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

The competition has entered its final, agonizing stage.

Thailand's climate is hot and humid, and the air above Songkhla Stadium felt like a giant steamer.

The South Korean Olympic team players were drenched in sweat, their white jerseys soaked through and clinging stickily to their backs. Their breathing was heavy, each step heavy, and their thigh muscles aching to their limit.

Physical exhaustion was one aspect, but the complete mental collapse was the real fatal blow. The 0-3 scoreline was glaringly displayed on the scoreboard, a resounding slap in the face to every South Korean player. They just wanted this humiliating match to end quickly, to return to the locker room and escape this suffocating atmosphere.

Sun Yang completely controlled the game. He received the ball in midfield without needing to make any unnecessary runs. With his left foot on the ball and his right foot lightly flicking it, he accurately passed it to Chen Binbin on the left wing.

The South Korean defenders only made a token move forward to press. Chen Binbin, not wanting to take credit, followed the coaching staff's instructions to kill time and immediately passed the ball back to Sun Yang in the middle.

After receiving the ball, Sun Yang passed it to Duan Liuyu on the right wing. The Chinese team's formation was very spread out, with eleven players passing the ball back and forth in the half. This was a blatant example of a kiting tactic.

The South Korean players were stretched thin, running all over the field. However, their footwork couldn't keep up with the speed of the ball's movement. Their formation became increasingly disorganized, with players increasingly spaced apart.

The time has come to the 89th minute.

South Korean midfielder Jung Woo-yeong received the ball in his own half. He glanced at the scoreboard, a surge of intense resentment rising within him. Even if they were to lose, they couldn't afford to lose without scoring a single goal. He decided to launch one last counter-attack, even if it was just to score a consolation goal.

Zheng Youying dribbled forward. After only two steps, a sharp, throbbing pain shot through his thigh muscles. The Thai climate, coupled with being completely outmaneuvered by the Chinese team throughout the match, had taken its toll on his stamina.

He looked up to find his teammates ahead, only to find that the forwards had long since run out of steam and were all standing outside the Chinese team's penalty area watching the show, showing no intention of making any forward runs to receive the ball.

In the half-second he hesitated, a red figure rapidly approached from his side and rear.

Sun Yang remained lurking in the central midfield, observing every move of the South Korean team. Despite possessing the seemingly inexhaustible lungs of Kante, his breathing remained steady, and his steps were as light as during the initial warm-up. Seeing Jung Woo-yeong hesitate while dribbling the ball, Sun Yang keenly seized this fleeting opportunity.

Without hesitation, he accelerated. The sudden burst of power allowed him to close the distance to Zheng Youying's blind spot in just two large strides.

Zheng Youying had just taken a step forward with the ball, preparing to launch a long pass. Suddenly, a thick thigh stretched out from the side, precisely blocking him and the ball. Sun Yang used his shoulder to exert force, and with just the most basic and reasonable collision, he knocked the exhausted Zheng Youying off balance, causing him to stumble and fall onto the grass.

The referee did not blow his whistle, but instead raised his hands to indicate that play should continue. It was a clean interception.

Sun Yang kept the ball under his feet. He didn't even look down at the ball; instead, he raised his head and scanned the South Korean team's half in the distance.

At this point, the South Korean team's formation was scattered. Because the whole team was counting on Jeong Woo-yeong's final attack, the two center-backs, Lee Sang-min and Lee Yoo-hyun, unknowingly pushed forward across most of their own half. Due to their declining physical strength and lapse in concentration, the distance between the two had widened to a huge gap of seven or eight meters.

This defensive vulnerability was glaringly obvious to Sun Yang, who had activated his full-map radar.

Sun Yang immediately raised his left hand, extended his index finger, and pointed straight at the green field between Lee Sang-min and Lee Yoo-hyun.

The skill triggers wherever you point it.

The right foot quickly follows, the outside of the instep smoothly cutting towards the bottom right side of the ball.

With a muffled thud, the ball soared into the air from Sun Yang's feet.

This was a super long pass spanning forty meters. The ball drew a straight trajectory in the air, directly over the heads of the South Korean midfield defenders, and flew precisely into the wide area behind the two center-backs.

Zhang Yuning, playing in the attacking third, was also at his physical limit. His lungs were burning with pain, and his legs felt incredibly heavy. But the moment Sun Yang intercepted the ball, he immediately recalled the domineering declaration his captain had made in the locker room during halftime.

"As long as you dare to run forward, I will definitely deliver the ball to your feet."

Zhang Yuning gritted his teeth, forcibly squeezing out the remaining explosive power from his body. He suddenly launched a forward run from Lee Sang-min's side, the offside trap tactic failed, and Zhang Yuning successfully broke the offside trap.

Lee Sang-min was startled when he noticed the Chinese striker beside him suddenly accelerate.

He quickly turned around to chase after him, but his tired legs wouldn't obey him, and his turn was a full half-beat too slow. He could only watch helplessly as Zhang Yuning shook him off and strode towards his own half of the court.

