Football: Start with the Kaka template, dominate the football field!

While the entire Borussia Dortmund team was still sound asleep on their chartered plane back to Germany, a media storm surrounding the "Vilodrome Miracle" had already swept across the entire European continent.

The following morning, the front pages of sports media in almost every country were dominated by that thrilling match.

France's most authoritative sports newspaper, L'Équipe, unusually did not focus on the defeated local team Marseille, but instead devoted an entire page to a photo of Qin Feng's back as he delivered the fatal back pass in the final moments.

The title is full of French romance and admiration: "The Conductor of Verrodrom".

The article states: "On that most breathtaking night, an 18-year-old boy, with his composure beyond his years and incredible creativity, conducted a symphony of decisive victory worthy of being recorded in Champions League history. He didn't score, but he was the sole artist at the Stade Villedrome that night. We seemed to see a young Cruyff."

In Italy, the headline of the Italian newspaper *La Gazzetta dello Sport* was filled with regret for their group rivals Napoli: "Napoli's Tears: 12 Points, Still Out!"

"...The moment Grosskreutz's shot pierced Mandanda's defenses, it wasn't just the Marseille fans who wept, but also the Neapolitan fans back at the San Paolo Stadium. They had won the battle against Arsenal, but lost to the miracle that the Chinese genius from Dortmund unleashed in the last second."

The Guardian in the UK praised Klopp and his team, writing: "Klopp's iron will: relentless, heavy-metal football that sounds the strongest note in the group of death!"

Overnight, the names of Borussia Dortmund and Qin Feng spread throughout every corner of Europe with unprecedented fervor. He was no longer just a "yellow lightning bolt" in the Bundesliga, but a true "key player" who proved himself capable of changing the course of a battle on the highest stage of the Champions League.

……

Evening, Dortmund, Qin Feng's rented apartment.

He had just finished a day of recovery training, taken a shower, and was preparing to make himself a simple dinner.

The phone suddenly rang at that moment.

The screen displayed an unfamiliar number from Madrid, Spain.

Qin Feng's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. He pressed the answer button.

"Feed?"

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone. Then, a slightly hoarse voice, both familiar and unfamiliar to him, came through.

"It's me, Zidane."

Qin Feng's grip on his phone tightened unconsciously. He didn't speak, but listened quietly.

"I watched last night's game." Zidane's voice was devoid of much emotion. "That last pass... was brilliant."

"You've grown up, Qin."

Zidane paused for a moment, seemingly organizing his thoughts.

"A few months ago, in my office, I made a judgment about you. A professional judgment based on data, experience, and the club's interests."

"Looking back now," he said with a hint of self-deprecation, "that judgment was the worst one I ever made in my career."

"I'm not calling to discuss the future, nor am I representing the club. I just... want to say something to you as a former player myself..."

Silence fell again on the other end of the phone. Qin Feng could even hear the other person's heavy breathing.

After a long while, the hoarse voice rang out again:

"...I'm sorry. And congratulations."

"You proved yourself to be a true warrior in the most difficult way. I am proud of you."

After saying this, Zidane hung up the phone immediately, giving Qin Feng no chance to respond.

Qin Feng slowly put down his phone and let out a long breath. Zidane... the legend who had once personally "sentenced" him to death, had just admitted his mistake to him.

This was more shocking to Qin Feng than any praise from the media.

……

Meanwhile, in Madrid, Valdebebas.

The atmosphere in the Real Madrid president's office was so oppressive it was almost palpable.

Zidane had just hung up the phone when he pushed the door open and walked in.

Florentino, the business tycoon who controls the Galactic Empire, is watching the highlights of Qin Feng's assists and game-winning shots playing on a loop on the screen with a grim face.

"You called him?" Florentino asked without looking up, his voice icy.

"Yes," Zidane replied calmly.

"Very good." Florentino turned off the screen, leaning back in his large boss's chair. "Now, tell me, what should we do?"

"One summer ago, to save a mere few million in contract renewal fees, we let go of a talent whose value has now increased at least tenfold. We made him a laughingstock throughout Europe and provided the perfect fodder for our arch-rivals, the Barcelona media, to mock us!"

