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

De Bruyne abandoned his casual stance, strode up to Sun Yang, and offered his right hand.

"Kevin," Tintin said bluntly, "your feel is even more outrageous than it looks in the videos."

"Sun Yang." The two hands clasped tightly together. Sun Yang grinned, "Your low through balls were deadly. If I hadn't just gotten used to the grip of these new shoes, I would have embarrassed myself in front of everyone with that shot."

The sight of the two midfield maestros from top clubs shaking hands in the same frame immediately drew countless camera flashes.

Puma's COO, beaming, ran up to the deck. These two top spokespeople had set the mood high from the very beginning—the best free headline ever.

He grabbed the microphone and raised his voice: "That was fantastic! The two midfield maestros have warmed up. Now, we'll move on to the highlight of today's press conference—a special and fun challenge!"

As soon as the words were spoken, another, smaller cruise ship slowly sailed out from the opposite bank of the Thames. A huge white cloth was hanging on the side of the ship, with a conspicuous red and white bullseye painted in the center.

The two ships maintained a parallel distance of nearly thirty meters, rising and falling with the waves.

"The rules are simple. Thirty-meter boat sniping! Each of the two star players has ten soccer balls in front of them. Kick the ball into the circle to get a base score, and accurately hit the bullseye red dot to get a perfect ten points!" The operations manager shouted, holding a scoreboard. "Not only that, we've also randomly selected two lucky fans to participate!"

At this moment, the waves on the deck were getting bigger and bigger. The cruise ship was rocking violently from side to side on the water. Let alone shooting, it was difficult for a normal person to even stand still. In addition, the turbulent wind blowing across the river greatly increased the difficulty of predicting the landing point.

Two young British men who were selected excitedly ran onto the artificial turf.

The first fan placed the ball and took his run-up on the swaying deck, his steps uneven. Just as he was about to push off with his right foot, the cruise ship suddenly swerved to the side. His left leg buckled, he missed a step, and kicked the ball directly out of the channel, where it splashed into the Thames.

The second fan learned his lesson and decided against a run-up, intending to shoot from the spot. However, he completely ignored the direction of the river wind. He swung his foot, and although the ball barely flew towards the other side, it was still a good five or six meters away from the white cloth.

Ten consecutive kicks, the combined score of the two fans was a glaring zero, not even enough to wipe the edge of the white cloth.

The onlookers let out a good-natured chuckle.

This is the harsh reality of competitive sports. Watching professional players play on TV always seems like they're taking a stroll, but when you're actually in such an unstable and extreme environment, ordinary people can't even manage the most basic power and kick.

"Kevin, shall we go first?" Sun Yang flicked a soccer ball with his toe.

"Let me set an example." De Bruyne took off his coat and tossed it to his assistant before walking to the ten balls.

He didn't rush to take a step, but instead glanced at the ripples on the river surface, sensing the wind direction. Then, he slightly parted his legs, deliberately lowering his center of gravity, his body swaying perfectly in sync with the rhythm of the deck's rocking.

He pulled his right leg back, and the inside of his foot precisely gripped the lower middle part of the ball.

"Bang."

The ball rose into the air with a penetrating arc, defying the crosswinds in mid-air. It flashed across the thirty-meter stretch of the river, landing precisely and accurately within the red and white circle on the opposite side of the white cloth.

"Great! Five stars!" the operations manager shouted.

The crowd gasped in astonishment. To find the target on the very first shot from a ship swaying like that—the Premier League's best midfielder's foundation is outrageously solid.

Immediately afterward, De Bruyne found his rhythm. His passing became increasingly rapid, and he perfected his long passes to find the perfect landing point. The third pass found the bullseye, a perfect 10. The fifth pass also found the bullseye.

After kicking ten balls in a row, the last ball grazed the edge of the bullseye, scoring eight points.

"Kevin De Bruyne, total score 88!"

It was Sun Yang's turn to serve. He walked to the service point and took a deep breath. The system's "point and shoot" talent automatically activated in his mind, and his left hand habitually pointed towards the bullseye on the opposite side.

Radar lock complete.

