Football: Messi, I am your wallbreaker!

Chapter 83 A Sense of Oppression!

Li Jing was trapped in the ice.

So much has happened during this time, and since returning, he has found himself with an even stronger desire for the championship.

Thinking about tomorrow's plans, Li Jing turned on the video about Seville again.

Tomorrow's match is crucial for him. He needs to find a way to exploit the opponent's defensive weaknesses and use the time the ball hangs in the air to complete his mission.

Therefore, it is necessary to know more about the other party.

Such goals, achieved while airborne, are truly rare and precious.

But if you want to force it, you must take the initiative to create opportunities.

He watched the video frame by frame carefully, trying to find the weaknesses of the Sevilla defenders.

Relying on his Iron Man-like abilities, he can recover to his condition for the next day.

And tomorrow's match will be held in the evening.

Li Jing decided to stay up all night and started watching Sevilla's match videos repeatedly.

Night!

It covered the sky above Calderon Stadium.

The turf has just been evenly watered by an automatic sprinkler.

Powerful searchlights shone straight down from the top of the stands, making the tips of the green grass glisten with a clear, glossy sheen.

Li Jing, wearing a red and white striped warm-up vest, jogged out of the players' tunnel.

He jogged to the sideline, his feet sinking into the damp grass.

He bent down with his right hand and scooped up a black and red patterned soccer ball from the edge of the grass.

Li Jing straightened up and casually tossed the ball at his feet.

He casually placed his right foot on the top of the ball and slowly raised his head.

The moment more than 50,000 Atlético Madrid fans caught sight of Li Jing, they all stood up from their red plastic seats.

Cheers rained down in waves, making the metal railings of the stands vibrate and hum.

The sound waves rolled heavily down from the highest point, filling the entire stadium.

Front row area.

An elderly fan wearing a red and white scarf began shouting violently!

"plum!"

The elderly fan, his voice slightly hoarse, shouted loudly into the stadium.

"Let's go again tonight!"

Li Jing turned his head and heard the shout clearly.

He tilted one side of his face up slightly and gave a faint smile.

Then he raised his right hand and gave a thumbs-up towards the older fans.

I liked it.

The media cameras on the sidelines were flashing wildly.

They really like players like Li Jing; he's not only photogenic.

And he's so damn handsome, he'll even cooperate with them for magazine covers.

Li Jing is perfect; no wonder he has so many female fans!

At the same time.

Domestic broadcast room.

Commentator He Wei wore heavy noise-canceling headphones and rested his hands on the table.

He extended his right index finger and quickly clicked on the computer screen in front of him to bring up the starting lineup information for both teams.

"Welcome to Calderon Stadium, everyone."

In this round of La Liga, Atletico Madrid will host Sevilla.

He Wei picked up the red pen on the table.

"Let's take a look at the starting lineup. Simeone is still using the 4-2-3-1 system. Falcao is the lone striker up front."

The pen tip glides across the screen.

He Wei drew a heavy horizontal line under Li Jing's name.

"And Li Jing is positioned in the attacking midfielder area, which is the number 10 position."

He Wei put down his pen and clasped his hands together.

"Everyone, please note that Simeone's positioning of Li Jing is very clear. This is the most cunning aspect of his tactical setup."

"Li Jing appears to be an attacking midfielder. But his actual movement on the field makes him look like a shadow striker."

He Wei spoke faster, forcefully pushing the arrow on the tactical board towards the penalty area.

"He abandoned the tedious playmaking in midfield. Simeone doesn't need him to organize and orchestrate the play."

"Li Jing conserved all his physical strength and power, just so he could make that fatal blow by penetrating the penalty area at the last moment."

"This is also the underlying logic behind his recent abnormally high data!"

The director's fingers flew across the console.

The screen at the bottom immediately displayed a row of eye-catching white data bars.

"Joined midway through the season, making 5 appearances across all competitions."

"Scored 16 goals."

He Wei looked at the teleprompter and paused for a moment when he read out the string of numbers.

He even suspected that the director might have entered the wrong data.

The live stream chat exploded with comments at that moment.

The entire screen was completely submerged in dense white text.

"Holy crap! 16 goals in 5 games? What kind of alien species has that scoring rate?"

"In less than half a season, he's almost produced what others do in a whole season!"

"The gears of this goal-scoring machine are spinning so fast they're about to fly off!"

