy Gray: "Look at Monaco's 4-3-3 formation. Deschamps puts Roy on the left wing, but in actual matches he often tucks inside and becomes a free-roaming forward. This young man has already scored 9 goals in the Champions League this season and is Monaco's biggest threat."

He recalled what his coach had told him during training: "Watch Roy's game videos and learn from his positioning."

This made him feel very uncomfortable.

The game continued, and Roy became increasingly active.

Cristiano Ronaldo leaned back on the sofa, his eyes never leaving the television.

Roy received a diagonal pass from Rothen on the edge of the penalty area and leaned against Demichelis with his back to goal.

He first feinted to the left, then suddenly turned to the right, causing Demichelis and the covering Kufur to lose their balance.

Just as the two adjusted their footwork, Roy had already skillfully turned and passed the ball to Morientes, who had made a run forward.

Morientes didn't stop the ball; he simply flicked it with the instep of his foot, and the ball returned to Roy's feet.

Facing the onrushing Kovac, Roy skillfully flicked the ball with the outside of his right foot, and the ball obediently rolled past Kovac's side.

Roy dashed into the penalty area and, despite the tight angle, unleashed a low left-footed shot.

Kahn was already on high alert. He lowered his center of gravity and spread his arms, like a tiger poised to pounce.

The ball headed straight for the near post, but Kahn made a diving save, catching the ball firmly under his body.

Taylor: "Shot! Kahn makes the save! Although it didn't go in, this attack perfectly showcased Roy's value - receiving the ball with his back to goal, turning to get past his marker, and ultimately making the final pass and shot were all orchestrated by him!"

Gray: "Martin, this young man's game intelligence is completely unlike that of a 19-year-old. Look at his eyes, he observes his teammates' positions before touching the ball every time; this awareness seems innate."

Although the shot didn't result in a goal, the audience at the Stade Louis II still applauded and cheered enthusiastically for this brilliant combination play.

Roy rubbed his nose and gave Morientes a big thumbs-up with a bright smile.

He then raised his arm and waved towards the stands, and the cheers at the Stade Louis II immediately rose another decibel.

He jogged back to the vicinity of the center circle, and could clearly feel the wary gazes from the Bayern players. Demichelis kept a distance of three meters from him, and Kuffour also glanced in his direction from time to time.

Deschamps stood on the sidelines with his hands in his pockets, his face expressionless.

Despite holding a two-goal advantage from away goals, Monaco surprisingly chose to take the initiative from the start.

This attacking tactic played right into Bayern's hands, and Hitzfeld's team played even more aggressively than in the first leg.

The game was already deadlocked in the first ten minutes, with both teams switching between offense and defense very quickly. As soon as one side lost possession, the other side would immediately launch a lightning counterattack.

The battle between Demichelis and Pedretti in midfield was particularly intense, forcing the referee to frequently interrupt the game.

Despite being heavily marked, Roy still managed to create several threats through his agile movement.

10 minutes.

Roy calmly stopped Evra's pass on the sideline, his red and white jersey standing out brightly in the sunlight.

Sagnol, the veteran of the French national team.

He immediately lowered his center of gravity and pounced forward, his face full of vigilance.

Suddenly, Roy started pedaling, left foot, right foot, left foot, three times in a row, so fast it was dizzying.

Sagnol was left scrambling after being faked out, his white shorts now covered in grass clippings.

On the third volley, the experienced right-back visibly stumbled and nearly lost his balance.

"ROI! ROI!"

The cheers at the Stade Louis II grew louder and louder.

Just as Sagnol shifted his weight, Roy gently flicked the ball with the inside of his right foot, and the ball obediently rolled sideways.

Like a nimble leopard, he darted past Sagnol in a single stride.

Almost all the Monaco fans in the stands stood up, their deafening cheers interspersed with whistles.

Sagnol turned around in a flustered manner to chase after it, but could only watch as the red number 10 disappeared into the distance.

Upon seeing this, Demichelis immediately rushed over from the edge of the penalty area to cover, and with a fierce sliding tackle, cleared the ball out of bounds.

The defense arrived just in time, but Roy's breakthrough had already set the entire stadium ablaze.

