Direct Free Kick Goal! Sold-Out Collectibles!

"Line up the wall! I want six men!"

Portsmouth's goalkeeper Asdang got busy, constantly waving his hands to adjust the angle of the wall. "Left! Keep going, a little more! Too much, half a step right! Good!"

He had come through Reading Youth Training and had played in the Premier League early in his career, but later couldn't adapt to the competition there, so he had spent the latter half drifting around Championship teams.

It could be said that this was an experienced goalkeeper.

He would not be careless or underestimate the enemy. This free kick was around twenty-five meters from goal, a distance that was neither too close nor too far, and was best suited for a Long Shot.

Before the match, when the Head Coach introduced Maël, he had said that Maël possessed a highly polished Long Shot.

"Come on."

He lowered his center of gravity and prepared to defend against a heavy cannon, while also guarding against Maël suddenly changing tactics and shooting with a Curled Shot.

As for the opponent choosing to pass?

He wasn't worried about that. A six-man wall wasn't an actual wall, not that rigid, and their positions also marked the offside line. The opponent couldn't cross it to receive the ball.

If Maël wanted to catch them by surprise, his teammates should react instantly, spread their formation, and mark the players.

"Hoo..."

Asdang took a deep breath. He saw that Maël had already begun his run-up.

"Oh—" At that moment, he also heard the excited voices of the Sheffield United fans on the touchline. Someone seemed unable to hold themselves back anymore.

They badly hoped that the goal he was guarding would be pierced through by one strike from this young kid in front of him! A faint smile appeared at the corner of Asdang's mouth. What goalkeepers liked doing most was naturally shattering other people's hopes, seeing others hold their heads in regret, and hearing the applause of their own fans.

"Put it in!"

In front of the penalty arc, Gilbert clenched his fists, hoping his good friend could lift everyone's spirits.

The atmosphere was here. All they lacked was a goal!

Most of the others also gritted their teeth in expectation. Their eyes shone as they fixed them on the ball, hoping to see it smash into the net in the next moment.

Bang!!

Under the gaze of everyone, Maël struck. He stretched his body to the limit, swung his leg to the limit of his flexibility, then put every ounce of strength he had into the shot.

A shower of debris scattered from where the ball had been, dirt and short grass ripped up from the ground and flew in all directions, displaying the power of the strike.

The ball went straight toward the space above the wall. Six Portsmouth players leaped high, wanting to block it.

"Block it!!"

Goalkeeper Asdang shouted, then lowered his center of gravity a few more degrees and judged the ball's landing point.

When he saw that the ball's landing point seemed to be right at the top of the Portsmouth wall, he relaxed slightly. This shot should be intercepted.

But then, whether someone was afraid of the speed of the ball or had tilted his body, the ball actually passed through the wall and flew toward the near corner!

Fuck—in that flash of lightning, Asdang didn't even have time to complain before he turned his head to the left with a numb expression, purely by instinct.

Swish!!

The ball struck the net, still carrying its remaining force, driving it into a violent spin before it dropped.

After shifting his center of gravity several times within a second, and then suddenly losing all momentum, Asdang quickly collapsed to the ground in an extremely twisted posture.

He closed his eyes, because he knew that what was coming next was a roar like the sky overturning.

He had failed to shatter the fans' hopes. He had merely become one part of Maël's play with the fans, become the backdrop.

"Yeah!!" Countless hands rose from the stands, and countless people threw hats and other light items out of the supporters' section, venting their emotions.

On the touchline, Gareth Speed got up again and rushed beside the fourth official, roaring at the fourth official who had ignored him just now, "Come on! Come on!"

He hammered his fist against his chest. In this fiery atmosphere, surging like a heat wave, even someone as calm as he usually was had begun attacking indiscriminately.

It was as if he were saying, No red card? Then we'll punish them with a goal! Everything had come at just the right time. When the team needed a goal, it really arrived! One-nil!

Maël had scored with a Long Shot! "Oh—!" Maël roared as he ran toward the touchline. He was the one who had struck the ball, so of course he had seen who had let it through.