Several red, high-level bullet comments slowly swept across the top, extremely eye-catching.

"That's outrageous! If he were to play a full season—"

"Messi's incredible record of fifty goals is probably not enough for him to surpass!"

Countless fans watched in front of their screens as those simple yet brutal numbers were displayed.

I was so shocked that I couldn't find any other words to describe it.

This efficiency has completely shattered common sense about modern football.

The match is about to begin.

The broadcast camera abruptly zoomed out from the grass.

The scene abruptly shifts to the VIP boxes at the top of the Calderon Stadium.

Instead of immediately switching the camera back to the scene, the director gave this corner a five-second high-definition close-up.

A man was sitting on a leather sofa in the corner of the private room.

He was wearing a gray baseball cap.

The brim of the hat was pulled very low.

She was wearing a black turtleneck sweater.

Deep-set eyes, and a bald head under his signature hat.

The man crossed his arms over his chest, leaned slightly forward, and stared at the stadium below.

In the broadcast studio.

He Wei gasped, his voice rising immediately with barely suppressed surprise.

"Guardiola!"

"Barcelona's current manager!"

He Wei leaned closer to the microphone: "Guardiola is actually in the stands at the Calderón for this match!"

"However, this is completely understandable."

He Wei immediately calmed down and stared at the screen, quickly adding background information.

"Barcelona suffered a major upset in their last away game, losing 2-3 to Osasuna."

"There are only a dozen or so rounds left in the league. And Real Madrid's points are already far ahead."

"For Barcelona, ​​every remaining game is like walking a tightrope."

He Wei tapped on the table.

"If they want to win the championship, they can't afford to lose a single game. Even a draw would be a death sentence."

He Wei tapped the table lightly with the pen in his hand.

"And next week, Atletico Madrid will face Barcelona away from home."

"Guardiola clearly sensed an extremely dangerous atmosphere."

"He has come to regard this Atletico Madrid team, which has Li Jing, as the biggest obstacle on their road to winning the La Liga title in the second half of this season."

Hearing He Wei's analysis.

The comments in the live stream instantly changed direction.

Everyone's attention shifted from the data to the bald man in the private room.

"Guardi actually came to scout the area in person? Even the head coach of the 'Dream Team' is this afraid?"

"Nonsense! A monster with 16 goals in 5 games, anyone would be afraid of him!"

"They're playing Barcelona next week, Guardiola's here to probe Li Jing's capabilities!"

"Stop touching it! If Li Jing goes on a rampage again tonight, Guardiola will probably smash the tactics board to pieces when he gets back!"

Fans' discussions have reached a fever pitch, and their anticipation for the next round of the league has already been heightened.

In the stands of Calderón.

Guardiola's expression was extremely serious.

The muscles along the jawline tighten slightly as you clench your teeth.

He reached out his right hand and slipped it into the inside pocket of his coat.

He fumbled around with his fingers for a bit and pulled out a notebook with a black calfskin cover.

The edges of the notebook are worn, indicating that it has been frequently read.

He then casually pulled out the metal pen clipped to the edge of the cover.

Guardiola removed the pen cap and laid the notebook out on his lap.

The pen tip hovered over the slightly yellowed paper.

His gaze pierced through the brim of his hat, locking onto the grass below.

Our gaze returns to the brightly lit lawn.

The referee, holding the silver metal whistle, strode towards the center circle's service point.

The wind, carrying moisture, blew across the stands.

Sevilla's center-back Fazio stood outside the penalty area arc.

From his perspective, the red and white jerseys exuded a sense of pressure unlike anything he had ever seen in a game before!

Is this how those teams felt when they faced Atletico Madrid at the start of the game recently?!

Fazio took a deep breath.

None of the players in red and white jerseys talked much.

They simply stood silently in their respective positions.

The entire Atletico Madrid halftime field seemed to be covered by a layer of red and white murderous aura that made even breathing feel sticky.

Suppressed, suffocated.

The players, dressed in red and white jerseys, were all constantly tiptoeing in place.

Fazio wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

Atletico Madrid's starting eleven has been finalized.

With three seconds remaining before the kickoff, the clock struck midnight.

Li Jing plays in the attacking midfield position.

Falcao in front, Costa to the side, Gabi behind.

Almost simultaneously, the group seemed to hear a silent, unified command.

