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

The whistle that signaled the start of the second half rang out in the empty stadium, sounding extremely jarring.

Arsenal's players, their eyes blazing from the dressing room beatings, surged forward like a pack of wild dogs drawn by the scent of blood, collectively crossing the halfway line. Manager Mikel Arteta stood on the sidelines, his tie ripped loose, waving his arms and roaring.

He gave the team a firm order. They launched a suffocating high-pressing attack in Dortmund's half, determined to cut off that damned backfield passing network, even if it meant exhausting themselves within a quarter of an hour.

Forwards Aubameyang, Lacazette, and Nicola Pepe rushed to the edge of the penalty area to disrupt the three center-backs. Midfielders Xhaka and Ceballos pushed forward even further, double-teaming Witsel as he dropped back to receive the ball.

Just as Witsel chested down goalkeeper Bürki's cross, Xhaka charged in with tremendous force. The physical prowess of the Premier League tough guy was on full display. Witsel lost his balance, stumbled half a step, and the ball slipped from his control, seemingly about to be dispossessed.

At the critical moment, a figure wearing a yellow and black jersey sped to the receiving point.

It's Sun Yang.

Witsel quickly slid down and swept the ball away. Sun Yang met the rolling ball head-on without slowing down or even trying to stop it. To his side, Ceballos, his eyes bloodshot, launched a sliding tackle, his exposed steel studs aimed straight for Sun Yang's right ankle.

Sun Yang pushed off the grass, leaping half a meter into the air, and lightly tapped the ball with the instep of his right foot in mid-air.

The ball seemed to have eyes, leaping over Ceballos's deadly tackle and landing steadily at Guerrero's feet on the left.

Guerrero dribbled forward ten meters, and Niles immediately closed in like a mad dog. Guerrero didn't linger, but instead passed the ball across to Sun Yang, who had made a run into the middle to receive it.

This time, Xhaka gave Sun Yang no breathing room. He took large strides closer, his muscles tense, and he used his shoulders to try to use brute force to send the twenty-year-old Chinese-American boy, ball and all, flying onto the GG sign.

boom.

The collision of flesh produced a dull thud.

The moment Zhaka collided with Sun Yang's shoulder, his expression changed. He felt as if he hadn't bumped into a person, but rather into a concrete wall reinforced with steel bars!

With the system's extreme enhancement, Sun Yang's physical combat level has long since crossed the threshold of a top-tier European strongman. He withstood Xhaka's brutal charge without even swaying, and casually flicked his right foot outward with the outside of his foot.

The ball rolled along the grass, like a sharp knife cutting through Arsenal's entire midfield defense, precisely finding Sancho in the open space ahead.

Sancho and Hazard immediately launched their attack, forming a high-speed, moving triangular passing network with Sun Yang. Dortmund's formation resembled a sophisticated German industrial machine, striking the ball with a single touch and never holding onto it for too long.

The ball spun erratically between the players. In less than ten seconds, the high-pressing defense that Arteta had been dictating for fifteen minutes in the locker room was utterly torn apart.

Inside the Sky Sports broadcast room, French legend Thierry Henry ripped off his headphones and jumped to his feet from his leather swivel chair. He braced himself on the commentary desk, staring intently at the number 29 player sprinting across the field on the screen.

"Gary, do you understand now?" Henry shook his head repeatedly at his partner. "This is absurd! What kind of game are we watching? That discarded player who was kicked out of Arsenal is now using... the purest, Wenger-era Arsenal possession-based tactics!"

Lineker straightened his tie, chuckling wryly as he agreed, "Absolutely right, Thierry. Look at this Arsenal team that only knows how to rely on brute force, and then look at Sun Yang's magic with his feet. He single-handedly turned Dortmund's midfield and attack into works of art. This slap in the face to Arsenal's management is deafening."

Henry slumped back into his chair, dejected. "What a pity," he said, "this exceptional talent, who grew up at the Colney training ground, is now personally holding the knife called 'Beautiful Football' to the neck of his former master."

The situation on the field has completely devolved into a one-sided game of cat and mouse.

Sun Yang completely ignored the stamina bar. With Kante's perpetual motion lungs, his running coverage was like a half-court radar. Xhaka and Ceballos were outmaneuvered like headless flies, desperately trying to touch the ball but unable to get a single hair on it. They could only resort to underhanded shoving, pulling, and elbowing to vent their panic and frustration.

