Soccer: If they're using these kinds of cheats, what's the point of training?

After the arrogant referee left, Fofana approached, and DiGal's eye twitched.

"Dude, that guy's tough. I've got a yellow card now, so it's not good for me to go after him."

Wow, Digar is sacrificing his own friend for his own good. He suffers a loss himself but doesn't want Fefana to suffer the same fate.

In the 25th minute, Zhang Kuang received the ball and was hit hard from behind by Fofana, causing him to stumble, but the referee did not call a foul. Zhang Kuang chased after him to block him, and he reached out to stop Fofana, but quickly delivered a knuckle strike to Fofana, who then cried out in pain, clutching his chest.

At that moment, the referee blew his whistle and ran over to ask what was going on.

"I don't know, we were just positioning ourselves normally, and then he fell down and yelled in pain. I think Nice players are really good actors, it's like they graduated from La Masia Film Academy."

The referee almost burst out laughing when he heard this, but Fofana wouldn't have it. He lifted his shirt to show the referee his arrogant attack.

"Referee, he attacked my chest, look..."

"What am I looking at? There's not even a red mark here, not even a trace. It's completely clean. You're telling me he attacked you? Should we get an ultrasound scan to prove it?"

Fofana paused for a moment, then suddenly realized something.

"He must have used some secret method; Digar was also tricked like that just now. Digar, come here, did this Chinese man attack you?"

Digal lifted his shirt: "No, he didn't attack me."

Fofana: "..."

He looked at Digar in surprise, not understanding why Digar didn't report this damned Chinese man.

Referee: "I'm warning you, if you try anything funny again, I'll give you a card."

The referee blew his whistle once to signal the game to continue, and the Auxerre teammates who had just run over hadn't even had a chance to complain before the game resumed.

"Want to keep playing? I'll make you suffer to death." He covered his mouth with his hand as if wiping sweat and asked Fofana in a low voice in French.

Fofana was stunned for a moment. He wanted to expose the arrogance, but then he felt a pain in his waist. When he clapped his hands, there was nothing there.

Now he was somewhat frightened by the arrogant look in Zhang Kuang's eyes; no wonder Digard dared not utter a sound.

Pedretti noticed Zhang was still entangled with Fofana and shouted from midfield, "Zhang! Get out! Don't fight them to the death!"

Zhang Kuang glanced back at the captain and nodded. He no longer positioned himself at the forefront of the attack, but instead began to drop back to the midfield area to receive the ball.

Twenty-seventh minute.

Pedretti received the ball in the backfield, and although Digar clung to him like glue, Digar dared not approach Zhang Kuang.

Pedroti shielded the ball at his feet, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Zhang Kuang retreating from the edge of the penalty area. He shook off Digar and flicked his right foot.

Pedretti passed the ball over.

Zhang Kuang received the ball with his back to goal, and Fofana thought for a moment before immediately closing in.

This wasn't the first time Zhang Kuang had received the ball with his back to the goal, but this time he didn't choose to confront it head-on. Instead, he flicked the ball with his left foot and turned his body to the right—passing the ball past him!

Fofana was caught off guard and reached out to grab the arrogant jersey, but only managed to grab air.

"A wild, back-to-goal pass! A beautiful dribble past Fofana!" Jean-Christophe Barthes, the commentator for the French television sports channel, rang out again from the Allianz Riviera stadium's broadcast booth. He had also commentated on the Auxerre match in the previous round, and today he was the guest commentator for this game.

Zhang Kuang dribbled forward, and Nice's defense was quickly retreating. Nice's center-backs Mbiwa and Ooye formed a tight formation, one marking the front and the other providing cover.

Zhang Kuang looked up at the goal – about thirty meters away, three steps from the edge of the arc.

"Shoot from here? Impossible!" Mbiwa thought to himself.

Zhang arrogantly raised his right foot.

Mbiwa instinctively stretched out his foot to block—but he was at least two meters away from the arrogant man, so he couldn't block him at all.

"Bang—"

The sound of that shot was clearly heard by the spectators on the top floor of the stadium.

The ball flew over Mbiwa's head, curving slightly inwards, heading straight for the top left corner of the goal.

Nice goalkeeper Ulrich Lamé is a seasoned goalkeeper who has played in Ligue 1 for over a decade and has saved countless spectacular goals. But this particular shot, from its initial contact to its entry into the net, was so short that he didn't have time to make a complete save.

He lunged to the side, his fingertips touching the ball, but the force was too great.

The ball hit the underside of the crossbar and bounced into the goal.

1: 0.

"GOOOOOOOOOAL—" Butt's voice cracked in the broadcast box. "Arrogant! Arrogant again! A world-class goal! From over thirty meters, a first-time shot! The ball was too fast! Lamé made a save, but the ball was too fast, there was no way to stop it!"

After landing, Zhang Kuang turned and rushed towards the corner flag area.