No one spoke, and there was no communication through gestures.

But at the moment the referee raised his arm...

Everyone jumped high in the air twice in unison!

Take off.

Fall.

The metal studs on the soles of the sneakers, carrying the full weight of the body, sank heavily into the soft, wet grass.

Fine bits of mud and water were squeezed out by the shoe spikes and splashed in all directions.

"Bang! Bang!"

The dull thuds of footsteps echoed simultaneously across the Calderon pitch.

That was an extremely terrifying level of physical synchronization.

The muscles of eleven people are on the same highly excited frequency.

This completely identical pre-match warm-up routine made the opposing Sevilla players' scalps tingle.

The referee was unaware of the escalating tension between the two teams.

He raised his left wrist, his eyes fixed on the watch face.

The second hand ticked away, eventually reaching the hour.

The referee immediately shoved the silver whistle into his mouth, his cheeks puffed out, and the airflow burst through the reed at the whistle opening.

"Beep—!"

A long whistle, extremely sharp and penetrating.

It instantly pierced through the frenzied atmosphere of Calderon.

The competition has officially begun.

The whistle had not completely dissipated.

Li Jing's thigh muscles suddenly tensed up.

The powerful explosive force flows directly from the soles of the feet to the thighs.

The cleats tore through the turf with extreme brutality, plowing two deep mud tracks into the ground.

He went all out, charging furiously towards Seville's half of the field!

Sevilla's defensive midfielder Medel has just received a back pass from his teammate.

Before he could even lift his head, he caught a glimpse of a red and white shadow hurtling toward him at an absurd speed.

That's incredibly fast!

Medel was startled.

He had absolutely no time to observe the passing lanes ahead.

He could only instinctively step his right foot back, preparing to forcefully shield the ball and turn.

However, he completely underestimated the enormous momentum and power brought about by Li Jing's sprint.

Li Jing didn't slow down at all.

When they were half a meter away from Medel.

He simply slumped his left shoulder forward.

Using the purest form of physical confrontation, he crashed directly into it.

"Bang!"

Their shoulders collided solidly.

It produced a dull, thumping sound of muscles colliding.

Medel felt a hard bump on her shoulder.

His balance was instantly disrupted, and he stumbled uncontrollably to the side, falling directly onto the grass.

No foul was committed.

This is the most reasonable shoulder impact.

The football rolled out of the water.

Li Jing hooked the ball with his foot and controlled it firmly at his side.

It only took seven seconds to get going!

Complete the interception in the attacking third directly!

The Atlético Madrid fans in the stands were ignited by the frenzied opening before they even had a chance to sit down.

"Charge! Crush them!"

The sound instantly rose eight octaves.

Li Jing dribbled the ball and charged towards the penalty area.

Sevilla's defense was caught off guard at the start of the game, with center-back Fazio hastily moving forward to block.

He lowered his center of gravity, put his hands behind his back, and prepared to block Li Jing's inside cut.

During a high-speed advance, Li Jing suddenly flicked the ball outwards with the inside of his right foot.

Fazio thought he was going to go down to the byline, so he immediately moved his feet.

Just as Fazio's center of gravity shifted.

Li Jing suddenly exerted force with his ankle, domineeringly twisting the ball back and directly slicing it past Fazio's side!

There are no fancy bicycles, only pure explosive power and speed in changing direction.

Fazio stretched out his leg to trip Li Jing, but didn't even touch Li Jing's jersey.

Break into the restricted area!

Goalkeeper Palop was shocked and immediately rushed out of his goal, spreading his arms to try to expand his defensive area.

Li Jing raised his head.

His gaze passed under Palop's armpit and locked onto the inside of the far post.

He pulled his right leg out in a very short arc.

It doesn't require much leg swing space; it relies entirely on the instantaneous burst of power from the calf.

He struck the ball hard with the instep of his foot against the bottom of the ball.

"when!"

The ball left his foot at an astonishing speed, turning into a blur.

Fortunately, the goalposts saved Sevilla's life this time!

A dull clang of metal being struck rang out!

This blitzkrieg failed!

The entire Calderon Stadium came to a brief standstill.

None of the fans even realized what had just happened.

Two seconds later.

The deafening cheers completely ignited the entire stadium, almost lifting the roof off.

Although they didn't score, their passion was enough to ignite their spirits!