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

Munich, Bavaria, Germany.

Beside the A9 highway, a colossal structure with an exterior composed of 2874 diamond-shaped inflatable membrane structures stands majestically. As night falls, the entire stadium's exterior walls glow a dazzling scarlet color, scorching half the night sky.

This is the Allianz Arena, Bayern Munich's absolute territory, one of the most terrifying and intimidating home stadiums in all of Europe.

On October 1st, the final day of the new season's German Super Cup took place as scheduled. Due to public health restrictions, only slightly more than 10 Bayern Munich fans were allowed into the stands tonight.

But the wide plaza surrounding the Allianz Arena had long since turned into a sea of ​​red revelry.

Thousands of Bayern Munich fans who couldn't get tickets gathered here. The glaring red team flags fluttered in the night wind, and rockets exploded in mid-air, filling the square with the pungent smell of gunpowder mixed with the strong malty aroma of Bavarian dark beer.

Frenzied men and women raised their glasses high, chanting the team song "Southern Star" in unison. The enormous sound waves converged into a sonic boom, shaking the roadside trees so much that leaves fell from them.

In the distance, a conspicuous yellow bus, escorted by sirens, slowly drove into the main tunnel of the stadium. The entire Dortmund team had arrived at the field.

Upon seeing the Borussia Dortmund logo painted on the side of the bus, the Bayern Munich fans in the square immediately stopped singing. They turned around in unison and unleashed a deafening chorus of boos at the bus.

Hundreds of arms stretched out from outside the railing, all giving a thumbs-up.

Surprisingly, this time no one banged on the car windows, and no one smashed bottles at the tires.

Facing a 20-year-old prodigy who snatched the Bundesliga MVP, Champions League Best Young Player, and assist leader titles from them last season, the Munich fans showed him the highest level of respect that belongs to the football field.

They greeted this most dangerous enemy in all of Germany with the purest football-based hostility.

Inside the bus.

Haaland slumped in his window seat, staring through the glass at the dazzling sea of ​​red people outside. His cheeks were puffed out as he chewed on a carrot like a hamster eating.

"These Munich bastards are giving me a headache." Haaland turned his head to look at the next corridor. "Yang. I swear, I'm going to shut them all up with a goal later."

Sun Yang was bending down, wrapping a sports bandage around his right leg. Without even looking up, his fingers deftly tightened the bandage, tying a tight knot.

"Save your energy for those defenders, Demon." Sun Yang stood up, grabbed his tactical backpack, and said, "Once we get to the frontcourt, you can receive my pass even with your eyes closed, as long as you create space. Pack your things, time to get to work."

Fifteen minutes later.

Allianz Stadium, away team's locker room.

Dortmund coach Terzić stood in front of the tactics board, his marker banging loudly on the midfield area on the whiteboard.

"The media outside are all praising Bayern as an invincible machine, saying they are the unbeatable European champions. But to hell with champions!" Terzich's voice echoed roughly in the closed locker room.

He turned around abruptly, his hawk-like gaze locking onto Sun Yang, who was sitting in the center.

"Yang. Tonight, Flick's targeting will be absolutely aggressive. Tolisso, Martinez, and Kimmich—those three will be eyeing your ankles like mad dogs. Remember, don't try to play dirty with these musclemen in the mid lane!"

Terčić slammed his hand on the blank space behind the tactical board: "Get the ball and drop back! Avoid their attacks, and use your damn scalpel to ruthlessly cut open the vacuum behind their center-backs! Launch a decisive counter-attack!"

Sun Yang tightened his shin guards and nodded vigorously: "Understood, Coach. The ball will be delivered to the most crucial spot on time."

There are five minutes left before the match begins.

Inside the players' tunnel, the overhead incandescent lights emitted a faint buzzing sound. The starting eleven players for both teams were already lined up in their respective rows.

They were less than a meter apart. In the narrow passage, the air seemed to freeze, the pungent smell of male hormones mixed with the sour smell of sweat after warming up, making it hard to breathe.

Bayern Munich midfielder Joshua Kimmich stood at the front of the group. He didn't even look at the ball boy leading the way, but instead turned his neck and stared at Sun Yang next to him with a cold gaze like a needle.

In last season's crucial Bundesliga match, this mixed-race young man unleashed an audacious shot from outside the penalty area. The ball grazed his face, fracturing his nose and leaving blood splattered across the turf. Bayern Munich's injury threw them into disarray, costing them the league title.

