"Beautiful!"
"It's in!"
"Li Luo!"
"On his national team debut, he scored the first goal of his international career."
"A thunderclap from nowhere! A lone charge through the ranks, Treading Wind-Fire Wheels, straight to the heart of the defense!"
"Powerful and ruthless!"
"Unstoppable!"
"He tore through the Japan National Team's entire defense by himself."
"He took them for a walk... A whole pack of Japanese players."
The commentator and Coach Zhang nearly leaped out of their seats.
Luckily, they remembered in time that they were wearing pajama pants.
They had to show some discipline.
No, no. Restraint.
Across China,
countless viewers were beside themselves with excitement. Rooted before their televisions, they watched the replay of the goal, unable to look away.
Stunned.
Utterly stunned.
Individual heroism at its purest.
Whether they normally watched football or not, everyone was captivated by Li Luo's raw, explosive power.
And the opponent was the Japan National Team.
How could anyone's blood not boil?
At Tianhe Stadium,
tens of thousands of Chinese fans gave the young player their loudest applause and cheers.
A beam of light in the darkness.
Hope born from desperation.
Red flags fluttered in the wind.
The sea of red surged.
Li Luo fought to steady his breathing. He wanted to celebrate: it was his first international goal.
But he couldn't.
His team was still behind.
He stepped past Shusaku Nishikawa, hurried into the net, scooped up the ball, and ran back toward the center circle.
At that,
the applause from the home stands grew even louder.
Many kept clapping hard and smiling, even after their palms began to sting.
Livestream Room.
slow-motion replays showed the young Chinese player's goal from every angle.
Comments flooded the screen.
—[My eyes are about to pee.]
—[That was insane! Our Li Luo destroyed the Japan National Team all by himself!]
—[He walked them like dogs. Watch the replay: after Li Luo broke through alone and entered the Penalty Area, a whole swarm of blue shirts went running back.]
—[What a boost! Aaaah! So handsome! My husband!]
—[Li Luo doesn't want a husband.]
—[What's going on? I watch the Bundesliga, and Li Luo always looks so slight. His style is elegant and effortless. But tonight, going up against the Japanese midfield, he looks so fierce and powerful?]
—[I thought Shinji Kagawa played differently in the Bundesliga and for the national team. Li Luo's difference is even bigger.]
—[Against the intensity of Europe's top five leagues, Li Luo is delicate as Lin Daiyu. Against this Japan National Team tonight... he's Lin Daiyu laying waste to the Grand View Garden.]
—[Am I dreaming? This feels incredible. Seeing Li Luo score was enough for me. I thought he might never touch the ball, disappear, get shut down, and take the blame. Even if the China National Team loses tonight, Li Luo hasn't.]
—[That's the talent you get from an elite club academy. The way Li Luo connected that high-speed run to the shot was top-class. Only a top striker can do that.]
—[I know the gap between the teams, but... I still want Li Luo to score another.]
Wails rose from the away stands.
Japan Football Association officials looked uneasy as they relived that terrifying moment.
Li Luo had charged in like he was Treading Wind-Fire Wheels, scattered the defense, and led a whole pack of Japanese players around!
As though walking dogs.
It was a shocking sight.
"Wow, is Li-san really that strong? Has the gap between us grown so wide that numbers can't make up for it?"
"That pressure he gives off... that brilliance you can barely look at."
"Aguirre said he'd shut Li-san down. He said he'd destroy Chinese football's dream..."
Polite in small matters, yet lacking in greater principles; fussy over trifles, yet lacking in virtue.
The Japan Football Association officials stared at Li Luo on the pitch as though they were watching Chen Zhen from Fist of Fury enter the Hongkou dojo and face an endless stream of Japanese fighters alone.
"Damn it! What are we afraid of?"
"The Japan National Team is still a goal ahead. They'll never equalize."
On the touchline,
Perrin's breathing quickened, and his cheeks flushed.
This felt wonderful.
Mr. Hecking hadn't lied to me. Put Li on, and the game would change.
Assistant Coach Li blew his fringe out of his eyes and kept pounding the turf in excitement.
Translator Zhao, round and resembling Guo Degang, stood between the French and Chinese assistant coaches.
He kept pressing both hands downward.
"Stop talking."
"I don't need your suggestions for the next adjustment."
"The boss said Li—my man Li Luo—can play however he wants."
Everyone paused, then suddenly understood.
They turned
toward Perrin, standing in the technical area in his suit, and seemed to see in him the bearing of a famous coach like Mr. Hecking.
Word of Hecking's advice to Chinese football gradually spread far and wide.
A Friend of Chinese Football: Mr. Hecking.
