A thunderous bang.
The ball slammed into the junction of the post and crossbar like a cannonball, then bounced back out.
The fans throughout the stadium let out a sigh of disappointment.
Barcelona's defense broke out in a cold sweat.
Pique read the ball's trajectory. With no time to adjust his position, he launched straight into a bicycle kick and booted the ball away.
Clear it first, worry about the rest later!
Pique's clearance was a beauty. It sailed past the Valencia players charging up the middle and went straight to the left flank, where Li Mingyu was waiting.
Holy crap!
That was a bit too much good fortune all at once!
Just a moment ago, it had looked like his team was about to concede.
And now, in the blink of an eye, the ball was right in front of him.
Li Mingyu hooked the ball with his foot, spun around in a flash, and launched it downfield toward the opposition's half.
But at that moment, the only person in the other half was the goalkeeper, standing near the edge of the six-yard box.
Who was Li Mingyu passing to?
Had he made a mistake?
Suddenly, a figure appeared on camera.
It was Li Mingyu, sprinting full speed toward the ball.
Only then did everyone understand.
What do you mean, a bad pass?
He'd passed it to himself five seconds into the future!
All right, stop watching. You couldn't pull that off!
Since Li Mingyu's kick hadn't been aimed down the middle, the goalkeeper didn't dare rush out. Instead, he stayed inside the six-yard box, watching Li Mingyu on the wing with tense eyes.
Valencia's players hadn't yet recovered from seeing their shot hit the post when Li Mingyu caught them off guard with a sudden counterattack.
The defenders began sprinting back as fast as they could.
Li Mingyu was on the wing, while the defenders were in the middle. The shortest distance between two points was a straight line.
In theory, the defenders should have reached their positions before Li Mingyu.
But Li Mingyu's speed proved that while the shortest distance between two points was a straight line, the straight line wasn't necessarily the fastest route!
It didn't take five seconds. In less than two, Li Mingyu caught up with the ball he'd kicked more than ten meters ahead. He pushed it forward hard with his right foot and charged straight for the goal.
Li Mingyu had started his run from midfield. The defenders closer to the goal had already begun chasing back, but by the time Li Mingyu reached the edge of the penalty area, the nearest defender was still about three meters away.
There was no way anyone could stop Li Mingyu from facing the goalkeeper at that distance.
The goalkeeper charged out again, cursing under his breath and waving his arms around, trying to intimidate Li Mingyu.
In truth, the goalkeeper was thinking, Come on, man. If you're going to score, just score. Don't keep faking me out. It's humiliating!
Li Mingyu seemed to have read his mind. As soon as the goalkeeper came out, he deftly chipped the ball with his right foot. It sailed over the goalkeeper's head and dropped neatly into the goal.
The goalkeeper reached out desperately, but still couldn't touch the ball. All he could do was watch it sail over his head.
0–3. Mestalla Stadium fell as silent as a graveyard.
The defenders racing back saw the goal and dropped to the ground, looking utterly dejected.
Damn it, they'd run so hard their guts were about to burst, and still hadn't caught up. They'd just had to watch him score. What did that feel like?
Think about it. Really think about it!
This time, Li Mingyu didn't get the "affectionate treatment" from his teammates. He'd run too fast—Griezmann, Messi, and the others hadn't even made it into the opposition's half. Li Mingyu was the only one there.
Back in Barcelona's half, everyone had surrounded their center-back, Pique, and was celebrating wildly.
From far away, they heard Pique shamelessly shout, "That was my assist! I passed it to Li on purpose. He didn't let me down—he didn't waste my brilliant assist!"
No shame!
Absolutely shameless!
Barcelona's players were all cursing inwardly. He was trying to claim credit for that, too!
But after that emotional roller coaster—from nearly conceding to scoring in less than ten seconds—they didn't care how shameless Pique was. They crowded around him and gave him the same three-part treatment they'd given Li Mingyu.
Once everyone finally got off him, Pique looked like he'd just been mauled by a gang of burly men. He rubbed his backside and growled, "Who kicked me in the ass? Step forward!"
But everyone just laughed and walked away.
Pique rubbed his backside and grumbled as he returned to his position.
Li Mingyu stared wide-eyed, but he hadn't seen who kicked Pique in the ass.
Holy crap, that ass-kicking maniac was good. He'd really kept his identity hidden!
Just you wait. One day, I'll catch you myself.
When I do, I'll kick your ass until it's in pieces!
Hey!
What the—
Why is everyone coming after me again?!
Nooo!
Li Mingyu had thought he'd escaped after everyone finished celebrating.
But as soon as he ran back to his own half, Messi and Griezmann beckoned, and a crowd of burly men came over with "kindly" smiles.
Ruffling his hair, patting his back, kicking his ass.
Surrounded by the crowd, Li Mingyu wore an air of detached resignation, as if he'd seen through the vanity of the world.
There was no point resisting. He could only endure it in silence.
He endured it today so he could explode tomorrow.
If he couldn't explode tomorrow, he'd keep enduring it. One day, he'd get his chance!
That day wasn't far off!
Barcelona's players had been through a roller coaster, from despair to wild elation.
Valencia's players, meanwhile, were sitting beneath the roller coaster.
First came elation—the goal had been within reach.
Then the post denied them, and to make matters worse, the rebound gave their opponents the chance to launch a quick counterattack. In less than ten seconds, everything had turned upside down.
Valencia's players all felt like heading back to the locker room.
Was this really their home stadium?
They'd have to tear out that goal and replace it after the match!
In the ninetieth minute, Valencia pushed forward desperately to attack, but lost the ball in the attacking third. Barcelona seized the opportunity and sent a long pass from thirty-five meters out, straight to the sprinting Li Mingyu.
Li Mingyu raced against the tracking Lee Kang-in. Two strides behind, he leaned forward with his chest just as the ball bounced off the ground and Lee Kang-in stretched out his foot to kick it. He narrowly avoided Lee Kang-in's boot and brought the ball down in front of himself.
Having failed to stop the ball, Lee Kang-in had no way to halt Li Mingyu's advance.
A wide-open road stretched out before Li Mingyu. As he sprinted forward, he struck the crowd with the force of a horse charging through enemy ranks.
Li Mingyu wasn't especially muscular, but with those long legs, he ran with effortless grace, like Zhao Zilong charging into battle again and again.
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