Football: He suffered a broken leg at the start of the game, but partnered with Haaland!

In the next twenty minutes, Sun Yang completely disrupted the entire match.

If any advanced tactical maneuver he doesn't understand occurs, he will immediately stop the match and go directly to ask the person involved.

In the 65th minute, Carlos sprinted 60 meters down the wing to complete a defensive recovery. Sun Yang shamelessly ran over to Carlos for a timeout and brazenly asked him for advice on breathing rhythm control for wing players, and how to quickly recover anaerobic energy during such high-intensity shuttle runs.

In the 72nd minute, Maldini's subtle positioning completely blocked Klinsmann's path to receive the ball. Sun Yang stopped the game again and ran to Maldini to humbly ask for advice on how to predict a striker's running direction by observing the angle of their shoulder.

The four superstars were utterly helpless against Sun Yang's shameless "freeloading" attitude. However, constrained by the system rules, they could only reluctantly offer the most professional answers to the host's questions.

The score of the match had unknowingly become 1-2. The white team was behind.

But Sun Yang didn't care about the numbers on the scoreboard at all. His mind was now filled with the top tactical concepts and individual skills in modern football.

He felt like a dried-up sponge, frantically absorbing all the knowledge these football legends had gained in their lifetimes on this virtual football field.

The match has reached the 85th minute.

Sun Yang made a defensive mistake, deliberately pulling down the Red Team forward 30 meters outside the penalty area arc.

The referee promptly blew his whistle, awarding the red team a direct free kick in an excellent position.

This distance is too far for most players, and a direct shot would hardly pose a real threat. But at this moment, the player standing in front of the ball for the Red Team is Roberto Carlos.

All the fans in the stands stood up in unison.

Carlos carried the ball to the penalty spot. He placed the ball on the grass and carefully rotated it until the inflation hole was aligned with him, then straightened up with satisfaction.

Immediately afterwards, Carlos began to retreat.

He retreated very far, covering more than ten meters in one go, almost touching the edge of the center circle.

Those calf muscles, thicker than an average person's thighs, were clearly visible beneath the socks. Carlos took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the corner of the goal behind the wall, preparing to launch his signature long run-up.

"System, pause!"

The shouts were stuck in the throats of the fans. Dewdrops on the grass hung suspended in mid-air. Time and space seemed to stand still.

Sun Yang pushed aside his white team teammates, squeezed out of the wall of players, and shamelessly jogged all the way to the vicinity of the center circle, standing directly in front of Carlos.

"Coach Roberto," Sun Yang grinned, "Release the freeze."

Carlos stretched his neck in exasperation, veins bulging on his bald head.

"Dude, what are you doing? This is a free kick! You're interrupting me to get into position before I take it?" Carlos spread his hands, almost cracking with anger.

"I'm really sorry, Roberto, but you have to teach me." Sun Yang pointed to the ball 30 meters away. "David Beckham taught me to use the inside of my foot to create the ultimate curve, and Batistuta taught me to unleash a powerful shot."

"But your kicking style is outrageous." Sun Yang gestured to the distance of over ten meters. "Why are you backing up so far? Your posture completely ignores the laws of physics. Are you trying to kick the ball to pieces?"

Carlos raised an eyebrow when he heard Beckham and Batistuta's names.

"David's free kick was indeed beautiful; it was a precise art of aiming. Batistuta's powerful shot was also a decent finishing move. But mine is different." Carlos walked to the ball and patted his thick left leg forcefully.

"This isn't art; this is the purest form of violent destruction. On the football field, you can't just rely on skills. When you encounter an impenetrable wall, you need to use the most primal force to destroy the opponent's defense."

Carlos rearranged the ball and pointed to the inflation hole to explain to Sun Yang.

"I stepped back so far to maximize my sprint speed. My lower leg swing is actually not that big; the core is all in the last three steps of the run-up. In those three steps, I have to squeeze out every last bit of kinetic energy from my entire body."

Carlos slowed down and made a supporting motion as if he was about to shoot.

"The moment you stomp your foot down, you need to stomp so hard that you create a crater in the grass! Lean your body back at an exaggerated angle and swing your leg out like a whip. Remember, the point of impact is not the bottom of the ball, but slightly below the valve stem."

Carlos slammed his finger into the ball.

"Use the hardest bone on the outside of your instep to strike it. Don't think about spin. All you have to do is put the power into the ball, let it tear through the air at high speed, and create irregular resistance that the goalkeeper has to guess."

Carlos raised his head and looked directly into Sun Yang's eyes.

"Don't be afraid of breaking your toes, and don't worry about how good your form is. The moment the instep touches the ball, give it your all and slam it down! Kick it like it's your father's killer!"

This is a power generation method completely different from the Bass curve. One uses extreme rotation to control the landing point, while the other uses pure brute force to create an unpredictable trajectory.

Sun Yang stood aside, mimicking Carlos's stance, and suddenly swung his right leg to kick the air, savoring the explosive feeling of concentrating all his kinetic energy into a single point.

A tremendous sense of accomplishment filled his chest.

"I understand. Thank you, Coach Roberto." Sun Yang breathed a sigh of relief and obediently returned to the wall, standing shoulder to shoulder with Klinsmann.

"System, resume the match. Let me see for myself just how deadly that powerful shot really is."

A gentle breeze swept across the grass at San Siro once more. A tremendous roar erupted like a tsunami.

The referee blew his whistle.

In the distance, Carlos roared into action like a heavy tank with its brakes released. His rapid, explosive strides sent grass clippings and dirt flying everywhere.

With his final step, Carlos leaned dramatically backward, his left leg transforming into a long, steel whip, which he swung in a wide arc and slammed into the ball.

"Bang--!"

A dull thud echoed through the stadium.

The ball barely spun; it was like a discarding sabot bullet just fired, whistling sharply through the air, hurtling straight toward Sun Yang's face at a speed defying the laws of visual perception.