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

The match has reached the thirtieth minute.

Matthäus astutely spotted an opening in the defense and delivered a pinpoint, low through ball from midfield. His teammate followed up with a shot that easily breached Sun Yang's goal.

Watching the German veterans high-five and celebrate, Sun Yang wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Now that I've paid my tuition, it's time for my machine to roar into action.

Sun Yang strode back to the net, scooped the ball out, and casually tossed it to the goalkeeper.

The game restarts. The ball descends high through the air, heading straight for Sun Yang's right flank.

Ram's defensive instincts remained radar-like; he once again pinpointed the landing point. His muscular body pressed tightly against Sun Yang's back, using his core strength to continuously counterattack, attempting to push Sun Yang out of his optimal take-off position.

He stared at the afterimage of the falling ball, casually flipping his right foot outward. The outside of his foot gently cushioned the falling ball like a spring.

The ball didn't hit the grass; instead, it bounced up a second time along the arc of his instep.

Just as Lahm was about to close in on the ball, Sun Yang deftly bent his left knee and flicked it upwards, followed by a deft headbutt. The ball, like a nimble bird, completely broke free of Lahm's prized defensive radius and flew straight forward.

Sun Yang suddenly pushed off the turf, turned around, brushed past Lamu, and took two large strides forward.

The ball plummeted downwards again.

Ahead, Barak's massive frame stood like an insurmountable Berlin Wall, blocking the center of the danger zone. He sealed off all of Sun Yang's paths to break through and shoot.

Faced with this oppressive one-on-one situation, Sun Yang's inner madman completely erupted. He displayed Ibrahimovic-level flexibility combined with Ronaldinho's freakish, ultimate ball control!

In the high-speed frenzy without any deceleration, Sun Yang's upper body suddenly folded laterally in an ergonomically unnatural manner. His right leg rose high behind him, and his heel, like a battle axe, precisely struck the bottom of the falling ball.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud with a strong sense of explosion rang out.

The ball rose from the ground in Ballack's wide-eyed gaze, tracing an extremely exaggerated parabola, and inexplicably flew over Ballack's head.

A rainbow leap! And it's a super advanced version that doesn't even touch the ground!

Sun Yang swept past Ballack like a whirlwind, just in time for the ball to clear the obstacle and begin its descent.

At this moment, he had completely overwhelmed the legendary defense and reached the edge of the penalty area, twenty-five meters from the goal. The opposing goalkeeper broke out in a cold sweat and hurriedly sprinted out of his goal.

The ball landed at knee height.

Sun Yang didn't make even the slightest adjustment. He gave the goalkeeper no chance to block the angle, his left leg piercing the turf like a steel nail, his entire body leaning exaggeratedly to the left. His right instep was fully extended, and he unleashed a thunderous shot at the ball in mid-air!

A god-like talent, hitting exactly where you point! Combined with Modric's ultimate power from the outside of his foot!

"boom!"

The turf and soil were blown away by this brute force.

The ball roared through the air, spinning wildly with an intensity so strong it was visible to the naked eye, tracing a super-extra-spin arc that defied the laws of physics. It plummeted rapidly, almost grazing the desperate fingertips of the onrushing goalkeeper, like a cruise missile, plunging headlong into the absolute top right corner of the goal!

The entire stadium fell silent for a moment.

Five or six seconds later, the area outside the barbed wire fence erupted in a cacophony of screams and applause that seemed to lift the roof off.

"God! Good heavens! Is this a person playing football?" Catherine screamed excitedly from the sidelines, swinging her coat around like a windmill.

Ballack stood frozen in place. He rubbed his rough stubble, staring at the ball still spinning in the net, then turned to look at Matthäus walking over.

"This kid's footwork is simply an unreasonable monster." Barak shook his head, his tone filled with undisguised shock.

Mateusz stepped forward, patted Sun Yang's broad shoulder, and waved his hand while panting heavily.

