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

Back at the Crowne Plaza Songkhla Hotel, it was already late at night.

The bus came to a stop at the main entrance, and the young men of the national Olympic team, carrying their equipment bags, entered the hotel lobby one after another. At this time in the past, the young players who had won the game would have been unable to contain themselves, gathering in groups of three or five, clamoring to go to the nearby convenience store to buy snacks, or huddling together in someone's room to play games together, the loud music playing until midnight.

The lobby was unusually quiet today.

Everyone received their room keys, and without anyone leaving the group, they all tacitly headed straight for the group exercise and recovery area upstairs.

Several Chinese physiotherapists accompanying the Chinese team had already prepared ice buckets filled with ice and rows of massage beds in the recovery area.

As soon as Zhang Yuning entered, he stripped down to only his shorts and gritted his teeth as he stepped into the half-person-high ice bucket. The icy water reached above his thighs, and he gasped for breath, his teeth chattering, but he stubbornly refused to jump out. He turned to talk to Zhu Chenjie, who was next to him draining lactic acid.

"Old Zhu, my legs are killing me today. I felt like my lungs were going to explode in those last twenty minutes. If it weren't for Yang controlling the ball and dribbling around in midfield, we would have been overwhelmed by those big guys from Uzbekistan."

Zhu Chenjie nodded, drenched in sweat.

"That's right. In the past, when we played these kinds of matches, our formation would completely fall apart after the 70th minute of the second half, and everyone would just run around aimlessly. Today, I managed to keep the defense airtight thanks to Yang-ge's instructions. Playing with Yang-ge makes me especially clear-headed."

As the young men were chatting, the physiotherapist came over with a fascia gun and began to deeply relax their thigh muscles.

At that moment, the glass door to the recovery area was pushed open. Sun Yang walked in.

He had just changed into dry workout clothes in his room. Catherine followed behind him, carrying a specialized metal medical kit. Catherine was not only Sun Yang's personal therapist but also his girlfriend. This young woman held a genuine master's degree in sports rehabilitation from a top European institution. She was usually meticulous and efficient, and in private, she took very good care of Sun Yang's daily life.

When the team members saw Sun Yang enter, they all stopped what they were doing to greet him.

"Yang-ge is here."

"Hello, Captain."

Sun Yang smiled and nodded, then walked to the empty massage bed at the very back and lay down.

Catherine opened the metal case, took out a professional fascia knife, poured on some special essential oil, and skillfully pushed, pulled, and scraped the muscles of Sun Yang's lower back and legs. Her technique was precise and ruthless, hitting deep pain points. Sun Yang buried his face in the pillow, clenched his teeth, and endured the pain without making a sound.

"Yang, you ran more than ten kilometers today, and your anaerobic sprints were 15 percent more than last time. Your muscles are fatigued right now, and you must refrain from any additional high-intensity activities tonight." Catherine spoke fluent English, her tone carrying the uncompromising authority of a professional physical therapist.

Sun Yang replied sullenly.

"Understood, boss. I promise I'll be very careful, even when I turn over in bed tonight."

Looking at Sun Yang's broad back with its well-defined lines and not an ounce of excess fat, and then at the highly professional setup of his private team, the young players around him felt a mix of emotions.

Yang Liyu swallowed hard, secretly stuffing the bag of spicy strips he was about to pull out back into his pocket. He walked to another empty bed and waved loudly to Lao Li, the Chinese physiotherapist.

"Dr. Li, could you please use that fascia scraper on me too? I'm not afraid of pain, please scrape hard!"

Old Li was delighted.

"Did the sun rise in the west? Weren't you pampered soldiers the most afraid of pain? You'd whimper for ages just to get a plaster applied."

Cannavaro and assistant coach Mario stood outside the recovery area, looking through the glass at the bustling activity inside.

Mario crossed his arms and shook his head repeatedly in amazement.

"Fabio, did you see that? These Chinese kids actually volunteered for extra training to recover. Two weeks ago, they would have been eating those weird-smelling fried junk foods and discussing how to beat their video games tonight."

Cannavaro stroked the stubble on his chin and smiled knowingly.

"That's the power of role models. When you have a true professional player on your team, others will unconsciously feel ashamed and look up to him."

"What Sun Yang brought to this team was not only absolute tactical dominance, but more importantly, a reshaping of their professional attitude. These young men are actually quite good; they just never knew what real modern professional football is like. Sun Yang opened their eyes."

The two chatted for a few more minutes in the corridor before turning back to the coaching staff's meeting room to prepare for editing and reviewing the video of their next opponent's game overnight.

After Sun Yang finished a full set of deep muscle relaxation therapy and returned to his bedroom, the clock on the wall already pointed to one o'clock in the morning.

Catherine tidied up her tools and brought him a cup of warm nutritional recovery fluid.

"Drink up and go to sleep. Cannavaro has scheduled tomorrow's training for 10 a.m. You have eight hours of deep sleep. Goodnight, darling."

Catherine leaned down and kissed Sun Yang on the forehead before turning around and closing the door.

The room fell silent. Sun Yang leaned against the headboard, gulped down the nutrient solution, and closed his eyes.

Consciousness directly sank into the system space.

Enter the post-match system reward moment.

"Ding, the system has detected that the host has won a victory in a real-world official competition. 3 points have been credited to your account."

"Current total points: 30 points."

Sun Yang felt a surge of relief. Thirty points meant he could start three more Dream All-Star matches at any time, taking advantage of retired legends. His VIP private lessons with Maldini and Van Basten halfway through the last match had given him a huge taste of real-world success. These thirty points were his strongest trump card for further advancement.

The system's mechanical voice continued to broadcast.

"Host detected a winning streak leading the team, excellent performance. Reward: 3 free attribute points."

Sun Yang immediately pulled up his personal panel. He stared at his worst stat: Physics 65.

All other data are sufficient for the Asian level, but this physical attribute seems weak.

The next opponent is the Iranian team. Those Persian warriors are physically imposing, and their tackles are notoriously rough and even dirty. It will definitely be a brutal, hand-to-hand battle. If you fall behind in physical confrontations, even the best passing skills won't be effective.

"System, add all three points of free attribute to the body options," Sun Yang decisively issued the command.

"Host instructions received. Attribute allocation in progress."

"Physical attributes: increased from 65 to 68."

The instant the skill point was added, Sun Yang felt a surge of intense heat rise from deep within his spine, burning his way through his limbs and bones. A subtle, tingling sensation spread through his bones. This was followed by a throbbing pain as his muscle fibers were being forcibly stretched and reorganized.

He clenched his fists tightly on the bed, the muscles on his upper arms bulging high with the movement, like hard stones. Although his physique hadn't become exaggeratedly bulky like a bodybuilder's, the definition and firmness of his muscles had noticeably improved.

Sun Yang rolled out of bed and made a few feints to start his explosive run.

The surge of power gave him a strange feeling; now, even if a 1.9-meter center-back charged at him, he could withstand the impact and pass the ball. This enhancement wasn't just about external impact resistance, but also a deep strengthening of his core ligaments. This represented a qualitative leap in his ability to execute moves that relied on core explosiveness, such as the "Batistuta Go" or the "Zizou Marseille Turn."

After experiencing the changes in his body, Sun Yang lay back down on the bed.

The Asian Cup schedule is very tight now, with a high-intensity match every three days. And there are even more brutal knockout rounds to come.

He decided not to activate the dream training camp tonight, dedicating all his limited energy to recovering for the real-world competition. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep within minutes.