"Ding! You've acquired the player skill Starting Player. When you take the field as a starter, you'll receive a five percent boost to all attributes."
"Ding! You've acquired a one-time Moment Card: Zlatan Ibrahimovic!"
"Damn! Damn, damn, damn!"
Lu Yang stopped opening packs. He still had one random gift pack he hadn't opened, so it looked like he could save that one for later, too.
It was Ibrahimovic!
With him, what was there to worry about in the next match?
This was the Ibrahimovic who only scored wonder goals!
The Ibrahimovic who said, "God is number one, I'm number two!"
The Ibrahimovic who was the Red Hare among horses and Ibrahimovic among men!
To be fair, Ibrahimovic's life had been full of controversy. His arrogance was second to none, but his ability still fell short of Messi and Ronaldo's. Even later players had managed to rival him. But his goals could always shut everyone up.
When it came to spectacular goals, who could surpass Ibrahimovic?
The system was clearly hinting to Lu Yang: In the next match, you wouldn't just have to win—you damn well had to win in style!
"Hey!" Moric hooked an arm around Lu Yang's neck. "Do you really think we can beat Bisceglie? They're at the top of the league right now!"
"And Arnold's really fast. He feels about as quick as Vedian—they're both like black tornadoes. How are you going to defend him? He's not as frail as Vedian, losing the ball as soon as someone touches him."
Vedian, standing nearby, was covered in black lines. "Um... isn't that comparison a little disrespectful?"
Moric laughed. "Telling you what you're lacking to your face is a sign of respect, Vedian. You really need to work on your strength. That way, when you go... you'll be able to shine."
Moric didn't mention Benevento or Serie B, the sensitive subjects. Vedian's departure next season was a little secret known only to the three of them.
"Don't worry. I've watched Arnold play. He isn't as fast as Vedian, just a lot stronger. The fact that a Serie B team has noticed him has a lot to do with Bisceglie's strong overall record. He isn't as good as everyone thinks."
"You can see that from the goals, too. In an environment like that of a league-leading team, he's only scored two more than Vedian. That actually says a lot."
"Arnold is undoubtedly Bisceglie's star player, but the boost he gives the team isn't nearly as significant as you'd think. Actually, that's what we should really be worried about."
"Even if I shut down Arnold, Bisceglie could still score!"
After Lu Yang finished, Moric and Vedian grew serious.
That meant they had to create chances on offense in their next match.
Only goals could win a match.
"Don't worry. Vedian and I have built up some chemistry. We've been training extra these past few days, and I'm getting used to his style." Moric gave an OK sign.
Match day arrived soon.
This time, San Remo were playing away.
When they reached Bisceglie's home ground, they were greeted by a deafening roar.
At least two thousand people had turned out to watch Bisceglie play at home.
In Serie D, that was an absolutely incredible attendance.
It had a lot to do with Bisceglie being at the top of the league. Promotion was an enticing prospect at any level.
Of course, plenty of those two thousand spectators had also come for the juicy drama between Lu Yang and Arnold.
"Is that Arnold? He looks really fast."
"Of course he's fast. He's the second-fastest sprinter in Serie D, just a hair slower than Vedian from San Remo. But he creates more than twice as many chances!"
"That's the importance of core strength, physicality, balance, and all the rest." Hans chatted with the fans nearby. Seated in the stands, he wanted to witness Lu Yang fulfill his promise with his own eyes.
In fact, two seasons ago, Arnold had been just like Vedian was now: very frail and poor at physical challenges.
It was Hans's suggestion that had made him start taking that part of his game seriously.
But after he made a name for himself, he'd actually... Forget it. Hans would only get upset if they brought it up.
"Who's that? He's so young. He looks like a little kid who hasn't even hit his growth spurt!"
"He really hasn't." Information was harder to come by in those days, and there were no nationwide broadcasts, so few people knew about Lu Yang. Hans began filling them in. "His name's Lu Yang. He's sixteen, and in the last match he broke Italy's records for youngest player to appear and youngest player to score."
"You've definitely heard of him. At the beginning of this year's Italian Celebrity Match, he scored an incredible goal. He nutmegged The Butcher, Soto, fooled three Serie A-level defenders, tricked a Serie A-level goalkeeper with his eyes, and scored! His shot was like felling a tree with an axe. Ring a bell?"
