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

Makelele walked up to Sun Yang and used his cleats to draw two intersecting lines on the turf.

"Did you see that kid's pace? It's as fast as a little electric motor. Trying to outpace him with your footwork and doing those fancy tricks is like throwing an egg against a rock."

"Remember, the highest level of escape is never about how fast your feet are, but about how well you position yourself."

Makelele suddenly turned around, using his broad, thick back to block Sun Yang, and directly executed a standard half-side blocking move.

"Use your positioning to draw his weight! Before receiving the ball, glance at his center of gravity. The moment you touch the ball, use your shoulder to completely block his footing. Think of yourself as a load-bearing wall, making him collide with you first, not the ball!"

Sun Yang's eyes lit up when he heard this.

A world-class defensive midfielder is giving him hands-on, live instruction—it's practically like he's being forced to memorize the secrets to victory. Compared to those vague, mystical inspirations, this kind of solid, practical experience is the most valuable asset on the field.

The ball is thrown out of bounds. Sun Yang immediately puts his newly learned technique to use on the grass.

Fortieth minute. Sun Yang calls for the ball with his back to goal in midfield.

Kanté arrived as expected, sticking to Sun Yang's back like a piece of chewing gum that wouldn't budge, ready to snatch the ball.

This time, Sun Yang controlled his temper, not rushing to turn around, nor making any unnecessary shoulder feints. Before the ball rolled over, he decisively lowered his center of gravity, used his left shoulder to push back, and forcefully positioned his young body between the ball and Kanté.

Kanté, as usual, stretched out his leg to poke.

boom.

A dull thud rang out. Kanté's studs didn't touch the ball; instead, they landed squarely on Sun Yang's hard, iron-like left shin.

The incredible stability granted by his "Iron Legs" talent came into play. Sun Yang didn't even flinch; using the reaction force from Kanté's kick, he half-turned his body and smoothly passed the ball out with his right foot.

Become!

Sun Yang's heart skipped a beat. By using his positioning and physical strength, he finally managed to retain possession of the ball against this formidable French defender.

But he didn't get a chance to look up, as Kanté pressed again. The two men grappled in the center circle, turning into a wrestling match, both falling to the ground and exchanging tackles.

Amidst the chaos, the ball was forcefully pushed back by the studs of the two players' shoes, and floated high into the white team's half of the field, seemingly without any pattern.

A high-altitude clearance ball that was completely out of control.

At this moment, the white team's defensive line is advancing significantly, leaving a large area of ​​their backcourt undefended.

Not far away, Eevee, with its massive 1.95-meter-tall body, had already begun to retreat and calculate its landing point.

The ball plummeted rapidly through the air with a whooshing sound.

There are still a full thirty meters to go from here to the goal.

At this distance, any normal striker would definitely first control the ball securely before considering turning to break through or finding a teammate.

But he is Zlatan Ibrahimovic.

Ibrahimovic didn't even turn his neck to look at the goal. He simply relied on his primal instinct for the trajectory of the ball and lifted himself up on the spot.

The 1.95-meter-tall powerhouse completely disregarded Newton's three laws of motion in mid-air, stretching and folding his body backward to the extreme. His right leg swung like a long, menacing whip, lashing out fiercely at the rapidly descending ball.

Snapped! ! !

A deafening explosion, like a blast of detonation, echoed across the empty stadium.

This is simply inhuman. Thirty meters away, with his back to the goal, he took off from the spot and executed an incredible bicycle kick of unparalleled difficulty!

The ball, like a solid iron ball blasted from a cannon, tore through the air and hurtled straight toward the white team's goal.

The white team's virtual goalkeeper was like a stake nailed to the edge of the penalty area, forced to watch helplessly as the white beam of light hurtled overhead and smashed through the net in despair. He covered his face with his hands in despair, knelt on the ground, and buried his head in the grass.

One to two.

The red team has taken the lead.

Ibrahimovic landed on the grass and flipped himself up, arrogantly slapping his muscular chest and pointing at the white team's half of the field, laughing loudly.

Sun Yang stood in the center circle, watching intently, swallowing hard, a chill running down his spine.

What kind of insane skill set is this? Using a barb from 30 meters away as a regular weapon?

"System, I seriously suspect you've rigged this match!" Sun Yang cursed directly. "Did you just copy Joe Hart's stats for this goalkeeper? Whenever there's a highlight or a fantastic goal, he's always there as the 'background stunner,' isn't he?!"