Photographers on the sidelines frantically pressed their shutters, capturing the rare look of panic on Sagnol's face.

"Brilliant defense!"

TF1 commentator Roland continued, "But Monaco, take the throw-in quickly! Rothen gets the ball and immediately crosses it!"

The ball arced towards the penalty area, and Morientes leaped high above Kuffour.

"Morientes' header! Oops, just over the crossbar!"

Roland sighed regretfully, "This attack started with Roy's breakthrough and ended with Morientes' header; Monaco's teamwork was seamless!"

Deschamps stood on the sidelines with his arms crossed and gently shook his head.

Bayern goalkeeper Kahn loudly reprimanded his defense, demanding that they stay focused.

Roy jogged back to his seat, his face expressionless.

14 minutes.

Ze Roberto dribbled down the left flank, attempting to feint past Maicon, but the Brazilian full-back was not fooled this time.

He lowered his center of gravity, seized the opportunity, and made a precise sliding tackle to cleanly and neatly steal the ball!
"Good shot! Maicon!" Deschamps pumped his fist on the sidelines, shouting encouragement.

Without pausing, Maicon got up and immediately launched a long pass to Giuly on the right wing.

Monaco's winger sprinted 40 meters towards Bayern's penalty area like an arrow, then crossed the ball into the middle!

Roy made a high-speed run, but Kovac slid in to clear the ball, sending it flying out of bounds.

In the stands, Maicon's Brazilian agent stood up excitedly and applauded.

In the previous round in Munich, Ze Roberto overwhelmed the young Maicon, and afterwards he even broke down emotionally, worried that he would never recover.

But today, he regained his confidence with this clean and decisive defensive play.

Deschamps on the sidelines was still shouting: "Keep going! Play like this!"

Maicon clenched his fists and ran back to his defensive position with a determined look in his eyes.

16 minutes.

Roy dropped back from the forward line to the center circle to receive the pass, and Ballack and Hargreaves immediately formed a double-team.

The German midfielder used his strong physique to push forward, while the English midfielder blocked the passing lanes.

Roy stumbled under the pressure of the two defenders, but quickly regained his balance. Just as he was about to lose his balance, he cleverly flicked the ball with his heel, sending it precisely through the gap between the defenders and finding the onrushing Pedretti.

"A brilliant escape!"

Deschamps on the sidelines couldn't help but applaud.

Pedretti didn't stop the ball, but sent a through pass directly, and Morientes successfully broke the offside trap to create a one-on-one opportunity.

But the experienced Kahn made a decisive move, diving to his side at the edge of the penalty area to catch the ball securely.

This is Monaco's third consecutive attack.

Compared to the first leg, Deschamps' team played much more aggressively today.

Roy even actively sought physical contact during his retreat, showing no sign of backing down in several collisions with Barak.

Hitzfeld on the sidelines frowned as he watched his midfielders struggle to gain an advantage in the scramble.

Bayern's assistant coach is loudly reminding the players to maintain their formation, but Monaco's pressing makes it difficult for the Bundesliga giants to organize effective attacks.

Roy wiped the sweat from his forehead, his eyes still focused.

The cheers at the Stade Louis II grew louder and louder, as if the home fans had a premonition of a goal.

Bayern's players clearly felt the pressure. Monaco's counter-attacks were even more incisive than in the first leg, with each interception triggering a ferocious attack on their defense like a beast unleashed.

Hargreaves, panting heavily, watched Roy drop back to receive the ball once again, while Ballack and Demichelis had to stick close to him, afraid that if they relaxed even slightly, he would turn around and get rid of them.

Just then, a unified singing suddenly erupted from the stands of the Stade Louis II, starting in a small section of the North Stand and quickly spreading throughout the entire stadium.

He stayed!
"Il nous mènera!" (He will lead us!)
"Sur sept collines, btir notre Rome!" (On seven hills, let us build our own Rome!)
This is a battle song newly composed by Monaco fans for Roy.

Despite high offers from top clubs during the summer transfer window, he chose to stay and pledged to lead Monaco to make history in European competitions.

