Football: He suffered a broken leg at the start of the game, but partnered with Haaland!

Two o'clock in the afternoon.

The high-tech indoor training hall at the Brakel training base.

Having just finished a high-intensity league match the day before yesterday, and having conducted targeted shooting drills in the morning, Favre canceled the afternoon's outdoor scrimmage. The entire team of over twenty players changed into indoor flat training shoes and entered this futuristic stadium.

A huge black mesh cage stood in the very center of the venue.

It is fourteen meters long and fourteen meters wide.

The four walls are made up of seventy-two specially made wall panels with LED indicator lights.

Two dark, automatic ball-launching machines were installed on each wall, with a total of eight gun barrels aimed at the very center circle of the cage.

Sun Yang stood on the periphery of the crowd, examining the iron box.

He had heard of this thing called Footbonaut when he was in Arsenal's youth academy. It was said to cost millions of euros and only a handful of top clubs in Europe had this system.

Haaland stood next to Sun Yang with his hands on his hips, tilting his head back and rolling his eyes.

"Dude, I bet you. This crappy box is an absolutely inhuman invention. Being in it is like being machine-gunned. Even turning around is a struggle for big guys like us. If you've never been in one before, make sure to protect your face when you go in. Those machines spit out balls faster than Bürki smashing a water bottle in anger."

Terzic walked to the cage control panel with a tablet computer in his hand.

He plugged in the data cable and entered the password to activate the device.

With a low hum of motors starting up, all eight ball machines lit up red simultaneously, the sound of their tracks echoing in the empty indoor arena.

"Gentlemen, perk up! Fifteen minutes a week. This thing can replace the passing duties of sixteen first-team coaches. Who wants to warm up first?" Terčić shouted, holding up his tablet.

Reus stretched his ankle, pushed open the wire mesh gate, and walked into the red circle in the center of the field.

He's a regular customer of this equipment.

Terzic swiped a few times on the tablet and pressed the start button.

"drop!"

A sharp electronic notification sound rang out.

A blinding white light flashed on a wall panel directly in front of us, and the next second, a ball was launched from the ball machine on the wall at a speed of over 100 kilometers per hour.

The height is at knee level, with a strong downward rotation.

Reus reacted extremely quickly. He half-turned to meet the ball, and with a gentle tap of the inside of his right foot, he controlled the cannonball-like ball less than half a meter in front of him.

At the same time, another wall panel to the side and rear lit up with a green light.

Without even turning his head, Reus, relying on his muscle memory of space, pushed the ball with his right foot, and the ball accurately hit the center of the wall panel with the green light on.

The scoreboard flips over, adding one point.

Before Reus could catch his breath, the ball machine on the right fired again. This time it was a high ball at chest height.

Receive the ball, turn around, find the target with the green light, and pass the ball.

The whole process was smooth and seamless.

Inside the cage, Reus was like a precise clockwork gear, methodically handling tricky balls coming from all directions. His top-level ball control, honed through years of experience in the top five leagues, was on full display.

The notification tone will end after fifteen minutes.

Royce wiped the sweat from his brow as he stepped out of the cage.

Terzic looked at the data on the tablet and announced it aloud.

"Marco. Average reaction time plus ball release time is 1.4 seconds. Three turnovers. Good form. Who's next?"

Haaland went inside with a bitter expression.

The machine restarted.

Facing the ball hurtling towards him at high speed, Haaland's massive frame appeared extremely clumsy. His first touch was too hard; the ball bounced off his foot and traveled two meters. By the time he strode out to catch up, the green light had already gone out.

For several consecutive shots, Haaland was like a clumsy bear trapped in a cage, being toyed with by balls coming from all directions. He angrily clenched his fist, which drew laughter from his teammates watching from the sidelines.

Favre stood beside the control panel, holding a stack of reports in his hand.

This is the youth training evaluation file of Sun Yang during his time at Arsenal, which he specifically asked his assistant to retrieve this morning.

"Edin," Favre called out to Terzich in a low voice, "Arsenal's scouting report says that Sun has a strong overall view of the game, but his static short game is rough. In particular, his ability to handle the ball in tight spaces under high pressure is extremely poor. His slender physique makes him very afraid of pressing."

Terzic nodded.

"That's normal, Mr. Favre. It's difficult for a nineteen-year-old to master all the techniques. His long passes and free kicks on outdoor pitches are already amazing enough. But the Footbonaut system tests your reflexes and first touch. If your fundamentals aren't solid, you'll be exposed here."

Favre's gaze fell on Sun Yang in the crowd.

"We're playing Cologne this weekend. They'll definitely deploy a lot of players in midfield to suffocate Sun. I need to know his limits when he's under close marking and has no space to pass. Let him go up and give him a try. Set the bar to the professional league starting level."

Terzic understood and waved to Sun Yang.

"Sun, it's your turn."

The teammates automatically made way for them.

Everyone wanted to see what kind of stats this young Chinese-Canadian player, who dominated with free kicks this morning, could achieve in the basic skills test.

Sun Yang pushed open the iron gate, entered the cage, and stood in the center circle.

The place was even narrower than it appeared from the outside. The high walls on all sides created a strong sense of psychological oppression. The air was filled with the acrid smell of rubber tracks rubbing together.

Terzic pressed the start button.

"drop!"

As soon as the electronic sound ended, the right wall panel lit up.

A ball-serving machine emitted a loud, muffled thud. The ball, like a bullet, hurtled straight towards Sun Yang's abdomen.

That's incredibly fast!

Sun Yang had no idea the ball's speed would be even more terrifying than he had imagined from the sidelines. The moment his brain's commands reached his nerve endings, the ball was already crashing down on him.

He instinctively used his thigh to block it.

Because of excessive stiffness, the thigh muscles were very tense. The ball hit his leg with a thud and bounced directly onto the barbed wire two meters away.

A basic mistake in controlling the ball.

Then a second ball came from behind.

Sun Yang hurriedly turned around to catch it. His footing faltered, and his right foot slipped on the rubber surface. Although he managed to reach the ball with his toes, the ball's trajectory was completely off course, and it didn't hit the lit green wall at all.

He failed to handle the ball three times in a row.

A soft murmur came from outside the cage.

Haaland clung to the barbed wire and shouted loudly.

"Dude! Don't be nervous! This machine is insane! Don't try to block it with all your might, just relax!"

Reus frowned. That first touch was indeed a bit poor. It didn't live up to his legendary long-passing ability at all.

Terzic, standing in front of the control panel, shook his head and made notes on his tablet.

"Mr. Favre, it seems Arsenal's report was correct. His first touch was amateurish. He had no idea how to use his joints to absorb the ball's impact. If Cologne had two defensive midfielders double-team him, he wouldn't even be able to hold onto the ball if his passing lanes were blocked."