In the middle of celebrating, he turned his head toward Michael Brown, who had just sparked the conflict, and smiled. "So you people are only tough with your mouths. Once you're really on the pitch, you don't dare use your face to take the ball for the team."

This wasn't moral blackmail. Professional players were tough, and from childhood to adulthood, they had no idea how many times they had been hit by footballs while playing.

Most people were not afraid of being hit by the ball.

Being hit in the face even hurt less than being hit in the abdomen or ribs.

But Michael Brown had still dodged. When he saw the ball flying toward the side of his face, he had instinctively been afraid.

Maël gave the furious Michael Brown no chance to trigger another conflict. He reached the touchline, leaped high, made a side-kick motion, and flying-kicked the corner flag in celebration.

All his anger and repression were released in that kick. Goosebumps rose over him, and the secretion of adrenaline made him feel as if he were Superman.

3 goals and 4 assists!

So far in his professional career, he had already created 7 goals! This was not a pitch that suppressed him, but a pitch that released him. He would eventually use this place to land in the Premier League.

On the bar street, inside Kodall's old shop.

"Maël is standing over the ball. He's preparing to take this free kick. We all know he has a heavy cannon shot with a high success rate, and every time it brings the goalkeeper no small amount of trouble."

Over a hundred fans had gathered here, the attendance surpassing a hundred people, and they were all staring at the television screen.

"The camera's on Asdang. He's an excellent goalkeeper, and now he's about to face off against Maël! Maël starts his run-up and blasts it at goal!!"

From the moment Maël began his run-up, Kodall had already raised both hands. It was probably his intuition acting up again.

"It's in!! Goal!! A brilliant direct free kick! Maël! That's his third goal of the season, and it's still his signature long-range cannon shot!"

"Oh!" Cheers erupted throughout the bar. Since it was an enclosed space, the shouts of over a hundred people still roared with the force of a vast army.

Plenty of people started clapping, and plenty more picked up their glasses and banged them on the tables with loud thuds. Everyone's emotions instantly reached a fever pitch.

"Maël!"

Someone shouted, then picked up the scarf he had bought when he first came in.

That move seemed to remind everyone. Someone immediately stood up and walked toward the bar where Kodall was.

"I want a scarf!"

"Our table is still 79 pounds short of spending 300. Put it all on stout for me."

"I want a hip flask! I'm taking it home to treasure!"

This time, there were actually people willing to buy the hip flasks. Collecting alcohol was, in fact, a common hobby all over the world.

It was just that before, they hadn't felt there was anything special about a flask of liquor with Maël's signature on it. They thought it was better to buy something practical.

But at this emotional high point, someone felt it had value!

A player who had debuted at Sheffield United and had limitless potential. A player who could stir up their emotions at any moment.

How could that have no value?

"If Sheffield United produces an academy player like Maël in the future, I'll definitely take out this flask and treat him to a drink."

Someone who had bought a hip flask held it up and said with a smile.

There were even people who, after getting their flasks, imitated him and said, "If Maël becomes a big star in the future, I'll keep this liquor treasured forever."

"And when I have a kid in the future, if he can get into the academy team, I'll definitely take it out and pour him a glass."

Quite a few whistles rang out. Everyone there seemed to support the two of them wholeheartedly.

Amid everyone's buying frenzy, the 25 limited items for the week quickly sold out, and Kodall could only explain from behind the counter.

"Everyone, come again next week. I believe Maël will still bring us a good experience next week."

He raised the glass in his hand and drained it in one gulp, grinning from the bottom of his heart with his teeth showing.

This promotion seemed to have been the right move!

Wait—if Maël really became a big star in the future, would that make him Maël's first brand partner?

Thinking about it that way, it was actually pretty glorious. The old man soon became rosy-cheeked again, running all over the place to toast and drink with everyone.

P.S. Happy National Day! A new month—asking for guaranteed monthly tickets! Let's charge up the new book rankings!!