At this moment, the song echoed in the stadium, as if injecting new energy into the home team.

The Bayern players exchanged uneasy glances.

They knew that in such a frenzied atmosphere, Monaco's every tackle would be more aggressive, and every counterattack more deadly.

Hitzfeld stood on the sidelines, his brow furrowed, sensing the tide of the game slowly turning against him.

Upon hearing the song, Roy's lips curled into a slight smile, and his eyes sharpened even more.

He raised his hand to greet the fans, then immediately threw himself into the game, as if silently replying – “I will do it.”

18 minutes.

Maicon stood like a moving wall in front of Ze Roberto.

Maicon lowered his center of gravity, watching Ze Roberto's every move like a cheetah.

The Brazilian winger first feigned a cut inside, then suddenly accelerated down the flank.

Although Maicon was half a body length away, he immediately adjusted his pace and forcefully restrained the urge to launch a flying tackle.

"A brilliant defensive choice!" the commentator exclaimed. "Maicon didn't make a rash tackle; instead, he chose to press close!"

Ze Roberto was closely marked by Maicon, and his first attempt at a cross was blocked by Maicon's body.

The second time, he tried to force a shot, but was once again beaten to the ball and blocked from the passing angle.

Boos erupted from the stands.

"What the hell!"

Ze Roberto cursed and could only pass the ball back to Lizarazu, who had made a run into the box.

Giuly immediately pressed forward, forcing the veteran Frenchman to make a hasty long pass, thus thwarting the attack.

"Maicon! Perfect defense!"

Thierry Rolland's commentary echoed through the stadium: "This young Brazilian has completely regained his confidence and is a completely different player from the first leg!"

Lizarazu's pass was intercepted by Abidal on the other side.

Roy received the ball on the left side of the center circle, and Sagnol immediately moved forward to block him.

Monaco's number 10 feigned a cut inside, then suddenly delivered a 30-meter low diagonal pass with the outside of his left foot.

The ball seemed to be under a spell as it pierced through Bayern's defense, finding Giuly making a run down the right flank with pinpoint accuracy.

"A genius's vision!" Roland exclaimed. "That pass was like it had a navigation system installed!"

Giuly dribbled into the penalty area, but Lizarazu arrived with astonishing speed and made a diving block the moment the French winger took a shot.

The ball struck Lizarazu's shin and bounced out of bounds, eliciting a collective sigh from the stands.

21 minutes.

Demichelis held onto Roy's jersey tightly in midfield, the Argentine defender's arm veins bulging, almost tearing the Monaco number 10 jersey apart.

The referee's whistle pierced the night sky, and he showed Demichelis a yellow card without hesitation.

"That's a blatant tactical foul!"

The commentator exclaimed excitedly, "Demikellis is willing to take a card to stop Roy's quick counterattack!"

Rothen stood in front of the free-kick spot, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his jersey.

He squinted to observe his teammates' runs in the penalty area, and suddenly unleashed a beautiful, curved shot.

Abidal leaped high like a spring, overpowering Kuffour to head the ball towards the edge of the six-yard box.

Just then, Roy appeared out of the crowd like a ghost!
He got ahead of everyone else, and before the ball hit the ground, he volleyed it from the side!

"BUUUUUUUT!!! Roy!!!" The commentator almost cracked his voice, "What a brilliant goal!"

Kahn tried his best to stretch his body, but this time he was too far away and fell into the goal in a sorry state.

The Stade Louis II erupted in cheers, with fans in the stands celebrating wildly, waves of red rising and falling, and deafening shouts filling the air.

The moment the ball darted into the net like lightning, a corner of the stands fell into a brief silence.

Bayern Munich manager Uli Hoeneß remained calm; Chairman Karl-Heinz Rummenigge maintained his seated posture, only the slightly constricted pupils behind his glasses betraying his inner turmoil.

The two leaders of German football, with their decades of experience and composure, transformed all the shock into a mask of calm.

In the tactical zone, the usually composed Deschamps leaped up as if he had a spring in his body. Although his raised arms were not as flamboyant as Mourinho's, his flushed cheeks and taut jawline showed rare excitement.

