"The ball's in!"
"Beautiful!!!"
"The Chinese team scores first!"
"A goal from Lin Feng!"
China Central Television's broadcast studio was filled with the commentators' excited voices.
They were so loud that even the director beside them was startled.
It was no wonder they were so excited—the goal had come at exactly the right time!
After the second half began, the South Korea team's attacks had come in wave after wave. Many people had thought the National Football Team's defense line was on the verge of collapse, and that conceding was only a matter of time.
Yet just as their opponents were about to score, the Chinese team struck back and broke the deadlock first.
The thrill brought by such a stark reversal was like eating an ice-cold watermelon in the height of summer—absolutely refreshing.
"Lin Feng is fucking awesome!"
"I told you the kid could do it!"
"Haha, those South Korean Defenders are completely fucking stunned!"
"They can't catch him, they just can't! All they can do is eat dust behind Lin Feng!"
Posts on Tieba and the Forum refreshed at a blistering pace.
At that moment, the domestic football scene had completely erupted.
Meanwhile, on South Korean Forums, South Korean fans were howling in despair:
"Ah, fuck! What the hell are those guys on the defense line doing?"
"Why didn't they stop their number eight?"
"South Korea team, pull yourselves together!"
"Eleven against ten, and you still let them score? Did these guys not wake up yet?"
"If you lose this match, all of you should go enlist in the army!"
Though they could not hear the fans' online curses, the South Korean internationals on the pitch already felt enormous pressure.
Especially the few Defenders who had just faced Lin Feng. Their gazes toward him were full of wariness.