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

In the ninth minute, Guerrero found himself in a tight pressing situation on the left wing. He cleared the ball with a wide cross and accurately switched it to the right wing.

Sun Yang controlled the ball steadily and then began to advance at high speed along the right sideline.

With his signature fluffy afro, Witsel strode quickly close in. This seasoned Belgian was shrewd; he lowered his center of gravity, preparing to use his strong physique to forcefully disrupt Sun Yang's dribbling rhythm and force him to pass the ball to Haaland, who was making a run down the middle.

At this moment, Hummels also stood guard at the edge of the penalty area, ready to cut off any possible crosses.

According to everyone's opinion, based on Sun Yang's usual playing style, at this point he should either directly cross the ball or forcefully go down the wing and use the change of rhythm to play a triangular back pass.

But this time, Sun Yang had no intention of playing by the rules.

Facing Witsel, who was less than half a meter away, Sun Yang showed no intention of slowing down while dribbling at high speed. He forcefully flicked the ball towards the byline with the outside of his left foot, and his left shoulder followed with a realistic sinking motion.

Witsel's defensive instincts were immediately triggered. He was determined that Sun Yang would try to attack the baseline, and he slammed his entire weight toward the right side of the defense without reservation.

Right there in this tiny gap where the center of gravity is completely out of balance.

Sun Yang's left leg, ravaged by 20,000 hellish training sessions, instinctively issued commands based on the terrifying muscle memory etched into his bones. The inside of his left foot precisely caught the ball, forcefully creating an inhuman 180-degree backflip on the grass!

The violent reversal of his center of gravity caused Witsel's afro to swing wildly through the air. His legs became tangled, and he completely lost his balance, collapsing onto the grass with a thud.

Sun Yang didn't even blink, nor did he look at Witsel lying on the ground.

He dribbled laterally with a single, decisive step, creating a perfect shooting path for himself on the right edge of the penalty area.

Without any unnecessary adjustments, Sun Yang swung his left foot, using the inside of his instep to generate power and locking his ankle, delivering a solid and powerful strike to the bottom of the ball!

boom!

The moment the ball left the foot, it spun violently inward, tearing through the air with a terrifying whoosh, drawing a breathtakingly exaggerated outward curve. This curve ruthlessly bypassed Hummels' head as he desperately jumped to block in the penalty area, and nestled into the top left corner of the goal.

Goalkeeper Bürki's legs felt like they were filled with lead. He only had time to twist his neck in despair before the ball smashed through the net before he could even finish his jump to make a save.

The entire training ground fell into a deathly silence for three seconds.

"Shit! What the hell is that arc of physics?" Bürki was the first to recover, angrily throwing his goalkeeper gloves onto the grass and turning to the defense to grumble, "Guys, couldn't you have marked him tighter? Letting him shoot like he's strolling through his own backyard, I might as well play striker!"

Witsel rubbed his aching ankle and got up from the grass with a frustrated expression.

"Fuck, how can you blame me for this?" he protested, cursing. "That shoulder drop feint of his was deadly! My old back almost gave out! That kid's stride frequency is two levels faster than before!"

"Wow! Wow wow!" Haaland charged over like a raging brown bear smelling blood, grabbing Sun Yang and excitedly ruffling his hair as he yelled, "Bro, tell me honestly, were you hiding at home again, secretly watching videotapes to learn new tricks? This time you even stole that Dutch bald guy's rare inside cut? That move is absolutely awesome!"

Sidelines.

Favre and assistant coach Terčić exchanged bewildered glances. Their eyes were fixed on the tactics board, and they remained silent for a long time.

They had long since become immune to their captain's insane rate of progress. But every time he returned from vacation, this kid would magically pull out several new, chilling killing moves from his bottomless arsenal.

"My God, that inside cut he made just now..." Terzic swallowed hard. "It was exactly like that bald Dutchman who just retired! That kind of fluidity, you simply couldn't pull that off in high-speed combat without practicing it thousands of times in private."

Favre gripped his tactical pen so tightly it clicked, his eyes gleaming, nodding repeatedly.

The competition continued.

The Red Team's defense, clearly frustrated by their previous setbacks, intensified their defensive tactics. Witsel, abandoning all pretense of pride, instructed Akanji to double-team Sun Yang.

In the 18th minute, the Red Team made a mistake during a corner kick attack.

Piszczek intercepted the ball in his own half and cleared it with a long kick. The pass was somewhat careless, landing very deep and veering towards the left sideline.

Sun Yang decisively started from near the center circle. He didn't use Caniggia's extreme speed talent to shock the world, but relied solely on his enhanced and terrifying explosive power to overtake Akanji in a straight line through his defensive blind spot.

He deftly controlled the ball three meters in front of the left byline and then sped down the edge of the penalty area into the heart of the defense.

Hummels, with his seasoned experience, immediately blocked the inside line while simultaneously signaling Bürki to rush out of his goal, attempting to completely shut down Sun Yang's shooting angle with two strong defenses.

The distance is getting closer and closer.

Sun Yang made no attempt to slow down or adjust. Facing the two towers in front and behind, his left leg dug into the grass like a heavy steel pillar, forcibly lowering his center of gravity.

There was no need for him to swing his leg or exert brute force. Using the terrifying momentum of his high-speed sprint, he used the instep of his right foot like a push rod to deliver a clean and crisp push to the lower part of the ball.

A truly authentic Henry-style shot!

The ball, like a cold, sharp blade flying close to the ground, precisely grazed the tips of Bürki's desperately outstretched fingers and crashed into the bottom right corner of the goal.

The training ground fell silent once again.

Bürki lay sprawled in the goal, staring blankly at the German blue sky, utterly dejected. A few seconds later, he suddenly sat up, raised his hands high at Favre on the sidelines, and roared, "Coach! Protest! I want to be on his team next game! I've had enough of being a machine ball-serving machine in this damn group!"

The half-hour low-intensity combat training finally came to an end amidst laughter and banter.

The players walked towards the locker room in twos and threes, arms around each other's shoulders, all talking excitedly about the two absurd and unreasonable goals they had just scored.