The Bomb Exploded-My Back Was Killing Me!

When they were trailing 1-3, any team would panic.

But this Monaco side was truly a little unusual.

The minds of geniuses were always hard to fathom.

They did not panic. They did not try to launch several quick attacks and increase their shooting volume to raise their chances of scoring.

Monaco's left midfielder, Toma Tema, dribbled down the left flank for a long time, repeatedly toying with Ravellan through flashy technical moves.

To be fair, Lu Yang would have been delighted to run into this kind of ball-hogging behavior.

You dribble yours, I'll watch mine. We won't interfere with each other.

If you wasted time and delayed your chance, Real Madrid would not be the ones losing out.

But Ravellan was far too easy to provoke. He could not see it that way.

All he could think was... What the hell are you showing off for?

Bang!

Ravellan went straight in with a sweeping kick.

Of course, he did not crouch down to sweep.

That would have been absurd.

He swept while standing.

Tema was immediately brought down. His body twisted into a kneeling position in midair, and after hitting the ground, he rolled around in agony.

The next moment, Monaco's players rushed over.

"What are you doing?!"

"Is that how you defend?"

"Are you kicking the man or the ball?!"

"A dirty tackle?"

"You want to fight?!"

Young men had hot tempers, and they were already losing. It did not take much to ignite them.

Among them, Monaco's defensive midfielder Kaoyuka was the most explosive. He charged straight at Ravellan.

Who had Ravellan ever feared?

Over the past few years, he had risen to fame at Real Madrid and earned himself the nickname Martial Monk.

Where did they think that title came from?

Because he was bald?

Obviously