The system did not respond; only a cold countdown panel popped up, showing that there were only five minutes left until the end of the first half.

Sun Yang rubbed his face and exhaled all the pent-up frustration from his lungs.

Being suffocated by Kanté and then getting close to Ibrahimovic with his signature shot, the frustration was suffocating. Now that his body had caught up with the pace and his mind was clear, he was determined to turn the tide before halftime, even if it meant exhausting his stamina!

Forty-fourth minute.

Totti of the Red Team took a long-range shot from the attacking third, but it went high and wide, and possession changed hands.

The goalkeeper threw out a short pass. The ball was precisely passed to Makelele and rolled back towards Sun Yang's right flank.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that short, stocky black figure coming again. Kanté was already at full speed, crashing into him like an unreasonable little tank.

Just as the ball was about to roll to his feet, Sun Yang made a bold gamble.

He completely abandoned the ball-stopping action, instead sliding a large step to the right, effectively blocking Kanté's path as he attempted to intercept the ball. At the same time, he tensed his broad latissimus dorsi muscles and delivered a relentless, head-on challenge to the charging Kanté.

boom!

Muscles collided. Kanté's sprinting momentum was abruptly halted by this brutal impact, stopping him for a full half-second.

That's enough! Just for half a second!

Sun Yang's right toe slipped into the bottom of the ball with a ghostly touch. The entire radar was activated, its firepower fully engaged; the trajectory of the pass was calculated in his mind.

The right thigh swung violently, and the outside of the taut instep sliced ​​into the lower middle part of the ball like a sharp blade.

Whoosh!

A furious, high-flying pass soared into the sky. The ball, spinning wildly, transformed into a GPS-guided cruise missile, cleaving through most of the midfield before precisely heading towards the edge of the Red Team's penalty area.

In that position, Dennis Bergkamp was trapped in a forest of muscles from two tall center-backs from the Reds.

The ball was passed high and dropped with great force. The red team's center-back held Bergkamp's back, applying pressure with his knee and subtle movements, giving him no space to jump and contest the header.

But Bergkamp had no intention of jumping.

He stood motionless with his hands hanging naturally at his sides, his cold gaze fixed on the ball that had been thrown down.

Just as the ball fell to knee height, Bergkamp deftly flicked it with his left foot, the inside of his foot gently tapping the ball against the ball.

This touch was as gentle as caressing a fragile piece of blue and white porcelain; the gravitational acceleration that could kill someone was completely dissipated.

Immediately afterwards, without even blinking, Bergkamp, ​​with the outside of his right foot suspended in mid-air, gently flicked the ball that had just lost its momentum.

The left foot taps the ball, the right foot flicks it.

With his body pivoting on his left foot, as if defying gravity, he smoothly completed a magnificent 180-degree turn.

This isn't playing football; it's like dancing ballet on the green field with such elegance.

The Red Team guard defending him was completely disoriented by this combo, his balance was completely disrupted, and he fell into empty air, ending up with a mouthful of grass in a sorry state.

A century-long transformation, perfectly recreated!

Bergkamp, ​​turning around, saw only the ashen-faced goalkeeper before him. Without even a slight adjustment, he casually raised his right foot and slotted the ball into the bottom left corner of the goal.

The ball went into the net with a thud.

The score is tied at two!

The referee blew the whistle to end the first half the very second the ball crossed the line. The score was miraculously tied in the final seconds.

The players from both sides began wiping their sweat and walking towards the sidelines to prepare for halftime.

Sun Yang was still standing in the second half, staring at the replay on the big screen. Bergkamp's effortless control and turn had elevated football, a physical sport, to the level of a work of art.

He completely forgot about his aching thighs and lungs that felt like they were about to burst, and didn't even bother to grab his water bottle. He took off running like a 100-meter sprinter towards Bergkamp on the sidelines.

"Mr. Dennis!"

Sun Yang was panting heavily, his eyes fixed on Bergkamp's seemingly magical sneakers, his face filled with undisguised fanaticism and greed.

Bergkamp wiped the sweat from his chin with a towel, then glanced back at the sweaty Chinese boy.

"That kick and turn just now..." Sun Yang swallowed hard, forcing down his wildly beating heart. "Please, please break down the principles of power generation and teach them to me!"