Mr. Hecking's Famous Words: Stand Firmly Behind Li Luo as the Team's Centerpiece.
On the other side,
Aguirre staggered, but an assistant caught him in time.
"Damn it."
"How could Li tear our defense apart so easily?"
"Shit. The China National Team's confidence is rising, and this home crowd is getting louder..."
"Keep attacking! Score more goals and crush their momentum!"
The assistant stared at him, baffled.
Boss, isn't defending your specialty?
The Japan National Team hired you to fix its defense.
We're a goal ahead. We can still win if we keep things tight.
He didn't argue.
Forget it. The China National Team doesn't look like it can hold out anyway.
Several Japanese assistants huddled together, chattering as they analyzed every instant of Li Luo's run. They gathered material for a post-match review!
An in-depth review!
The China National Team players exchanged looks.
Gao Lin scratched his head. "Let's not overthink it. Just play like we do alongside foreign players at our clubs. Give Li Luo good service. When we attack, move more and pull defenders away for him."
"When we played in the AFC Champions League, when were we ever scared of those J.League teams?"
"Even when our foreign players were injured or suspended, were you scared..."
"What do you mean, 'you'? We're all the same!"
"They've got Keisuke Honda and Shinji Kagawa. We've got Li Luo."
Mixed emotions washed over Hao Junmin. "Just now, Li Luo made me feel like I was back at Schalke 04, watching Raúl and the others tear through defenses from a distance."
"Stay sharp. We can't concede again."
The Japan National Team's spirits hadn't suffered. If anything, they burned brighter.
Shinji Kagawa raised a hand to apologize to his teammates.
But he found Keisuke Honda and the J.League players brimming with determination.
"Having an opponent like Li-san in Asia is something to be grateful for."
He was the best possible test in Asia.
"Make the most of this chance to face him."
Play restarted at the center circle.
After kickoff, the Japan National Team resumed its fierce attack.
Perrin swept his arm from the technical area, signaling the China National Team to defend deep.
They had to follow Mr. Hecking's football philosophy to the letter: defend solidly, seize transitions, then pass to Li Luo and let him build the counterattack.
"Right."
"Don't rush."
"There's still time. Keep the defense solid. Don't let the Japan National Team sneak in another."
"Li Luo's moving constantly and directing his teammates... Coach Zhang, can you read his hand signals?"
"Heh heh heh. Not a clue."
The commentator was a little disappointed. He had hoped to explain them to the viewers.
Coach Zhang kept chuckling.
Li Luo's hands moved too fast, just like a young Cruyff's. Never mind him—even the Chinese players on the pitch might not be able to keep up.
The seconds ticked by.
The atmosphere at Tianhe Stadium swelled.
"Li Luo!!!"
"Li Luo!!!"
"Li Luo!!"
Boom! Boom! Boom! The thunderous drums joined the chant!
It almost felt as though a powerful home-field buff really was at work!
Li Luo kept running, covering teammates and filling gaps in defense.
The geometric model in his Spatial Awareness was working at full speed.
What he felt tonight was different from the Bundesliga.
It was a contradiction.
Easy, yet exhausting.
Tactics at national-team level were much simpler than in Europe's top five leagues.
It wasn't that national team coaches were less capable. The circumstances were different: they had far less time to train together.
Of course, some teams did bring a club system into the national side. Spain, for example, had won three major tournaments in a row.
The seconds continued to tick by.
Far away in Europe, in Lower Saxony,
afternoon sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, falling softly across the gray carpet.
Hans, a Volkswagen executive, looked displeased. "How can Perrin use Li like this? From a commercial standpoint, I'm worried he'll get hurt."
Hecking shook his head. "He won't. Li's physical attributes and all his metrics are excellent."
"The intensity of this match is different."
"He's chosen a different way to play."
He's mowing down weaker opponents.
No one in the Japan National Team's midfield could match Li Luo physically or in Spatial Awareness.
Hans nodded. "Then can Li win this match?"
Hecking leaned toward the television. "Wait. Let's see a close-up. Hm? That look on Li's face means he's already found a way through."
He could tell from that?
The Volkswagen executive turned and stared at him, eyes wide. "You really are a great coach!"
"Hm?"
"What is he doing?"
"Damn Perrin. How could he make an elegant player like Li shoulder so much defensive work?"
At Heavenly River Sports Center,
the night was beautiful, and singing rang out.
"What's going on?"
"Is Japan National Team's buildup getting messier and messier?"
"Ball-winning."
"In front of China's defensive line, Li Luo was everywhere, using his elite vision and precise anticipation to cut off passing lanes."
"A midfielder's defensive contribution isn't always obvious on a live broadcast. Usually, only the sharpest viewers can see it."