"OK, you win, kid." The emperor of German football finally admitted defeat. "I'm not playing anymore. If I keep messing around with this madman, the orthopedic specialists in Munich will have to prepare an operating table for me tonight."

……

At noon, in a VIP room at a private club in Cologne.

Sun Yang skillfully cut open the rare steak, still slightly pink, on the plate and chewed it heartily to replenish his energy. Beside him was a glass of specially made high-purity soda water.

Meanwhile, Mateusz, Barak, and Ram were enjoying authentic local dark beer.

"Come on! To Dortmund's double MVP, and to his beautiful goal today—cheers!" Matthäus raised his huge beer mug and proposed loudly.

The four cups collided crisply in mid-air.

"Sun, to be honest, I was really surprised to see you holding back and trying to outmaneuver us on the field today." Lahm took a sip of dark beer and wiped his mouth with a tissue. "These days, those young guys who rely on their talent just floor the gas pedal and hog the ball. You, this supercar, are actually starting to use your brain to find your rhythm."

"Facing a bunch of old foxes who've won the World Cup, if I don't use my brain, I'll probably get skinned alive." Sun Yang chuckled as he swallowed the high-protein beef. "I've been searching for that crucial balance point when I exert my power. Playing this half-hour of 'healthy' football with you guys today is more effective than training with the machine for half a month on my own."

Barak leaned back in the thick leather chair, his gaze fixed on Sun Yang's calf muscles, which were as thick as tree trunks.

"You really have a bit of Diego Maradona in you back in the day. Terzic's explosiveness is terrifying, and his technique is incredibly refined." Ballack's tone turned serious, his usual roughness gone. "Terzic gave you the number 10 jersey at Dortmund, undoubtedly intending to establish you as the absolute core of the attack. But you have to understand, Dortmund's squad is too weak."

Sun Yang put down his knife and fork, picked up a napkin, and wiped his fingers clean. He looked directly at the three legends across from him, representing the highest honor in German football.

He knew that after all this build-up from the old guys, the real event was finally about to begin.

Matthäus took over the conversation, his eyes, which had seen countless people, sharpened, revealing a ruthless edge from the capitalist jungle.

"Michael is right. Last season, you utterly crushed Bayern, and your name has entered the sights of all the top clubs in Europe." Matthäus tapped his index finger heavily on the table. "But that's precisely your most dangerous situation now. The most terrifying trump card of Bayern Munich, this giant machine, has never been their starting eleven, but their absolute control over all the resources in the Bundesliga."

Lahm nodded silently beside him. As a former Bayern Munich captain, he knew all too well the power of that operating model.

"Kid, the Bundesliga pool can't hold a dragon like you anymore." Matthäus leaned forward. "Bayern's method of maintaining dominance is very simple: suck the blood out of all challengers. You've given Dortmund the confidence to challenge the throne, and the Munich management will definitely not sit idly by. I bet the strangulation defense against you this season will only get dirtier, and they'll even resort to more underhanded tactics."

Sun Yang picked up the soda water and took a sip, his expression so calm that it didn't even show the slightest ripple.

"So?" Sun Yang put down his cup, placing his hands clasped on the table. "These important figures specially arranged this gathering today; surely it wasn't just to give me a warning of danger?"

"Go to a bigger stage, leave here as soon as possible." Matthäus gave the most realistic advice. "Go to the Premier League, go to La Liga, or like I did back then, go to Serie A to experience the ultimate tactical battles. Dortmund's management can't give you the resources to win the Champions League. Even if you win five league MVPs at Dortmund, it won't be as valuable as lifting one trophy at Real Madrid or Barcelona. That's a completely different level of hype, like the Ballon d'Or."

Ballack quickly added, "If you're worried about the release clause, you don't need to. A price tag of twenty million euros is nothing to the owners of those Premier League clubs backed by oil conglomerates. If you agree now, your agent's mother will see at least three transfer contracts from top clubs on her desk tomorrow morning."

The words have been said to such an extent that they couldn't be more explicit.