One-on-One!

One-on-One!

The view returned to Bramall Lane Stadium, and the match went back into open-play attack and defense.

Maël's goal had ignited the passion in the stands, and it had also given Sheffield United's players even stronger drive and desire.

Bang! Bang!

They launched a fierce assault, with balls constantly being lofted into the box from both flanks.

Championship teams really could not produce any especially refined tactical combinations.

Creating overloads on the wings, or beating a man one-on-one, then putting in a cross, while getting as many bodies as possible into the middle to challenge for the cross—that was the most practical method.

As for the rest, playing the counterattack well and defending properly was already enough.

But whether simple tactics could be played well and executed properly depended on the coaching staff's pre-match research into the opponent, as well as the players' form and ability.

And judging from the present, Sheffield United's players were in good form!

In the twenty-first minute, another excellent chance arrived.

With a scalpel-like pass, Gilbert tore open a pocket of space in Portsmouth's inside channel, and Evans made a diagonal run to receive it.

Bang!!

He turned his body and swept a shot in one motion, the ball skimming along the ground toward the far corner of the goal.

It was a high-quality shot. Evans showed the level he ought to have, the whole shooting motion smooth and seamless! The goal guarded by Asdang was breached again.

He was too tall, and too slow to get down, unable to stop a shot like that.

The ball smashed into the side netting, then spun all the way into the inner net! Two-nil! Sheffield United's situation was excellent! "Oh!" The home fans erupted in cheers, and everyone connected to Sheffield United was swept into the wave of celebration.

That included the kit manager, coaches, grounds staff, security personnel, and so on. All of them happily hugged one another, raising their hands high as they joined the revelry.

As he ran toward Evans and Gilbert, Maël felt his mind suddenly become clear, and even his gaze turned unusually sharp.

Skill: Insight Lv2

Proficiency: (1/800)

Effect: After extensive match experience and being fed large amounts of videotape, you possess observational ability beyond ordinary people, and can occasionally catch small movements and details!

His observation skill had improved!

This was definitely a supportive skill that benefited his passing. It could help him improve his ability to read the game and better catch his teammates' movements! It could be said that before, when Maël crossed, he could basically only guarantee the quality of the ball, ensuring it had pace, curve, and could threaten the opponent's penalty area.

As for who he was passing to, he had not thought too much about that.

On one hand, his crossing ability was only Lv3 for the time being, not exactly the best.

On the other, with his current level of strength, just being able to shake free and create an angle to send the ball in was already pretty good. He simply had no time to observe.

But now, everything would be different.

He might be able to complete a rough observation in an extremely short time, and occasionally carry out a precise strike!

"Gilbert, you've finally blossomed in the assist department too."

Maël did not think too much about it. Right now, his emotions were still caught up in the celebration, and his improved observation counted as double happiness, so he might as well celebrate it all together.

"We watch tapes together all the time. You thought you were the only one whose football IQ went up?"

Gilbert smiled with a cocky look, feeling thoroughly vindicated. "I'm naturally no pushover either. Even a genius like you admitted with your own mouth that my talent is pretty good."

"Sure, sure, sure."

Maël had nothing to say to him, so he brushed him off with three "sures" and simply high-fived him.

He thought for a moment. If a person believed they were something, could they really slowly develop in that direction?

The first half ended like that, with Sheffield United returning to the locker room with a two-nil lead.

During the adjustments and instructions, Gareth Speed specifically brought up the conflict from the first half, his expression not looking very good. "Michael Brown is a famous bad boy in the league, with a very high red-card rate.

"He lost out in the first half, so he definitely won't just let it pass. In the second half, be careful of his retaliation."

He turned his gaze toward Maël and Gilbert in the corner. "Especially you two. You were the ones directly involved in the conflict. There's a saying in the United Kingdom: it's not the devil you fear, but the little imp."

As he spoke, he pulled out the tactics board. "That was from consideration of you as individuals. From the team's perspective, I've observed that Michael Brown's mind is no longer on the pitch.

"He's an important part of Portsmouth's defense, yet he's often out of position. Their left center-back often has to shift out to cover his position.

"Keep that in mind. Look for chances to exploit him being out of position, and attack the gap left behind when the left center-back comes over to cover. Understood?"

The players nodded, and Maël also pressed it into memory.

Sometimes, the contest on the pitch centered on one or two people.

They were all highly professional teams, and most players had the basic qualities required.

Forcing weaknesses out of them was far less effective than finding the flaws in one or two among them and focusing the attack there.

"Are you worried?"

Gilbert turned his head to ask him then. "Are you going to be scared?"

Maël did not react at first. After thinking for a moment, he realized Gilbert was talking about Michael Brown's retaliation. "No, but I'll be careful."

"This was aimed at me in the first place."

Gilbert lowered his head. When he lifted it again, his eyes were fierce. "If he wants revenge on you, then he can try me and see how I pay him back."

"Don't say things like that."

Maël smiled faintly and shook his head. "Protect yourself first. We're definitely going to run into people like this a lot in the future."

Gilbert said nothing more, but from the look on his face, he was probably still thinking about something.

"Blades! Blades!! Blades!!"

When the second half kicked off, the fans organized a unified chant. They beat the war drums and shouted the team's totem at the tops of their lungs.

Maël stayed out wide, keeping an eye on Michael Brown's movements at all times.

If anyone was best placed to catch the opponent out of position, apart from the center forward Bologanovic, who was close to this side, it was him.

As long as Michael Brown got careless and the opposing left center back was forced to step up and cover, he could quickly cut into the half-space! He kept running, waiting for that kind of chance.

After his Observation improved, he had that ability, and it had also bred that ambition in him!

Finally, in the sixty-third minute of the match.

Bang!

On Maël's third attempt to run into the space behind the opposing left center back, Janu Hans's pass arrived!

It was a low, skidding ground pass, not too difficult to control. Maël carried the ball straight into the penalty area, and out of the corner of his eye, he could already see plenty of fans rising from their seats.

"Don't foul!"

"Cover him, cover him!"

The panicked shouts of the Portsmouth players rang out. Their left center back and Michael Brown sprinted back in pursuit, while players from both sides also chased after Maël.

But clearly, it was already too late.

After his speed broke through to lv2, even if Maël still did not yet have the means to force his way past people with sheer power, once he got moving first, he would not be caught and overtaken by ordinary players.

This one-on-one was a battle between him and the goalkeeper. Everyone else could only add a bit of pressure at most!