"Now the whole world knows that Real Madrid is blind to talent!"

Florentino's voice wasn't loud, but every word struck Zidane's heart like a heavy hammer.

"Mr. Chairman, the mistake has been made." Zidane's face was expressionless as he met Florentino's gaze and spoke each word clearly.

"What we should be considering now is not assigning blame, but how to make amends."

"Make amends?" Florentino sneered. "How can you make amends? He just renewed his contract with Dortmund! That madman Klopp treats him like his precious jewel! And that old fox Watzke considers him absolutely irreplaceable!"

"In this world, nothing is not for sale," Zidane said firmly. "There are only prices that aren't compelling enough."

Florentino's eyes narrowed.

He saw an unprecedented determination in Zidane's eyes.

"you mean……"

"Initiate all assessments for bringing 'The Son of the Wind' home," Zidane said. "Get the technical, marketing, and legal departments up and running immediately. I don't want Real Madrid to miss out on him a second time."

Florentino looked at Zidane in front of him and remained silent for a long time. Finally, he slowly nodded.

"it is good."

……

The next day, when the entire Dortmund team regrouped at the Blaker training ground, the locker room was still filled with the euphoria of victory.

"Qin! You bastard!" Da Shizi immediately gave Qin Feng a bear hug. "I've been dreaming about that goal! Seriously, when you passed the ball, did you see me?"

"Of course," Qin Feng laughed, breaking free. "I saw a guy wearing a number 19 jersey charging up from the backcourt like a mad bull. Who else could it be but you?"

"Hahahaha!" Laughter erupted in the locker room.

Captain Kyle walked over, patted Qin Feng on the shoulder, and said with admiration in his eyes, "You played well, kid. Making the right choice under that kind of pressure is more important than scoring ten goals."

Just as everyone was chatting and laughing, a long-lost system notification sound rang in Qin Feng's mind.

【Ding! 】

[Host detected to have completed an epic highlight performance: a "deadly assist in a crucial Champions League match"...]

Template integration accuracy increased by 6%!

[...Current template integration level: 38%!]

【Ding! 】

[Host template fusion level detected to have exceeded 35%...]

[Skill [Long-Distance Raid] Proficiency Increased!]

Current skill level: C → C+

A warm current surged from the heart once again, flowing to every part of the body.

Qin Feng could clearly feel that his legs seemed to have become lighter and more explosive. He subconsciously moved his ankles, and an unprecedented sense of control came over him.

He gazed at his blurry yet clear reflection in the windowpane. His youthful face had lost all its naivety, replaced by a powerful confidence that commanded his own destiny and an undisguised ambition.

During the afternoon's intra-squad scrimmage, he took the initiative to approach the team's defensive linchpin, Mats Hummels.

"Matz, want to play one-on-one again?"

Hummels paused for a moment, then laughed: "Alright, kid, let me see how much of that energy you had in the Champions League is left."

Hummels adopted a professional defensive stance, lowering his center of gravity and positioning himself sideways to block Qin Feng's path to cut inside. He knew that the worst thing you could do against a speedy player like Qin Feng was to let him accelerate in one step.

Qin Feng dribbled the ball, slowly approaching him. There were no fancy moves, just simple flicks of the ball left and right.

Just when the two were less than two meters apart!

Qin Feng's body suddenly swayed slightly to the left, and at the same time, he made a feint with his right foot as if he was about to dribble the ball to the outside!

Hummels' center of gravity shifted slightly to the side! He prepared to use his strong body to push Qin Feng out of bounds!

But at this very moment!

Just as Qin Feng's right foot was about to touch the ball, it suddenly and rapidly turned inward at an extremely strange frequency!

The entire movement was executed with lightning speed!

It was a pure, irrational change in rhythm!

Hummels felt as if his ankle had been twisted by an invisible force! He tried to shift his center of gravity and attempt a second block, but he had completely lost his balance!

He could only watch helplessly as the yellow and black figure flashed past him from inside the paint!

Hummels stood there, his face showing genuine shock.

He looked at Qin Feng's retreating figure, then at his own legs that had just lost their balance, and muttered to himself unconsciously:

"This guy... has gotten stronger again?"