In the stands, Roy's girlfriend, Doutzen Klos, jumped up and down like a happy little deer.

The Dutch supermodel wore a Monaco number 10 jersey today, and playfully painted the team's red and white logo on her face. The moment the ball went into the net, she completely forgot about her image, raising her hands and cheering like an ordinary fan, her golden ponytail drawing a joyful arc in the air.

She even excitedly turned around and high-fived the fans behind her, her face painted with greasepaint sparkling under the lights, looking just like a little girl who had received her favorite toy.

However, the linesman's flag was like a bucket of cold water poured on him.

Hoeneß loosened his grip on the tie, Rummenigge let out a long sigh and leaned back in his chair; Deschamps's celebratory gesture froze in mid-air, eventually turning into a helpless shrug; Hitzfeld opened his tightly closed eyes, his gaze behind his glasses sharpening once more.

The referee blew his whistle to disallow the goal, and the linesman signaled that Abidal was indeed half a body length offside at the moment Rothen took the free kick. "What a pity!"

The commentator sighed, "This goal was a work of art; the free-kick combination and the volley were both flawless, but it was offside."

The broadcast camera slowly focused on Roy.

He was bent over, his hands resting on his knees, panting heavily. Sweat streamed down his face, gathering into glistening beads on his chin, his sharply defined features glowing with a healthy sheen.

Roy straightened up, wiped the sweat from his face, and suddenly grinned at the goal. He pointed his index finger lightly in Kahn's direction, a mischievous glint in his eyes, as if to say, "You won't be so lucky next time."

The camera cuts to Kahn, whose expression instantly tenses up.

He pursed his lips, his brows furrowed slightly, and his grey-blue eyes were fixed on Roy like a predator spotting its prey. Although his lips twitched slightly, there was a clear hint of wariness in his smile.

His young opponent's composure made him uneasy.

Kahn subconsciously adjusted the position of his gloves, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he were swallowing some ominous premonition.

23 minutes.

Roy deftly controlled Pedretti's pass in the center circle, and Ballack immediately pounced on him aggressively.

The German midfielder's tall frame stood like a wall in front of him, but Roy simply lowered his shoulder, gently flicked the ball past Ballack with the outside of his right foot, and glided past him like flowing water.

"Fried meatballs!" the commentator exclaimed.

Demichelis came to cover from the side, but Roy was prepared. He flicked the ball with his left foot and pushed it with his right, sending the ball between the Argentine's legs.

Demichelis turned around in a flustered manner, only to grasp at thin air.

"He's dancing!" Thierry Rolland's voice almost ripped through the microphone. "Barack and Demichelis are like two wooden stakes!"

Roy dribbled forward at high speed, while Sagnol retreated while fighting back, not daring to make a move easily.

With the penalty area within reach, Roy suddenly accelerated and changed direction. Sagnol gritted his teeth and made a sliding tackle, accurately poking the ball out of bounds with his toe.

Inside the private box, Abramovich leaned forward slightly, his eyes focused.

Chelsea CEO Peter Kenyon, who was standing next to him, whispered something, but Abramovich just shook his head slightly, his gaze fixed on Roy.

"This is the player I want."

Abu muttered under his breath, his tone clearly disdainful: "Mutu is nothing compared to him."

Kenyon, standing to the side, raised an eyebrow but didn't reply.

Mutu is currently embroiled in a scandal. Israeli supermodel Atiyas just broke up with him and then revealed in a gossip magazine that she met Roy at a party after Israel's European Championship qualifier against France.

"That Monaco number 10," Atiyah said without reservation in the interview, "the way he stands on the field is like a sword drawn from its sheath."

She added regretfully that despite her repeated hints, Roy seemed completely unmoved.

"Honestly, he looks so sexy, I'm really curious. Is he this aggressive in other places too?"

"However, I hope that one day he will change his mind."

Marina coughed lightly, drawing the boss's attention back to the game.

Abu stared at the red and white figure on the field and muttered viciously, "At least this kid has better judgment than Mutu."

Marina Granovskaia.

This assistant, who would later be known as "Sister No" by fans, quietly took note of her boss's words.