The ball, spinning sharply downwards, landed directly in front of Zhang Yuning's running path. Upon landing, it didn't bounce excessively, obediently rolling forward along the grass.

The timing, speed, and placement of that pass were perfectly timed. Zhang Yuning didn't need to slow down to adjust his pace; he simply pushed the ball forward and charged straight into the penalty area.

Another one-on-one situation.

South Korean goalkeeper Ahn Jun-soo panicked and decisively rushed out of his goal. He spread his arms and lunged at Zhang Yuning, trying to expand his defensive area and block the shooting angle.

The image of that one-on-one opportunity that was saved because of hesitation and holding onto the ball in the first half flashed quickly through Zhang Yuning's mind. He made a firm decision in his heart, determined not to fall into the same trap twice.

Facing the onrushing goalkeeper, Zhang Yuning didn't try to dribble past him or make any unnecessary feints. He simply swung his right foot and struck the ball hard in the middle with the instep.

A powerful and furious shot.

The ball skimmed along the grass with a slight whistling sound, speeding past Ahn Joon-soo's fallen feet and disappearing into the far corner of the goal.

The white net tumbled violently.

The goal stands.

The score was changed to 4-0.

The fourth official on the sidelines had just raised the electronic sign indicating three minutes of added time. This goal had utterly cemented the dignity of the entire South Korean team on the pillar of shame in Asian competitions.

In the domestic broadcast studio, He Wei's voice was hoarse from his previous shouts, but his passion remained undiminished.

"Goal! Goal! Zhang Yuning has redeemed himself."

"This was a brilliant counter-attack. Sun Yang made a decisive tackle in midfield and then delivered a 40-meter long pass that directly broke through the entire South Korean defense."

"This was a precision-guided shot worthy of being written into textbooks. Sun Yang proved to everyone that he not only has a stunning free kick, but he is also a midfield metronome who controls the entire game."

Xu Yang loudly added from the side.

"This is incredibly inspiring. Four to zero. We haven't seen such a resounding victory in a national team match in many years. And our opponent was none other than our old nemesis, South Korea. Today, Sun Yang and his teammates have completely eradicated and utterly crushed the so-called 'fear of Korea'."

The Songkhla stadium was empty of cheers from the spectators, but the celebrations from the Chinese team's bench were deafening.

Cannavaro excitedly rushed to the sidelines, waving his fists and roaring.

"Well done, play like that. Crush their last hope."

Assistant coach Mario excitedly chimed in from the sidelines in Italian.

"Fabio, this number 10 is amazing. His long pass vision and accuracy are even more incredible than Pirlo's back in the day. That 40-meter long pass, I didn't even see him look up to check beforehand. It's unbelievable."

Cannavaro turned around and patted Mario on the shoulder heavily.

"It's his gut feeling. Paul, we're witnessing the rise of a phenomenal superstar. He has a three-dimensional view of the stadium in his mind. The Arsenal management's decision to let him go will definitely be the stupidest thing they've ever done."

Zhang Yuning was overjoyed after scoring. Instead of running to the corner flag to celebrate, he turned around, spread his arms, and sprinted along the grass towards Sun Yang near the center circle.

"Yang-ge, I made it! I didn't miss this time."

Zhang Yuning roared and ran over, tackling Sun Yang to the ground. His teammates from the national Olympic team swarmed around him again, piling on top of each other like a human pyramid, freely expressing their exhilarating joy.

On the other hand, the situation for the South Korean team was completely different and miserable.

After being dispossessed, Zheng Youying knelt on the grass, covering his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

The two center-backs, Lee Sang-min and Lee Yoo-hyun, slumped on the ground, staring blankly at the ball in the net.

Goalkeeper Ahn Joon-soo lay face down on the goal line, burying his head between his arms, unwilling to get up and face this cruel reality.

Head coach Kim Hak-bum didn't even have the energy to get angry. He turned around expressionlessly, didn't say goodbye to anyone, and headed towards the players' tunnel, leaving behind only a lonely figure. He knew very well that the domestic media and angry fans would tear him apart, and his coaching career had come to a complete end the moment the fourth goal was conceded.

The game restarted. After the South Korean team kicked off, they showed no intention of advancing into the attacking third. Several midfielders passed the ball back and forth near the defensive line, mechanically wasting the last few seconds of stoppage time.

The Chinese players didn't press forward and waste their energy. Sun Yang stood near the center circle, calmly watching everything unfold.

When the time reached exactly ninety-three minutes, the referee looked at the clock on his wrist and blew the whistle to end the match.

Two short whistles and one long one. Three crisp whistle notes echoed across the empty stadium.

The match has officially ended. The Chinese Olympic team thrashed the South Korean Olympic team with a resounding 4-0 score, securing their first victory in this "group of death."

The players high-fived and hugged each other, celebrating this hard-won victory.