Click.
Click.
Camera flashes blazed.
Photographers pressed their shutters.
The moment went down in history: the moon and stars, the grass, the cheering crowd, the waving red flags, and the young Chinese player striding out into the wind.
In the livestream chat,
comments flew past.
—[Quick, play the music!]
—[He's so handsome.]
—[Even the wind, stars, and moon are celebrating the arrival of China's prodigy.]
—[I know we can't win this match, but I'm happy just to see Li Luo play.]
—[Even if Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo came on, they couldn't save the China National Team.]
—[It's too early to celebrate. Football is a team sport. One player can't change anything.]
—[How did Japanese fans get in here?]
Li Luo jogged onto the pitch and flashed a few hand signals to his teammates.
Whether they understood him or not.
The Japan National Team players' expressions turned serious. Fire seemed to kindle in their eyes.
"Li-san is here."
"We have to give it everything!"
Play restarted at the center circle.
The China National Team had possession.
Gao Lin kicked off and passed back into his own half.
Players on both sides broke into motion, their formations overlapping at the halfway line.
"Kid... Japan's pressing high."
"This is dangerous."
"Oh no."
"Shinji Kagawa's press worked! Yu Kobayashi has the ball."
"Oh, they're picking up the pace on the counter! Someone stop them!"
The commentator's voice rose in alarm.
Coach Zhang looked frantic.
It was true. Li Luo was an attack-minded player... he couldn't save Chinese football.
Yu Kobayashi's footwork was among the best in the J.League.
His left foot came down on the ball.
He leaned, selling a shift in his center of gravity.
His right foot knocked the ball in a new direction.
Smack!
"He's past him."
"Huh?"
The diminutive Japanese striker danced past a Chinese player.
But the instant he burst forward—
Smack!
The ball vanished from his feet.
He stumbled away as if he had bounced off a wall!
Li Luo brought the ball under control and passed it back.
Then he started directing his teammates while moving into position.
"What happened?"
"Beautiful!"
"Li Luo got into position just in time."
"A perfect read."
"Hm? That position... look where he was just now!"
"Heh, he cut off Japan's entire counterattack by himself."
"His reading of the game, his vision—top class."
At Tianhe Stadium,
the roar surged.
What a lift!
Japan had tried to toy with them, and Li Luo had cut the move in half!
On the touchline,
Perrin's jaw dropped.
In the Bundesliga and Europa League, Wolfsburg had two bruising midfielders, so Li Luo never needed to do that sort of work.
No, wait.
Beside the tough, powerful players in Europe's top five leagues, Li Luo looked rather slight.
But compared with the Japan National Team...
On the other side,
Japan's assistant coaches looked horrified.
What?
What?
"Busquets?"
"Li Luo plays like Busquets!"
"One of the J.League's best forwards couldn't do a thing against him?"
"Shut up! Your chatter's driving me mad!"
Aguirre swept out an arm.
"Stick to the plan! Use the overlapping press and cut off every forward passing lane Li Luo has!"
"Force him where we want him!"
"Shut him down."
The ball returned to Li Luo's feet.
Japan's tactical discipline was strong.
They didn't throw everyone at the Chinese prodigy.
Instead, they marked the other Chinese players tightly
and severed the China National Team's passing routes.
Shinji Kagawa looked focused as he closed in on Li Luo, thinking through the play.
This match is simple.
The China National Team's off-the-ball movement is flawed when they attack. Li-san can't organize play the way he does at Wolfsburg.
Those exquisite passes of his... they won't threaten us.
He isn't Busquets. His role is Xavi's, Pirlo's—the brain and soul of a team...
The elegant conductor.
The Greenfield Prince.
I've studied how you turn away from pressure!
Let's settle this!
Li-san!
Under Aguirre's plan,
the others would cut off Li Luo's forward passing lanes.
Then the nearest midfielder would close him down one-on-one and stop him from breaking through.
As it happened,
at that very moment,
Shinji Kagawa, dubbed "Japan's Captain Tsubasa," had taken on that one-on-one task.
He was weak in physical contests, but he defended by reading an opponent's center of gravity.
Under the floodlights,
the gap between them... narrowed.
Tens of thousands of spectators at Tianhe Stadium grew tense.
Dortmund's number seven versus Wolfsburg's number ten.
Two of Asia's finest midfielders, face-to-face.
Shinji Kagawa watched for a shift in Li Luo's center of gravity.
Where's the shift?
The feint?
The move to get away from me?
The two figures crossed paths.
Kagawa could only watch as the ball flashed past his side.
In the next instant,
the collision hit him like a hammer and knocked him aside!
The stadium erupted in shock.
"Whoa!"
"A Ball-and-Player Split!"
"Li Luo didn't beat him with the elegance he showed in the Bundesliga—he simply powered straight past the 62-kilogram Shinji Kagawa!"
"Mat—"
"Matthäus!"
Tens of thousands of Chinese fans roared themselves hoarse!
This was different!
The China National Team looked like a different side!
Li Luo drove the ball across the halfway line.
Then he changed direction and went down the outside.
The Japan National Team players stuck to their coaches' instructions: keep cutting off China's attacking connections and passing lanes.
"Li-san."
He'll slow the tempo, then use his passing and vision to bring the team into shape...
"What?"
"Why is he still charging forward with the ball on his own?"
"What happened to the elegant conductor, the Greenfield Prince?"
The Japanese fans in the away stand looked terrified.
Their earlier swagger faded as the young Chinese player charged through their ranks alone.
"He's fast!"
"Li Luo!"
"Kosuke Ota, the J.League's best right-back! Nicknamed the Machida Tiger, he's one of Asia's finest players in both attack and defense!"
"Danger!"
"Whoa!"
"He's passed the ball to himself three seconds from now!"
"He's overtaking him on the outside!"
Smack!
Li Luo knocked the ball ahead.
He took a quick step and accelerated.
Giroud Teaches You a Second Burst!
Treading Wind-Fire Wheels.
In the game, Kosuke Ota, with only 54 speed, felt his pupils dilate.
A chill ran through him.
The timing was off.
Li Luo accelerated, then accelerated again, leaving the J.League's top fullback no chance to stop him head-on!
He was clear.
Li Luo had torn through one side of the Japan National Team's defense with the ball!
Across the land to the east.
Countless fans watched on television.
Even people who never watched football stared, dumbfounded.
Overwhelming.
Strength and speed.
The rawest kind of spectacle.
The boy raced through the wind like a meteor piercing the China National Football Team's long night.
Tianhe Stadium.
In the away stand, Japan's enormous white flag seemed to slip from its holders' hands and came crashing down.
Perrin nearly fainted with joy.
Aguirre looked as though he had fallen into an abyss, his face blank.
At the same time.
Li Luo had already driven into the Japan National Team's penalty area.
The Japanese players had long abandoned their "cut off the links" tactic and swarmed back in panic.
Shusaku Nishikawa lowered his center of gravity.
He took up a K-Block stance.
All the while, he watched Li Luo's stride and the angle of his foot.
The J.League's finest goalkeeper.
Bang!
76 shooting.
Tiger Descends the Mountain.
The ultimate emperor of the Chinese Super League.
In an instant.
Japan's wall of lament was smashed apart by a single shot!
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