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

He was tackled to the ground for the fifth time, ball and all, onto the grass.

Sun Yang lay on the ground, panting heavily, his chest heaving. These five virtual giants, at the level of the top five European leagues, were utterly unreasonable. Their muscle density was immense; once they surrounded him, blocking passing lanes, he couldn't withstand the attack simply by shielding the ball.

Sixty-five points in physical attributes is far too weak in the face of this level of strangulation.

Sun Yang got up, wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and his mind raced.

A direct physical confrontation is definitely not going to work. The techniques Klinsmann had taught me kept replaying in my mind. In the penalty area, it's not about who's stronger, but about who knows better how to disrupt the opponent's balance.

Use their strength. Learn to use the defender's body as a support point.

"One more time. Serve." Sun Yang issued the command to the system.

The ball flew in from the right with a strong downward arc. Two virtual center-backs closed in from the front and back. This time, Sun Yang didn't try to head-on against the big man behind him.

He leaned back slightly, his back pressed against the burly man's broad chest. Just as the man was about to exert force to push him forward, Sun Yang suddenly withdrew half of his strength and slightly shrank his body downwards.

The defender behind him lost his balance and involuntarily leaned forward. Taking advantage of this momentum, Sun Yang suddenly exerted force from his waist and abdomen. His shoulder precisely caught under the armpit of the defender in front of him, and he leaped into the air with a powerful push off the ground with his right foot.

A muffled thud.

Sun Yang managed to get a glancing touch on the ball between the two burly men. His forehead made intense contact with the ball, changing its trajectory and sending it flying into the top corner.

"Goal is valid." The system's mechanical voice announced.

Sun Yang staggered a couple of steps after landing before regaining his balance, his outer thigh throbbing from the impact. Although he had scored, he knew very well that it was a 50/50 goal won entirely through anticipation and power generation. If the opponent had anticipated his shift in center of gravity, he would still have been knocked away.

The aerial combat power generation mechanism taught by Klinsmann requires hundreds or even thousands of actual combat experiences to truly master. Given his current physical condition, using this technique is still somewhat difficult for him.

Exit the system dream.

It was already daylight outside. The first round of the Asian Cup group stage had concluded, and the situation in Group C, the so-called "group of death," had completely exceeded the expectations of all Asian media outlets.

China thrashed South Korea 4-0, topping the group with three points and a four-goal difference. Meanwhile, Uzbekistan U23 and Iran U23 finished their matches a few hours earlier, drawing 1-1 and each earning one point, placing them second and third respectively. South Korea sits at the bottom with zero points.

Three days later, the Chinese team will face their second tough battle against Uzbekistan, the Central Asian powerhouse.

In a hotel on the other side of Songkhla.

The meeting room for the Uzbekistan U23 coaching staff was dimly lit, with thick curtains drawn. A bright projector beam shone on the screen, and head coach Drulovic bit his thumbnail, his brow furrowed in a deep frown.

The screen was playing a video clip of yesterday's match between the Chinese and South Korean teams. Next to it were several DVDs containing footage of Sun Yang playing for Borussia Dortmund in the Bundesliga and Champions League.

Assistant coach Tassiev, holding a tactical pointer, pressed the pause button.

The camera lingered on the moment when Sun Yang held off the South Korean center-back and unleashed a powerful shot.

"Coach, you see. It's pointless to assign a defender to mark him closely." Tassiev swallowed hard. "This Chinese number 10 is too solid in the lower body. We've studied his game against Paris Saint-Germain. Even against a defense of Thiago Silva's caliber, he can shoot with ease. We simply can't handle him in midfield."

Drulovic leaned back in his chair, irritably ripping open his shirt collar.

"This isn't even an Asian-level player. Good heavens, he's a Bundesliga starter. His 40-meter long pass to the center forward is more accurate than any throw we've ever made with our hands." Drullovic slammed his fingers on the table. "If we pile up our players in the middle to challenge him, he can easily tear through our defense. If we don't challenge him, he just blasts our goal apart with long-range shots from outside the box."

The technical analysts in the conference room fell silent. After watching several of Sun Yang's games overnight, they felt increasingly hopeless. Whether it was his efficient interceptions on the defensive end or his flawless passing on the offensive end, this man was simply a monster without any blind spots.

Tassiev opened a thick data report on the table and pulled out a sheet of paper covered in red marks.

"Coach, he's not without weaknesses. We used software to analyze all his touches throughout his career," Tassieev said, pushing the paper towards Drullovic. "We found his weakness. A fatal weakness."

Drulovic sat up abruptly.

"Look here," Tassiev said, pointing to several sets of figures on the report. "Sun Yang's average number of aerial duels per game is only 0.4. And his success rate in aerial duels is less than 15%. Moreover, he has not scored a single header in his goal-scoring record."

Drulovich's eyes lit up, and he snatched the report to examine it carefully.

"He doesn't like aerial duels. And he's 1.85 meters tall and weighs 80 kilograms," Tassieev continued his analysis. "In European football, that physique is considered too thin for a tall striker. Dortmund has strong ball control in midfield, so he doesn't need to fight for high balls. But in the Chinese team, it's completely different."

Tassiev pulled up the Chinese team's roster and circled a few times on it.

"Besides the center forward Zhang Yuning, the Chinese team has two center backs who are over 1.85 meters tall, but the rest of the players' aerial defense is quite average. On the other hand, the average height of our Uzbek team is four centimeters taller than that of the Chinese team."

Drulovich stood up, walked around the table, and his face gradually became excited.

"Our two starting center-backs are 1.89 meters and 1.91 meters tall, respectively. We also have a center forward, Abdikholikov, who is 1.90 meters tall," Drulovic clapped his hands. "No matter how amazing his footwork or how accurate his long passes are, he still has to solve problems on the ground. As long as we keep the ball in the air, his footwork will be useless."

The tactics board was pushed to the front. Drulovic picked up a red marker and drew several thick, long lines on it.

"Abandon the ground battles in midfield. From the start, launch long balls forward. High balls down the flanks," Drulovic's voice rose. "We're going to use our height and strength to overwhelm them. Pile the ball into the box until they make a mistake. And by the way, send our strongest defensive midfielder to mark Sun Yang the entire game. He doesn't need to tackle; he just needs to use his body to knock him down in the air. Completely shatter his proud passing rhythm."

The atmosphere within the Uzbekistan coaching staff immediately lightened. They felt they had found the ultimate key to conquering this hellish challenge. Football is inherently a brutal sport that emphasizes physical confrontation. No matter how refined the technique, it will falter against overwhelming aerial attacks and hand-to-hand combat.