"As for why his positioning is so accurate? We'll have to go through the footage frame by frame after the match to find out."
"Heh, China's Matthäus."
Japan's attackers were having a miserable time.
Shinji Kagawa and Keisuke Honda had been disrupted again and again.
Forget launching attacks or supplying the pass before the assist.
Even their long balls to switch play were sometimes shut down.
And whenever a J.League star faced Li Luo directly, the gap in class was overwhelming.
They couldn't pick up the pace.
They couldn't change the rhythm.
Li Luo had dramatically eased the pressure on China's defense.
Shinji Kagawa was knocked down again and again, scrambling awkwardly back to his feet each time.
His feelings were complicated.
"Li-san must have eyes all over his body.
"He's fast and covers so much ground.
"Our passing moves keep getting cut off.
"Everything is under his control."
The geometric model in Spatial Awareness became a bird's-eye view of the pitch.
Grass clippings covered Li Luo's body.
He seemed to see an enormous Japanese warrior in blue-and-black armor, wielding a katana.
A clumsy Blue Samurai.
On a tactical level, Japan looked painfully clumsy compared with Leverkusen, Everton, and Inter Milan.
Shinji Kagawa and Keisuke Honda were their two playmakers.
Honda never changed his approach.
And the moments when Kagawa rotated into a shadow-striker role were far too obvious.
As for the other J.League stars? They took too long on the ball.
A Bundesliga powerhouse was mowing down J.League small fry!
The 72nd minute.
"Li Luo must have the highest rating on the pitch. Besides that goal, his ball-winning and tackling numbers are incredible."
How had the J.League's finest turned into fodder for Li Luo's stats?
The commentator added reflexively, "China National Team is running out of time."
In the Livestream Room:
[Wouldn't have noticed the time if you hadn't said anything.]
[Why have Real Madrid and Chelsea been able to park the bus and break out so often in recent years, with such good counterattacks? Yet when weaker teams park the bus, even a successful interception just lets the opposition start another attack?]
[Player quality. A bus parked by a team full of stars is a different beast. Their defensive organization matters too, but that's hard to explain quickly.]
[Li Luo's making a huge difference. He's fighting so hard.]
[Why do I feel like this Japan side is turning Li Luo into prime Matthäus?]
[So cool. One man against Shinji Kagawa and Keisuke Honda.]
[During the stoppage, the director cut to the Japanese players' wives and girlfriends. What did I just see? Amelie Seto.]
[Impressive. You recognized Amelie Seto with her clothes on.]
The ball slowly rolled over the goal line.
Li Luo got up off Shinji Kagawa.
He brushed the grass from his eyebrow.
He gestured to his China National Football Team teammates and shouted, "Keep those two pinned down—Shinji Kagawa and Keisuke Honda. Defend against the other J.League guys the same way you do in the AFC Champions League."
"Don't rush. Wait patiently for a chance to counter!"
It was plain language.
Even a grade-schooler could understand it.
Of course, the Japanese players couldn't understand much of it. In Japan, it was only table tennis players who knew Chinese well.
"J.League guys?"
Shinji Kagawa had caught that phrase.
He jerked his head up. Li-san is praising me. He acknowledges my ability... Having an opponent like this really gets the blood pumping.
There's an old Chinese saying.
Great minds recognize each other!
He got to his feet and looked at Li Luo with solemn reverence.
If they hadn't been in the middle of a match, he might have prostrated himself on the grass.
"A corner for Japan National Team."
"Beautiful."
"Gao Lin dropped deep and used his height to head it clear."
"Japan would love to have a big center forward like Gao Lin. Their best forwards are all short, and someone like him would give their tactics another dimension and make their attack more varied."
"I'm not making that up. People in Japan have actually said it."
"A chance for China National Team to counter!"
"Don't launch it high. Keep it on the ground, keep it on the ground. Make this count."
"Zhang Linpeng, playing center back tonight, finally gets back to his usual role and surges down the flank with the ball!"
"No need to panic. These national-team players have won the AFC Champions League. They know how to support a superstar."
"See? No aimless high ball."
"He knows exactly where he's passing—to Li Luo!"
Japan National Team didn't press to win it back this time.
The whole team sprinted back.
They hurried into defensive positions.
They were terrified Li Luo would charge through them single-handedly again.
The tens of thousands of Chinese fans at Tianhe Stadium had waited anxiously for a counterattacking chance. Now they erupted.
The roar inside Tianhe Stadium swelled again.
Perrin and his assistants couldn't help pumping their fists as they ran along the touchline.
Aguirre bellowed for Japan National Team not to drop too deep, ordering them to form a compact mid-block at once.
