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

The fifteen-minute break passed in the blink of an eye.

The players from both sides stepped back onto the field.

The second half began. Trailing by two goals, Zenit made immediate substitutions, bringing on two physically imposing young players in an attempt to break down Dortmund's defense with stronger physical play.

Just five minutes into the game, Zenit players visibly increased their dirty tricks. They resorted to everything from secretly pulling jerseys and bumping into players from behind to even tripping them up during scrambles for the ball.

Unfortunately, tonight's referee is Mark Clattenburg, a renowned referee from the English Premier League. This guy is a notorious "blind monk" referee, who encourages a wild, unbridled style of competition between men. As long as you don't injure someone and expose their shoes, he won't even bother to blow his whistle for ordinary physical collisions.

After being brought down several times by legitimate collisions without drawing fouls, several young Dortmund players visibly became impatient.

Sun Yang jogged slowly in the middle of the field, casually wiping the sweat from his chin.

He had long seen through the referee's bottom line. Since the Russians like hand-to-hand combat, then let's go all out and have a real, real fight.

The 180-pound Juba steadily stopped the ball with his chest, his massive body just about to lean against the defender to complete the turn.

Like a cheetah that has smelled blood, Sun Yang charged straight at me from the side and behind.

He didn't foul by stepping on him, nor did he even use his hands to pull him. Relying solely on the abnormal core and lower body stability brought by the [Kant Perpetual Motion Machine Lungs], he tightened his shoulders and back, and used his thick shoulders to solidly slam into Juba's ribs.

A muffled "bang" was heard.

The Russian giant bear Dzyuba let out a suppressed groan, lost his balance and stumbled. The ball under his feet was easily poked away by Sun Yang and passed to his teammate.

Fifty-eighth minute.

Zenit midfielder Barrios receives the ball and prepares to advance. Sun Yang arrives just in time.

Faced with Barrios' standard move of using his hips and back to shield the ball, Sun Yang sneered, suddenly lowered his center of gravity, his thigh muscles bulged, and his core muscles exerted force.

The two people collided head-on while running at high speed.

The sounds of flesh colliding were clearly audible.

Sun Yang stood as steady as a mountain, without even a sway. Barrios, on the other hand, was like someone who had been rear-ended by a heavy truck on a highway; he lost his balance and flew more than two meters away, his face sliding across the grass, leaving a long green trail.

Referee Clattenburg stood five meters away, arms outstretched, gesturing for the game to continue—an impeccably legitimate collision.

The Dortmund fans in the south stand erupted in wild laughter and whistles.

"Well done, Sun. Smash those Russian wine barrels with your body."

The next ten minutes became the darkest moment for Zenit's midfielders and defenders.

Relying on his abnormal cardiopulmonary function that could quickly clear lactic acid, Sun Yang started running all over the field. He not only intercepted and swept around on the defensive end, but also personally dribbled the ball and aggressively charged into the heart of the Russian defense on the offensive end.

The Zenit players were forced to confront a desperate truth.

This seemingly well-proportioned, even somewhat handsome, Asian young man is, in essence, a steel monster in human skin.

Whether it's a contest of explosive initial bursts or a static, positional power struggle, these burly men, known as a "fighting nation," gain absolutely no advantage. The moment there's physical contact, it's always the one who gets pushed back who suffers.

Sixty-eighth minute.

Zenit's defensive midfielder Kuzyaev completely collapsed from overexertion while battling Sun Yang for a half-ball. He let out a painful scream and fell to the ground, rolling around in agony while clutching his calf.

I got a cramp.

The match was forced to stop. Zenit's players, hands on their knees, gasped for breath, sweat pouring down their faces. Their stamina, under Sun Yang's relentless pressure, was nearing its breaking point.

In contrast, Sun Yang was standing not far away.

Although his jersey was completely soaked with sweat and clung tightly to his body, his breathing remained eerily steady. He even had the leisure to stand still and do a few sets of standard high knees to keep his muscles warm.

Barrios stood beside Sun Yang, staring at him, a genuine look of terror appearing in his eyes for the first time. This was absolutely not the kind of cardiopulmonary function a normal human could possess.

The match has reached the 70th minute.

Zenit's defenses had long been torn apart under the relentless pressure.

Dortmund intercepted the ball in their own half, and Guerreiro seized the opportunity to launch a low through ball that pierced the right flank of the defense.

Sun Yang met the ball and turned smoothly, not even bothering to make any unnecessary feints. He pushed the ball forward heavily with the outside of his right foot, directly overtaking and starting his 100-meter sprint.

Zenit's left-back Santos gritted his teeth and desperately chased after Sun Yang, but could only watch in despair as Sun Yang's figure grew further and further away, leaving him with a trail of exhaust fumes.

Sun Yang dribbled the ball all the way down to the byline. When he was about two meters away from the byline, before the ball went out of bounds, he planted his left foot as the pivot leg on the grass.

His injured right leg swung backward like a long whip brimming with power.

Facing the rolling ball, he locked his ankle and, with a classic Beckham-esque pass, delivered a high ball curling towards the far post.