She glanced at Roy on the field, then quickly wrote a few lines in her notebook.

The corner kick was taken, and Morientes suddenly burst out from the crowd, overpowering Hargreaves to head the ball into the goal!

"Goalpost!!!" Roland exclaimed as the ball grazed the post and went wide.

Deschamps held his head in disappointment on the sidelines, while Hitzfeld angrily berated Hargreaves.

Inside the private room, Abu slowly leaned back in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest, his eyes thoughtful.

25 minutes.

Bayern launched a quick counter-attack, with Ballack playing a through ball from midfield to Hargreaves.

At this moment, the camera captured an amazing scene: Roy, who was originally in the forward position, chased back like an arrow!
"Look at how they're running!"

Roland exclaimed, "The transition from offense to defense is absolutely amazing!"

Just as Pizarro was about to receive the ball, Roy pounced on it and passed it to Squillaci.

After completing the defensive play, he bent over, panting heavily, the sweat on his forehead glistening under the light.

Prolonged applause erupted from the stands.

27 minutes.

Bayern's penalty area is in complete chaos.

Roy and Rothen exchanged three consecutive one-touch passes on the left flank, the ball seemingly drawn to their feet by magnets, each touch breathtakingly precise.

During their third combination, Roy suddenly lunged forward, and Kovac hastily covered for him, only to see Monaco's number 10 poised to unleash a powerful shot with his right foot.

"A feint!"

Roy flicked his ankle, and the ball rolled along the grass toward the center.

Morientes arrived in time and poked the ball in from close range!

Kahn instinctively stretched out his leg again, and the ball slammed against his shin guards and bounced out of bounds.

Kufur and Demichelis immediately launched into a heated argument.

The Ghanaian center-back pointed at the Argentine's nose and roared, "You fucking missed your man again!"

Demichelis retorted defiantly, "You're the one who should be filling my spot!"

Hitzfeld stood on the sidelines, his face ashen.

From the opening whistle until now, Monaco's attack has been like wave after wave, constantly assaulting Bayern's crumbling defense.

Ronaldo's presence was everywhere, and every time he touched the ball, Bayern players felt like they were facing a formidable enemy.

The Monaco fans in the stands went wild; they sensed a goal was in the air.

The cheers at the Stade Louis II rose higher and higher, and red and white flags surged like waves in the stands.

Kahn got up from the ground and roared at the defense: "You fucking better get your act together!"

But even in the voice of this iron-willed goalkeeper, there was a hint of barely perceptible anxiety.

A storm is coming.

29 minutes.

Bayern finally launched their sharpest counter-attack since the start of the game!

Makaay received a through ball from Ballack on the edge of the penalty area, made a clever turn past Squillaci, and unleashed a powerful shot.

"boom!"

The ball slammed against the left post of the Roma stadium and bounced back to the edge of the six-yard box.

Sagnol surged forward like a ghost, deftly flicking his right foot to shake off Abidal's diving attack, and then unleashing a low shot with his left foot!

Monaco goalkeeper Roma almost instinctively stretched out his right leg, and the ball barely hit his shin guard and bounced out of bounds.

The Bayern substitutes jumped up instantly, Hoeness's smile in the stands froze, and Rummenigge's fist, which was already half-raised, froze in mid-air.

On the sidelines, Deschamps clenched his fists tightly, and the veins on his forehead bulged.

He charged to the sideline like an enraged lion, roaring hoarsely at the players on the field: "Counterattack! Counterattack now!"

His roar even drowned out the noise from the stands, and his suit and tie were flung behind his shoulders.

Assistant coach Jean Petit quickly grabbed his arm, fearing that the young coach might rush onto the field in a fit of excitement.

Deschamps then reluctantly retreated to the technical area, but his eyes remained fixed on the attacking third.

When the broadcast cameras captured this moment, commentator Thierry Rolland couldn't help but laugh: "Look at Deschamps! This usually refined young coach is even more excited than the players on the field at this moment!"

Boos came like a tidal wave from the Stade Louis II.

Every time a Bayern player touches the ball, a piercing scream erupts from the stands.

Sagnol covered his ears and ran back to the defensive line, shouting to Hargreaves, "This godforsaken place is deafening!"