Near the center circle.
Li Luo moved toward the rolling ball.
Shinji Kagawa and Keisuke Honda closed in from either side.
The Japanese fans were confident: one man couldn't beat him in a physical duel, but surely two could!
Then—
They saw something unbelievable.
Li Luo dropped a shoulder and stepped across.
His right foot met the ball at an angle.
Tap.
He pushed off with his left foot.
In one clean, effortless touch, he controlled the ball and slipped past Shinji Kagawa.
The next instant—
The Chinese youngster's feet traced a dreamlike pattern.
He slowed.
Accelerated.
Left foot down.
Left foot down.
Right foot down.
It was like a dance.
A touch to cut across!
Keisuke Honda, trying to intercept, felt despair creeping in. What kind of foot speed is that? How is he touching the ball so fast?
In desperation—
AC Milan's number ten lost his balance and fell awkwardly to the turf.
"What?"
"Lingbo Microsteps."
"Wow!"
"How many touches did he take in two seconds?"
"Unbelievable."
"It's like a dream..."
At that moment, Coach Zhang couldn't think of any player to compare him to.
Elite foot speed was like an advanced martial art.
Every star who possessed it expressed it differently on the pitch, according to his own strengths.
Every spectator stared in disbelief.
They had expected Li Luo to get into a physical tussle with Japan's two stars.
Instead, he had produced a devastating combination.
Space.
Time.
A clean turn away from his markers.
Dreamlike foot speed.
That was incredible!
What?
The same thought flashed through the minds of the Japanese fans, Japan Football Association officials, and Japan's assistant coaches.
They were terrified.
Aguirre trembled all over.
"Shut him down!"
"Destroy Chinese football's dream!"
"Japan National Team cannot concede again!"
China's coaching staff, who had been running along the touchline, slowly came to a halt.
Perrin's face was flushed.
Assistant Coach Li crushed a mineral-water bottle in his excitement.
It was a surprise beyond words.
Like finding an oasis in the desert.
Humble Hecking had never mentioned that he'd unlocked Li Luo's potential for such rapid footwork.
"It's not over!"
"Japan National Team isn't trying to cut off his passing options this time."
"They're throwing everything at Li Luo to surround him!"
"Taishi Taguchi is closing in from behind at an angle!"
"The J.League's tackle king, nicknamed the Okinawa Deer—"
Before the commentator could finish—
Li Luo stopped dead, dragged the ball back, and turned.
Taishi Taguchi couldn't stop his momentum. He stumbled straight past.
"Li Luo touches it again, shifts his weight, and keeps driving forward!"
"He's shown too much of the ball. Danger! Gaku Shibasaki is charging in from behind—the J.League's best midfielder!"
"No."
"Li Luo did it on purpose!"
"A shoulder drop with his back to goal! He drags the ball around in a standing turn! Gaku Shibasaki misses and lands flat on his face!"
"Now he's really driving forward!"
"One elegant escape after another."
"The Japanese players can't even touch him."
"Calm and unhurried, as if he were out for a stroll."
Through it all—
Li Luo had torn Japan National Team's midfield shield apart.
He did not pass.
He kept driving forward.
His ball control stat of 60, combined with Spatial Awareness, brought a qualitative transformation to the Kroos and Zidane modules.
In the Livestream Room.
-[Fucking awesome!]
-[Why didn't he barge through them this time? Knock the ball ahead and go past them?]
[Japan's mid-block was packed, with everyone in proper defensive positions. Without room to build up speed, even the strongest player can't keep carrying the ball and bulldozing people.]
-[You fuckers type so fast.]
The China National Team's midfielders and forwards surged ahead.
Wu Lei, Gao Lin, Hao Junmin.
The three stretched the attack wide.
They knew how to do the dirty work for a superstar.
Japan's back line quickly pulled inward.
Too late.
Li Luo drove into the final thirty meters of the Japan National Team's half.
A golden phantom rapidly took shape in his field of vision.
Germany's number 10.
Matthäus.
The man and the phantom gradually synchronized their strides and movements.
He leaned.
Raised his arm.
Swung his leg.
Unleashed colossal force.
At that moment, the Japan National Team felt utter despair.
Whoosh!
The terrifying sound of contact rang through the night sky like a thunderclap.
The ball rocketed away.
Unstoppable.
Savage and overpowering.
Sweeping aside everything in its path.
The Blue Samurai's chest was pierced clean through, and they crashed to the ground.
The white flags in the away stands trembled endlessly in terror, accompanied by sobs, then slowly fell as though their poles had snapped.
The white net twisted violently out of shape.
2–2!!!
One strike shattered the Yamato spirit.
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