"That was him? I know that goal! It was beautiful! By the way, is he a forward? He doesn't look very tall."
"Uh... he's a center back?"
"What? Hahaha, a center back? He's not even six feet tall. Did they bring him here to hand us points?"
"His defensive ability is excellent. He's brought a whole new look to San Remo's back line."
"Come on, don't exaggerate. They conceded forty-six goals in the first half of the season. What could possibly save San Remo's defense?"
Hans didn't argue, because the match was starting.
Unlike in the last match, Lu Yang and Moric were both in the starting lineup this time.
They were still underage and hadn't fully developed physically, but San Remo's situation was too dire to leave their talents on the bench.
With San Remo's back line, Soto might as well have conceded outright if he didn't start Lu Yang.
As for San Remo's midfield, Moric was the only player on the team with genuine playmaking ability. Without him to organize and control the game, San Remo couldn't even manage the simplest long-ball tactics. All they'd do was hoof the ball clear.
On the field.
Arnold was the team's right forward, directly matched up against Lu Yang.
He stood beside Lu Yang and said, "You're that Lu Yang? I hear you're going to shut me down."
Lu Yang shook his head.
Arnold laughed. "Too late to back down now. I'm going to teach you a lesson."
Lu Yang replied, "I shook my head because that's not just what you heard. I'm going to shut you down!"
Arnold's face darkened.
Damn it!
Bisceglie's number seven was Arnold, but the team's true heart was their number ten, a midfielder capable of sending through balls that could kill a defense.
Their number nine was a target man, whose main job was to receive the ball and create chances for Arnold.
That showed Arnold's true level.
With the team's playmaker and target man both setting him up, and plenty of attacking chances as the league leaders, he'd scored only fourteen goals in twenty matches.
Look at the conditions Vedian had to play in before, and you'd realize he was actually pretty good.
Bang!
The opposing number ten quickly sent a precise through ball, and Arnold had already made his forward run.
But Lu Yang stuck out a foot and broke up the pass, intercepting it cleanly.
On the sideline, Soto threw his arms up in celebration, finally at ease.
He'd known the kid could do it.
Lu Yang's defensive positioning and interceptions were truly excellent by Serie D standards.
Without Lu Yang, San Remo would probably have already conceded.
A few minutes later, an even more dangerous situation arose.
Bisceglie's number nine managed to receive the ball and shield it. He was incredibly strong, and neither San Remo's midfielder nor their other center back could dispossess him.
After holding the ball for a while, he waited for the right moment, then launched a lofted long pass toward the right side of San Remo's half just before the defenders could close him down.
There was a huge gap there.
Arnold sprinted forward, received the ball, and charged straight toward San Remo's goal.
San Remo's right back was chasing him, but the gap between them kept widening.
"Here he comes! Arnold's on the break!"
"Wow! San Remo's right back can't keep up with Arnold at all. Now there's only a sixteen-year-old academy player between Arnold and the goalkeeper. He can't stop him!"
"A goal is coming!"
"Oh, we can see that Lu Yang, the center back, is retreating quickly, trying to block Arnold's path. This is a battle between defender and forward."
"Lu Yang's idea is good, but he's too young. When you're running backward at full speed, it's very easy to trip over your own feet."
"Arnold's doing stepovers, but he hasn't lost much speed. Those feints are enough to throw any center back off balance—or even make him fall."
In the blink of an eye, while Arnold's feet flashed over the ball in a flurry of stepovers, Lu Yang—who had been retreating all along—suddenly darted forward and poked the ball away.
The ball flew off, and Arnold crashed into Lu Yang.
Arnold fell to the ground, putting on a pained expression.
But the referee shook his head, indicating that it wasn't a foul.
Lu Yang quickly kicked the ball to Moric, then turned to Arnold on the ground. "Your dribbling rhythm is awful. A lousy trick like that could hardly get you past any professional footballer."
Arnold felt humiliated. He sprang up and charged at Lu Yang.
Lu Yang didn't flinch. He puffed out his chest and stood his ground.
Arnold bounced off him and staggered backward.