The god-level talent of "point and shoot" has been quietly activated.

The ball traced a high and exaggerated inward-spinning arc in the air, like a scimitar, precisely soaring over the heads of all the Zenit defenders in the penalty area who were trying to intercept it, and landing perfectly at the far post of the goal.

Haaland, the ghost of the penalty area, was already lying in wait.

Faced with the tempting prize right in front of the goal, the Norwegian wonderkid leaped into the air like a spring onion pulled from the ground. His massive body stretched out in mid-air, and he met the rapidly falling ball with a powerful header.

The ball smashed through Kerzhakov's goal, giving him no chance to react.

Three to zero.

After scoring, Haaland roared to the sky, roughly grabbed his jersey with both hands, sprinted to Sun Yang, and without saying a word hoisted Sun Yang onto his broad shoulders, running wildly around the corner flag area.

"I knew you'd get the ball to that spot. You're the fucking best playmaker in all of Europe," Haaland roared confidently, still carrying the player on his back.

The situation on the ground has been settled.

Terzic, who had been standing on the sidelines with his nerves on edge, finally let out a long sigh of relief. He turned around and waved to the warm-up area.

With the ball dead, the fourth official held up the electronic substitution board on the sidelines.

Dortmund made three substitutions in quick succession. Veteran captain Reus, Witsel, and Hazard came on to replace the injured Sun Yang, the exhausted Haaland, and Brandt for rest.

All 12,000 fans in the stadium stood up in unison.

A wave of applause, like a tsunami, swept through every corner of the stadium. Fans chanted the names of Sun Yang and Haaland, pushing the atmosphere to its peak.

Sun Yang walked to the sidelines and took off the captain's armband from his arm.

Sun Yang personally put the armband on Reus's arm and carefully smoothed it out.

"Well done, Sun. You were rock hard tonight. Now it's up to us old bones." Royce chuckled and patted Sun Yang's cheek.

"Don't hold back, Marco. Give them a couple more chances to thrash them and completely crush them." Sun Yang grinned and dragged his aching legs toward the bench.

Terzic grabbed Sun Yang on the sideline and ruffled his sweat-soaked hair.

"An unparalleled performance, Captain. Now, roll down and freeze your legs with ice packs."

On the bench.

Sun Yang and Haaland slumped side by side in their chairs. The two heroes simultaneously propped their right feet, wrapped in huge medical ice packs, high up on the barrier in front of them.

"Hey buddy, seriously. That free kick you took with your left foot today, the way it flared out was just inhuman. Teach me sometime?" Haaland chugged his water bottle, splashing water all over his chest.

Sun Yang raised his eyebrows and shook his head seriously.

"I really can't teach you. Your legs are too long, and you can't lower your center of gravity at all. If you use this move, your cruciate ligament will rupture on the spot."

Haaland rolled his eyes and gestured with his chin towards the dejected Russians on the field.

"Look at those guys, their legs are shaking. I bet they won't even be able to open a vodka bottle when they get back to the locker room."

Just as the two were joking with each other, the situation on the field suddenly changed.

Unwilling to accept a 0-0 defeat, Zenit players seem to be trying to salvage their pride by scoring an away goal as Dortmund has just substituted their substitutes.

In the 78th minute, Zenit defender Santos, eager to make a name for himself, lost control of his defense and made a vicious studs-up sliding tackle, sending Thorgan Hazard, who had just come on, flying out of bounds along with the ball.

Thorgan Hazard rolled on the grass in pain, clutching his ankle.

This shovel ignited the gunpowder barrel.

Sun Yang and Haaland, who were lying on the bench, were chatting and laughing one second, and the next second they jumped up as if they had been electrocuted.

Completely ignoring the heavy ice packs strapped to their feet, the two hopped and skipped towards the sideline using only one good leg.

"Fuck you. Are you blind? You went for the person!" Haaland pointed at Santos's nose and cursed, spitting almost in his face.

Sun Yang limped through the crowd, pointing fiercely at the arena: "If you can't handle losing, go back to Russia. If you dare use such dirty tricks again, I'll cripple you."

Dortmund's veteran player Reus immediately rushed up to stop Santos, and the players from both sides instantly surrounded each other and started shoving each other.

Referee Clattenburg was terrified and rushed over, blowing his whistle, to forcibly pull the crowd apart.

He not only gave Santos a yellow card for the foul, but also ran to the sidelines with a dark expression and loudly warned Sun Yang and Haaland, who were standing on one leg and looking aggressive.

"You two injured players, get back to the bench right now. The ice packs are all on the floor. If you dare to cause trouble or stir up any more emotions, believe me, I'll give you both a red card and send you back to the locker room."

After receiving a barrage of verbal warnings from the referee, Sun Yang and Haaland exchanged a glance before cursing as they picked up the ice packs from the ground and jumped back onto the bench.

This comical yet fiercely protective scene was perfectly captured by the broadcast cameras, eliciting a burst of good-natured and boisterous applause from the stands. Dortmund fans love watching the fearless, rebellious spirit of these young men.