He pushed off with both legs, then jumped up, turned around, and swung his hands downwards—

"Siu————!"

This time, he shouted even louder than in the previous round.

"Shh!"

The 35,000 fans at the Allianz Riviera Stadium immediately erupted in loud boos.

Some of the Auxerre fans joined him in chanting "Siu," while the Auxerre substitutes ran out and cheered loudly. Head coach Fernandez excitedly pumped his fist twice and then hugged his assistant coach.

The Auxerre players on the field quickly ran to the corner flag area to hug Zhang Kuang. Zhang Kuang was almost vomited by their stench of sweat. Fortunately, he was a cultivator and immediately held his breath, so he couldn't hold it in.

"That shot..." Dugarry looked at the data on the monitor in the broadcast box, "Ball speed? Not out yet? It's out—128 kilometers per hour!"

"128 kilometers," Bart repeated the number. "His volley in the last round was 119 kilometers, and today's kick was 9 kilometers faster than last round!"

Dugarry shook his head: "He's no ordinary rookie. I haven't seen many players in Ligue 1 with that kind of shooting power. Lisandro Lopez is one, Bastos is one, and Niane can barely manage to produce anything like that."

But they are established stars who have been famous for many years, while Zhang Kuang is only 18 years old. This Chinese player looks thin, but he is very strong. I've seen him hold his own against Nice's strong defenders in physical confrontations.

"Yes, he's a formidable shoter. He still has some impressive headers to show for him. Nice needs to be careful, and other teams in Ligue 1 need to be careful too. Zhang from China is not only a great shooter, but also a strong player in physical duels. I'm afraid we won't be able to stop him."

"Yes……"

On the sidelines, Nice head coach Ole Nicolé held his head in his hands, his face clearly saying, "This is fucking irrational."

He spent a full forty minutes setting up defensive tactics before the match, with two defensive midfielders to stifle Pedroti, the defensive line to tighten up to prevent the arrogant runs, and the flanks to drop back and limit Olic and Birsa's crosses... He thought he had considered all possible scenarios.

As a result, the Chinese player didn't even bother with a cross, nor did he retreat into the penalty area to receive the ball. Instead, he simply dropped back to 30 meters away and unleashed a long-range shot to solve the problem.

How can we defend against conceding a goal in the 17th minute of the first half? Are we even going to play the next 73 minutes?

Nicolás walked to the sidelines and shouted to the players on the field, "Don't panic! Mark him! Don't give him any more space to shoot!"

But even when he said those words, he knew they would be difficult to do.

What does it mean to not give him room to move?

This means Nice's defensive midfielder must closely mark Zhang Kuang throughout the entire game, preventing him from receiving the ball facing the goal.

But Zhang Kuang's positioning is very unpredictable now—sometimes he retreats back to midfield, sometimes he moves to the wing, and sometimes he suddenly moves forward.

Nice's midfielders simply couldn't keep up with him because he was too fast, too strong, and too fast.

Even when they're right next to each other, Zhang Kuang's body can withstand them, and then he uses his strength to create space to kick.

This is what it means to have a physical ability exceeding 90 points and a long-range shot exceeding 90 points—you don't need to be in the penalty area to score; give you just one body length of space, and you can swing the ball into the net.

The match is in its 31rd minute.

Zhang Kuang dropped back to the edge of the penalty area to receive the ball again. This time, Nice's two defensive midfielders reacted extremely quickly, with Digar and Fofana closing in at the same time, giving him no space to turn.

Zhang Kuang didn't resort to force.

He flicked the ball sideways with his left foot to Birsa, who had made a run down the wing, and then broke free of his defender and charged into the penalty area.

After receiving the ball, Birsa did not stop it but instead sent a cross directly to the far post of the penalty area.

Zhang Kuang jumped from the edge of the six-yard box.

Mbiwa also jumped, but his jump was a full head shorter than Zhang Kuang's.

"Another header! But this time the goalkeeper made the save—corner kick!"

Lamé made a diving save, tipping the ball over the crossbar to defuse the crisis.

After landing with a wild swagger, he showed no regret. He turned and walked towards the corner flag, waiting for Birsa to take the corner kick.

Birsa picked up the ball and ran over, glancing at Zhang Kuang: "I'll find your spot."

"Um."

Bielsa nodded, took a few steps back, took a deep breath, ran up, and curled a shot with the inside of his right foot, sending the ball flying towards the penalty spot.

Zhang Kuang defiantly evaded the double-team of Mbiwa and Ooye, and headed the ball on, but unfortunately it went high, grazing the crossbar. Nice fans and players were terrified; Zhang Kuang was too much of a threat.

"Fofana, DiGal, what are you two doing? Stick close to him, stick close to him, remember our tactics!" Nice's head coach shouted.

Fofana and Digar had strange expressions, worse than crying, but they had no choice but to stick close to Zhang Kuang.

However, Auxerre didn't have many good opportunities after that, and the first half ended quickly with the score at 1-0.