After all, Lu Yang was a center back, while Arnold wasn't particularly strong even for a forward. Their physical attributes weren't in the same league.
The referee hurried over to separate them and warned Arnold to stop causing trouble.
Arnold looked thoroughly displeased.
On the sideline, Soto was delighted. He danced around as he said to Tom, "See that, Tom? That's the kind of defense I want! Stopping the opponent is a must, but you also have to be tough!"
"Think about San Remo's matches. How long has it been since our players got into a heated face-off with anyone? A soft player might steal a few honors, but a soft team won't win any honors!"
Tom was covered in black lines. Could he take that as a jab at Maniero?
"Yeah, Lu's defensive retreat footwork is excellent. It's the most important basic skill for defending against fast players." Tom gave a halfhearted response.
But deep down, he agreed with Soto about being tough.
You didn't have to play dirty, but you couldn't be soft!
Over the next half hour, Lu Yang fully demonstrated his dominance in defense.
Whether it was a ground through ball, a lofted pass, or a long cross-field ball, he made sure Arnold came away empty-handed. Most of the time, Arnold couldn't even touch the ball before Lu Yang intercepted it.
Bisceglie's usual tactics had failed. Their blade had gone dull.
The two teams went into halftime tied at zero.
But Soto wasn't optimistic. He thought the opposition would likely make targeted adjustments in the second half and change their approach. For example, they might have their number nine step up, stop acting as a target man, and try to become a finisher instead.
After all, the number nine's center-back matchup was far easier to deal with than Lu Yang.
As for Soto... It wasn't that he didn't want to make adjustments. He simply couldn't.
Should he have Lu Yang mark the number nine?
Then Arnold would be free again, wouldn't he?
They had two, maybe even three blades, while Soto had only one shield. He was bound to leave something exposed.
"Attack! We have to find a way to attack!" That was the only message Soto could pass along to the team.
The second half began.
Three minutes later, the fans at Bisceglie's home ground erupted into cheers.
"GOAL!"
Their number nine shrugged off San Remo's right center back, charged into the penalty area, and scored.
Lu Yang had been forced to stay near the edge of the box to mark Arnold and prevent the number nine from passing to him.
"See? This is what you get for sticking with me. We're invincible! We're top of the league!" Arnold tried to rattle Lu Yang with his words.
But he underestimated Lu Yang's mental fortitude.
"But you haven't contributed a thing!" Lu Yang shot back.
Arnold froze, practically bursting with anger.
The fifty-ninth minute.
Bisceglie repeated the same play. Arnold dragged Lu Yang away, while their number nine took on San Remo's right center back one-on-one.
But this time, Moric stepped in. He'd already been playing as a defensive midfielder and had moved back early, putting him in a position to double-team their number nine.
However, the number nine's ability as a target man shone through once again. With the center back behind him, he hooked an arm around Moric and passed the ball back toward the top of the penalty arc.
Bisceglie's number ten, their star playmaker, rushed onto it and fired a powerful shot.
The ball ripped through the net. The goalkeeper was helpless, nowhere near making the save.
"GOAL! It's all over. San Remo can't stop Bisceglie's attack!"
"Bisceglie always have one more key player than San Remo. That's the difference in overall team strength."
"Lu Yang did shut down Arnold, but you could just as well say that Arnold tied him up!"
"I have a feeling there are more goals to come. San Remo could very well lose by more than two!"
"This is going to be a glorious rout!"
"The remaining thirty minutes will be torture for San Remo."
The commentators offered their opinions, most of them quite professional.
Even Hans furrowed his brow.
Lu Yang had done what he'd promised, but San Remo and Bisceglie simply weren't in the same league.
It was a gap no individual could make up for.
What a shame.
"Hey, has San Remo's center back even been on the pitch this match? Why are we scoring so easily?" Arnold taunted Lu Yang again.
Lu Yang stayed calm. If the Ibrahimovic Moment Card didn't have a time limit, he'd planned to save it for the very end. He could've let Arnold see the glory of God right now.
But even without using the Moment Card, Lu Yang already had a way to break the deadlock.
Bisceglie weren't as strong as they seemed.
They had at least two fatal weaknesses!