Sun Yang took a half step back. He didn't try to adjust to the swaying of the deck at all; with his "iron legs" as a foundation, his supporting leg was firmly rooted to the grass like a steel nail. His right leg swung across a wide area, clean and crisp.

The ball flew off the deck with a violent backspin.

The first kick was a little too forceful, and the ball hit the upper part of the white cloth.

"Six points!"

De Bruyne stood on the sidelines with his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on Sun Yang's supporting leg. An expert could see the trick immediately: when Sun Yang kicked, his ankle was as hard as an iron plate, and after hitting the right spot, the power bombarded along a straight line.

From the second kick onwards, Sun Yang completely took control of the river.

The ball seemed to have a guidance chip installed. Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three consecutive shots, each hitting the bullseye. The dull thud of the ball striking the white cloth was transmitted back to the main ship through the microphone, sending chills down everyone's spine. Outside of the foot, a high arc with the inside of the foot, a powerful slam with the instep—Sun Yang seemed to be flipping through an encyclopedia of footwork, showcasing a variety of touches, but all ultimately landing on the bullseye.

On the last ball, the cruise ship suddenly encountered a sharp wave, and the bow of the ship jerked high into the air.

Anyone else would have lost their balance long ago. But Sun Yang's supporting leg remained perfectly still, as steady as a mountain. He simply followed the angle of the bow and shoved the ball hard with the toe of his right foot.

The ball traced an exaggerated high parabola, crossed the 30-meter-wide river surface, and landed precisely in the center of the bullseye.

"Perfect score! Sun Yang's final score is 92 points!"

The arena erupted in applause and screams. A mere four points—this was the epitome of a battle between world-class stars. The entire challenge match will be recorded and uploaded to Twitter and Instagram by Puma's operations team within minutes, destined to ignite a global discussion among fans.

The event concluded successfully. Fans and media then moved into the ship's interior for the dinner.

Sun Yang and Ding Ding avoided the noisy crowd and walked to the quiet rest area at the back of the cruise ship. They each picked up a towel and wiped the sweat from their faces.

De Bruyne fished two bottles of mineral water out of the ice bucket and casually tossed one to Sun Yang.

"Your long passes are already at the level of Manchester City's first team. That kind of skill in getting past defenders in a tight space is very popular in the Premier League." De Bruyne unscrewed the bottle cap and took a big gulp. Foreigners never know how to beat around the bush.

"The pace of the Bundesliga isn't slow either; my skills are just enough for Westphalia," Sun Yang replied, leaning against the railing and drinking water.

"Dortmund has a new young coach next season, so things probably won't be too easy for you guys. Bayern's current starting lineup is too solid." De Bruyne turned to look at the Thames River at night, his tone calm. "To be honest, Pep has practically worn out all the game footage of you lately. Not just you, but also that big Norwegian guy in your team who scores goals like it's nothing."

Guardiola. That tactical fanatic from Manchester City.

Sun Yang is all too aware of Manchester City's dominance in the coming years. Once Haaland, this Norwegian wonderkid, actually dons the Citizens' jersey and arrives in the Etihad, that squad will be a bulldozer in the Premier League, crushing everything in its path. It will be an absolutely heavily armed supercarrier.

But that was two years later.

"Coach Pep's tactics are fascinating, and Manchester City has the confidence to compete for the title every year." Sun Yang held the empty water bottle in his hand. "But I just signed a new contract with Dortmund. Bayern just snatched the Champions League trophy from our eyes last week, and I haven't settled that score yet. Right now, I just want to stay in Germany."

"Trying to take back what you've lost? That's tough of you." De Bruyne draped a towel over his shoulder and smiled. "Good luck. Hopefully, we won't meet too early in the Champions League knockout stages."

"If we really run into each other, you'd better make sure your through ball doesn't cross my defense." Sun Yang precisely tossed the empty bottle into the trash can, not giving an inch.

De Bruyne shrugged, waved, and turned to walk toward the cabin.

Sun Yang gazed at the lights on the river and let out a long sigh. The rallying cry for the new season was about to sound. Bayern Munich's veteran squad, fresh from their Champions League victory, would not easily relinquish their Bundesliga throne.

The maxed-out skills he had learned from his dream were about to be put to the test in real combat.