The match has reached the fiftieth minute.

Dortmund pressed forward again, their attack engulfing Arsenal's vulnerable right side of the penalty area. Sun Yang dribbled in, changing direction and breaking through, immediately triggering an alarm. Xhaka, Niles, and Ceballos rushed in, forming a triangular defensive formation that cornered Sun Yang near the sideline.

Xhaka, his eyes bloodshot, grabbed Sun Yang by the back of his jersey. The Dortmund number 29 jersey, yellow and black, was torn to shreds, the collar choking Sun Yang's neck and leaving a glaring, bloody mark.

Niles and Ceballos didn't hold back, each attacking with either foot, one blocking the ball's path while the other showed off his studs.

This is a classic Premier League meat grinder trap.

Through the gaps in the crowd, Sun Yang, whose center of gravity had been severely shifted, didn't even look at his feet. Enduring the extreme torment of three burly men, he coldly raised his left arm. His index finger, like a spear, pointed straight at the defensive vacuum at the far post of Arsenal's goal.

This was his death knell.

The god-level talent of "point and shoot" and the ultimate skill of "Bey's Curve" are both maxed out!

Sun Yang's left leg was firmly rooted to the grass like an iron pillar, while his right foot suddenly thrust under the ball with the inside of its instep, tightening his ankle and brutally ruthlessly rubbing it.

The three Arsenal players surrounding him only saw a blur before their eyes, and didn't even see how the ball slipped out from under their feet.

The ball violently rose into the air, tracing a terrifyingly exaggerated external spin in mid-air. This white trajectory grazed the head of the 1.92-meter-tall center-back Mustafi as he desperately jumped, carrying unparalleled downward gravity as it nestled towards the far post.

Haaland had already sprinted off the moment Sun Yang raised his hand. The Norwegian wizard completely ignored the excruciating pain in his right ankle, his thigh muscles bulging. He used absolute power to forcefully crush the defender beside him, leaping into the air to meet the falling ball, veins bulging in his neck, delivering a visually stunning and violent header!

The ball slammed into the grass in front of the goal line like a cannonball, and with the force of the rebound, it crashed into the bottom left corner of the goal.

4 is better than 0!

Arsenal goalkeeper Martin, enraged, kicked a water bottle near the goalpost. He furiously ripped off his glove and smashed it on the ground, roaring and spitting at the three center-backs in the penalty area: "Did you buy tickets to watch a show?! The club pays hundreds of thousands a week just for you to be sitting ducks on the field?! There's this huge blond guy standing there, and the three of you can't even hold onto his jersey?!"

Mustafi's face was ashen as he lowered his head, hastily wiping the cold sweat from his face, not daring to utter a single word in response.

Haaland stumbled when he landed after scoring. His injured right foot was overloaded, and he fell to his knees on the grass, his chest heaving violently, gasping for breath, unable to stand up straight for a moment.

Sun Yang rushed over, grabbed Haaland from behind, and lifted him up: "Erling, your ankle is showing signs of infection. Signal for a replacement, go down and apply an ice pack."

Sweat poured down Haaland's young, arrogant face. He shook his shiny head violently, stomping his feet hard on the grass twice, gritting his teeth: "Change my ass! I'm so excited I could tear two bears apart with my bare hands! Four-nil? What's four-nil? I'm going to make them cry as they leave the Stadium of Light tonight!"

On the sidelines, Arteta's face was contorted into a liver-colored grimace.

The humiliation of being down by four goals completely shattered the tactical plan in the young Spanish coach's mind. He suddenly rushed out of the technical area, half his body leaning into the white line of the pitch, and yelled at the nearest players, Xhaka and Tierney.

"Stop your civilized tricks! Want to lose 0-8?! Don't you understand tactical fouls?! Forget where the ball is, bring him down! Disrupt his rhythm! Keep him on the grass!"

The explosive roar echoed throughout the venue through the microphone.

Xhaka stopped, his eyes red as he stared at Sun Yang, who was retreating back to his own half. He turned his head, spat a mouthful of saliva mixed with grass clippings onto the grass, and gripped the captain's armband tightly on his left arm.