Before the Bayern players could even catch their breath, Squillaci had already launched a long ball forward.

Evra sprinted down the left flank like a cheetah, and Monaco's counterattack horn sounded once again!

Squillaci's long pass flew like a cannonball down the left flank of the attacking third. Evra made a lightning-fast run and, just as the ball was about to go out of bounds, gently poked it with his toe.

The ball rolled along the sideline towards Roy!

Roy's start was as fast as a pebble launched from a slingshot.

The moment the outside of his right foot touched the ball, he had already sprung forward.

The moment Roy started his run, the entire Bayern defense was desperately trying to catch up.

Kufur's long legs took long strides, Demichelis gritted his teeth and sprinted forward, and Sagnol even tilted his body to an almost 45-degree angle.

Their sneakers dug deep marks in the grass, like four high-powered sports cars.

But Roy's speed is completely illogical.

His first two steps were like a sprinter's start, and his third step had already allowed him to overtake Kuffour.

The Ghanaian center-back's pupils suddenly contracted. He clearly saw Roy still two meters away, but in the blink of an eye, the red and white number 10 had already left him half a body length behind.

What's most terrifying is Roy's acceleration method.

Other players need five or six steps to reach top speed, but he only needs three.

When Sagnol finally pushed his stride frequency to its limit, Roy's dribbling speed was still increasing.

The French full-back could clearly hear his lungs bursting with gasps, while his opponent seemed to have a turbocharger, widening the distance with every step.

The broadcast cameras captured a horrifying scene: as Roy completed the overtaking maneuver, Demichelis' left leg muscle visibly twitched as he forcefully twisted to chase back.

This detail made Hitzfeld clench his fists on the sidelines. It wasn't that his players weren't trying; they were simply encountering a speed monster beyond their comprehension.

Sagnol reacted the fastest, but by the time he turned to chase back, Roy was already two body lengths ahead. The French full-back gritted his teeth and accelerated desperately, only to find in despair that the distance was still widening.

Roy's pace was astonishingly fast; each step felt like stepping on springs, and the grass beneath his feet seemed to have become a trampoline.

As Roy reached the edge of the penalty area, he suddenly braked hard.

His body came to a sudden stop as if a pause button had been pressed, while Sagnol, propelled forward by inertia.

Before his opponent could even adjust his balance, Roy's feet had already swept across the ball three times in quick succession, the movements so fast they left afterimages.

"This isn't cycling at all," the commentator's voice trembled, "it's a fucking electric fan!"

By the time the third feint was completed, Sagnol had completely lost his balance.

The experienced veteran, like a child learning to play football, had his legs comically intertwined, and in the end, he could only reach out in vain to grab Roy's clothes, but couldn't even touch a piece of fabric.

"He's dancing!" the commentator shouted hoarsely.

Roy feigned a cross with his right foot, but at the moment of contact, he subtly flicked the ball with the instep of his foot, and the ball passed through Sagnol's legs like a ghost!

Inside the penalty area, Demichelis and Kuffour simultaneously made sliding tackles, but Roy turned gracefully as if dancing a waltz, and made a cross with his right foot.

Kahn has lunged towards the near post!

In a flash, Roy's right ankle suddenly twitched!
The ball traced a strange arc, rolling along the grass towards the far post.

Kahn scrambled to turn and dive back, but his glove barely grazed the ball.
“BUUUUUUUT!!!”

The entire Stade Louis II erupted in a frenzy! A sea of ​​red and white surged through the stands, and the roar of the fans shook the glass.

Doutzen Kloes sprang up from her seat like a little girl, her blonde ponytail tracing a dazzling arc in the air. She completely forgot that she was wearing a custom-made dress worth five thousand euros. Her knee slammed into the seat next to her, and the overturned drink cup splashed Coke all over the hem of her dress.

"Aaaaaah, Roy!!!"

She screamed and waved her arms, the carefully applied red and white face paint smudged with sweat, but it only made her blue eyes shine even brighter.

Several Monaco fans around her were startled by her sudden outburst, and then burst into laughter.