All summer long, Kimmich pushed his bench press to the limit in the weight room, all for tonight.

"Hey, Asian kid. Welcome to Munich's battlefield." Kimmich spat out a string of rough German through gritted teeth. "Tonight, if you dare to get the ball in midfield, I guarantee you won't even be able to stand and cross the halfway line."

Sun Yang slightly turned his gaze, his indifferent eyes sweeping over Kimmich's high-bridged face.

"Your new nose looks good, quite symmetrical." Sun Yang's tone was calm and even. "I suggest you stay away from me. After all, I don't want to offer you a free second corrective surgery after the match."

Kimmich's face visibly swelled to a liver color, and several veins bulged on his neck. He roughly took half a step to the side, almost pressing the tip of his nose against Sun Yang's chin.

Haaland, like a grizzly bear that has smelled blood, rammed into him from behind, his broad chest forcing Kimmich back two steps.

"Want to fight? Come on, buddy, let me see what this Bavarian is all about!" Haaland roared in his rough voice.

The powder keg was about to explode.

A sharp, stern whistle rang out from the tunnel ahead. The referee for this match, Bundesliga Women's Golden Whistle winner Bibiana Steinhaus, strode in with a stern face.

Tonight is the final match of her refereeing career, and no one can run wild on her turf.

Bibiana forcefully squeezed into the jungle of muscles, pushing aside both teams with her hands, her sharp gaze sweeping across Kimmich and Haaland's faces like knives.

"Gentlemen! Save your excess energy for the grass!" Bibiana jabbed her index finger heavily into the red and yellow card pocket on her chest. "Anyone who dares to cause trouble in this passageway will be put on extra duty by my red card. All of you, back to your positions!"

Kimmich's eyes twitched a few times, and he glared fiercely at Harland and Sun Yang before snorting and retreating back into the ranks. Sun Yang patted the demon's broad back, signaling him to save his energy.

At the end of the corridor, a football association official strode onto the field, holding a model of the German Super Cup trophy high. A rousing entrance symphony erupted.

The players from both sides stepped out of the tunnel side by side.

The moment the cleats touched the turf, the terrifying sound waves generated by the more than 10,000 fans at Allianz Stadium crashed over us like a heavy truck. Amplified by the sound-gathering effect of the closed membrane structure, the entire stadium seemed to tremble violently.

On the south stand, more than a dozen giant Bayern Munich team flags, each three stories high, waved in unison, resembling a surging crimson tsunami.

The coin was tossed into the night sky, and the toss was over.

Bibiana looked down to check her watch, then blew the silver whistle in her mouth forcefully.

The German Super Cup final of the new season has officially begun!

Bayern's number 9, Lewandowski, positioned himself at the center circle and deftly flicked the ball to Müller behind him. Without hesitation, Müller launched a wide cross-field pass, precisely finding Davies making a run down the left flank.

Without the slightest probing, Bayern Munich, this German machine running at full speed, floored the accelerator in the very first second of the match.

With years of accumulated ball control experience, the red jerseys quickly spread across Dortmund's half like a tidal wave. Flick's "Gegenpressing" system, which he personally crafted, displayed a suffocating dominance at this moment.

Whenever a Dortmund player gets the ball, two or three "Red Wolves" will rush to tackle him within a five-meter radius, making fierce and decisive tackles.

Sun Yang, who played as an attacking midfielder, had his back completely soaked with sweat just three minutes into the game.

Bayern's tactical approach tonight was absolutely ruthless.

Tolisso and Martinez, the two sweepers, completely abandoned their positional awareness; their eyes were only on Sun Yang. As soon as Sun Yang stepped into the center circle, the two immediately engaged in close combat on his left and right, while Kimmich lingered five meters away like a venomous snake, ready to intercept passing lanes at any moment.

Sun Yang's radius of rotation when connecting with the ball was ruthlessly stripped away by this blocking net.

Tolisso's strong knees kept subtly impacting Sun Yang's thigh muscles, and the hem of his yellow jersey was being pulled so hard it was almost torn.

"Bite him to death! Don't give him a chance to look up and observe!"

Bayern Munich's goalkeeper, Neuer, stood at the edge of the penalty area, yelling at the fiercely attacking midfielders. The Red Sea of ​​Munich was trying to drown this giant hornet in the opening stages of the game.