Just then, a shrill female voice came from the next stand: "Husband! Look here, husband!"

Du Chen turned his head and saw three young girls wearing Roy's jerseys, blowing kisses wildly at the field.

Her smile suddenly froze on her face, and she slowly lowered her hand, which was halfway up.

"Hey, don't take it to heart," the middle-aged fan next to me grinned, beer foam still clinging to his beard. "Girls all over Europe have their eyes on your guy!"

He lowered his voice and gestured towards the private room: "It's not just the girls, that Russian guy from Chelsea is practically bulging his eyes out, and Sir Alex Ferguson from Manchester United has been waiting like crazy all summer."

An elderly woman in the front row of the stands suddenly turned her head and interjected: "My grandson is a Real Madrid fan, but he put Roy's poster in the very center and then cut out other people's jerseys and stuck them on his clothes. What a silly child!"

The middle-aged man watched the celebrating figures on the field and suddenly sighed, "I just hope that this time next year, he'll still be wearing that red and white jersey."

He quickly stopped mid-sentence, awkwardly adding, "Of course, with such a beautiful girl like you around, he definitely wouldn't want to leave!"

Before the man could finish speaking, Du Chen gently shook his head: "But I'm Dutch."

"A Dutchman?" The man paused, then raised an eyebrow and said half-jokingly, "He wouldn't transfer to Ajax, would he?"

Meanwhile, Roy was being celebrated with his teammates pinning him down on the field, completely unaware of the little jealousy saga unfolding in the stands.

In Munich's beer hall, the once noisy hall suddenly fell silent.

The arm holding the beer glass froze in mid-air, and no one noticed the golden liquid dripping from the rim.

In China, coach Tao Wei stared at the TV screen and muttered to himself, "Bayern! There's still plenty of time, score one!"

The ball lay quietly in the net as Roy charged toward the corner flag.

He pulled at the team badge on his chest and spread his arms wide towards the stands.

This action caused a tsunami of noise to erupt throughout the stadium, completely drowning out the referee's whistle.

That's the magic of football. When you deliver a truly great performance, not only will your fans go wild for you, but even the opposing team's fans will etch your name into their memories.

At this moment, in Munich, in BJ, and in Tokyo, the same sigh echoes in the living rooms of countless Bayern Munich fans.

They may never support Monaco in their lifetime, but every time they see the red and white jerseys in the future, they will occasionally recall the moment on that night when they were dominated by Monaco's number 10.

It's worth noting that Bayern Munich's fan base ranks among the top five in global football.

A player who can silence such a massive fan base, and even evoke lingering fear years later, is a rare breed, appearing only a handful in any era.

The broadcast camera slowly panned across the stands, settling on the stunned faces of the Bayern Munich fans.

Their expressions seemed to say: We are witnessing the birth of something extraordinary.

Hitzfeld was furious on the sidelines, his roar even drowning out the cheers of the home fans: "Get the fuck in there! Counter-attack! Counter-attack!"

The German coach loosened his tie and clapped his hands vigorously, as if he could instill fighting spirit into the players' hearts.

At the same time, Deschamps shouted hoarsely at the field: "Stay focused! Don't let your guard down!"

His eyes were bloodshot, like a fierce beast protecting its cubs. "Let them see the spirit of Monaco!"

Roy wiped the sweat from his face and slowly walked towards the center circle.

As he passed Morientes, the Spanish striker gave him a hard ruffled ruffled hair: "Kid, you've stirred up a hornet's nest."

Roy just smiled, but his eyes grew even sharper.

"I keep reminding myself: We fucking deserve to win!"

Everyone could feel that the red and white storm was gathering again over the Stade Louis II.

When the Bayern players kicked off, the cheers from the stands suddenly rose an octave.

Monaco fans stomped their feet and pounded their fists on the seats, causing the entire stadium to tremble slightly with their shouts.

The broadcast camera panned across the away team's stands, where Bayern Munich fans who had traveled from afar were nervously biting their nails, some even beginning to pray.

The storm is far from over.

(There's still a small part left, I'll finish writing and posting it after I finish the post-match reaction. Sorry, something came up and I didn't finish.)

(End of this chapter)