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

Night had fallen, and the southern suburbs of Cologne were quiet.

Sun Yang, dragging his leaden legs, pushed open the villa door.

After a full day of intense training at the club, he was so exhausted that he barely had the energy to change his slippers.

Deep within my thighs, I feel soreness and swelling; the side effects of lactic acid buildup are making a full-blown comeback.

As soon as I stepped into the living room, I saw my uncle Henry standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window on the first floor, carrying a thick instruction manual and directing several German technicians to tinker with the equipment.

The lounge area where the billiard table used to be has been completely renovated.

Right in the center of your line of sight, there is now a huge, transparent, constant-temperature water pool, four meters long and two and a half meters wide.

The bottom of the pool is embedded with an exaggerated treadmill belt, and the sides are lined with various water inlets and complex metal dials.

"My God, you're finally back!" Henry waved excitedly, strode over, and patted the metal casing of the instrument panel. "Yang, come and see this behemoth! I even tore down half the side wall today to get this thing inside!"

Sun Yang forced himself to walk over and looked at the moving conveyor belt at the bottom of the pool through the transparent acrylic glass, his face full of astonishment.

"Is this the underwater recovery training capsule my mom mentioned on the phone? The same model that Cristiano Ronaldo has at home?"

"Absolutely true, buddy!" Henry raised an eyebrow smugly. "This cutting-edge technology from Portugal's top sports medicine lab is produced in a handful of cases across Europe each year. This one was originally ordered by Juventus for their star players. I bypassed the middleman and went directly to the manufacturer. The original price was 500,000 euros, but I managed to cut the difference by 200,000 euros and have it airlifted to Cologne!"

"Seven hundred thousand euros?" Sun Yang gasped. "Uncle, your audacity in throwing money around has really improved."

"Money is meant to create value!" Henry said seriously, his smile fading.

"Your agent mother is right. Your biggest asset right now is this body. Your left leg was seriously injured by that bastard from Arsenal. Although your recovery speed is amazing, and even the Dortmund team doctor couldn't find any problems, the impact of running and changing direction with heavy loads on hard grass is still significant on your knee meniscus and ankle."

Henry pointed to the water generator inside the glass.

"The core advantage of this machine lies here. The resistance of water flow is twelve times that of land! Taking a single step inside requires three times the usual physical exertion. This will directly boost your aerobic metabolism and cardiovascular system. The most amazing thing is that, thanks to the buoyancy of the water, the impact on your ankles and knees upon landing is less than one-tenth of that on flat ground!"

"You can run ten kilometers straight in there, and your knee cartilage will still be incredibly smooth the next day. This is a life-saving suit that can keep you kicking until you're thirty-eight!"

Sun Yang finally understood, his eyes practically glowing with envy. The physical attribute points given by the system were indeed tempting, but in reality, to integrate those values ​​into muscles, one had to rely entirely on hard work and training.

While the club's extreme training was effective, it was too taxing on his joints. This machine was practically tailor-made for his insane extra training.

I'll try it now.

Sun Yang quickly took off his training clothes, changed into tight-fitting swim trunks, and went down to the bottom of the pool along the metal handrail. The constant temperature water at 28 degrees Celsius just covered his chest, and the feeling was extremely comfortable.

Henry pressed a red start button on the control panel.

A deep rumble reverberated at the bottom of the pool as four powerful booster pumps roared, sending torrents of water crashing against Sun Yang's thighs and abdomen. The widened tracks beneath his feet rolled in sync.

"Track speed eight kilometers per hour, water resistance level four! Run for ten minutes to see how it feels," Henry shouted, staring at the feedback data on the tablet.

Sun Yang took a deep breath and started walking.

The moment he took his first step, his thigh muscles issued a warning. An eight-kilometer pace is no different from walking on flat ground, but in this upstream environment, the powerful resistance of the water felt like an invisible hand tightly gripping his thighs. With each lift of his leg forward, the quadriceps on the front of his thighs had to unleash tremendous force to push aside the thick wall of water in front of him.

Five minutes later.

Sun Yang's chest began to heave violently. He couldn't feel sweating underwater, but the calories in his body seemed to be ignited like a gasoline barrel, and his heart rate soared to 140.

This training method, which doesn't involve using body weight to push against the knees but relies solely on the core muscles and thighs to resist the extreme pulling of the water flow, was exhilarating for Sun Yang.

He rhythmically paddled underwater to maintain his balance. Each time his feet rolled over the tracks, his calf muscles felt an extremely deep stretch. It was very gentle, without any of the harsh jolts from a sudden stop on the grass.

"Not exciting enough! Increase the speed to ten kilometers per hour! Set the drag to level six!" Sun Yang shouted at the top of his lungs amidst the churning water.

Henry flicked his finger. The tracks suddenly increased their speed, and the impact of the oncoming water flow multiplied.

Sun Yang gritted his teeth, his eight-pack abs taut like a steel plate. He charged through the turbulent water like a bull, his chest pressing against the undulating surface, each breath of oxygen a struggle to be drawn in by the desperate expansion of his alveoli.

The half-hour of intense torture has come to an end.

The water pump stopped working, and the tracks slowed down and stopped rotating. Sun Yang hung from the edge of the pool, panting heavily. His thighs felt a tingling numbness mixed with a sense of exhilarating relief, a stark contrast to the excruciating, tearing pain he had felt at the base during the day.

There was no burden on the joints, and the powerful massage effect brought by the water pressure effectively broke down and metabolized most of the lactic acid that had hardened in the calves.

"Uncle, this 700,000 euros was well spent." Sun Yang smoothed his wet hair and gave it a perfect score.

"This is nothing," Henry smiled mysteriously and pressed another switch. The support platform at the bottom of the pool began to slowly sink. The water level rose all the way up, directly over Sun Yang's neck and approaching his chin.

"This is a hydraulic lifting platform. I'll get you a diving mask tomorrow, so you can dive to a depth of two meters and do resistance squats and abdominal loops. We'll unlock the new exercises slowly tomorrow. Now, hurry up and take a hot shower and go to bed. If you dare to be late for tomorrow's club practice, you're dead."

Sun Yang climbed out of the pool, rinsed himself off, and then threw himself onto the big bed.

The extreme fatigue that spread throughout his body caused him to fall into a deep sleep within seconds of closing his eyes.

When I opened my eyes again, the bedroom ceiling had disappeared, replaced by that vast, dreamlike stadium. The stands on all sides were empty and quiet, and the grass was so green it was almost blinding.

The man was already waiting at the edge of the penalty area.

With his dazzling blond hair, world-renowned handsome features, and that iconic Red Devils number seven jersey, David Beckham casually placed his right foot on the ball, crossed his arms, and watched Sun Yang approach with great interest.

"Good evening, David." Sun Yang stretched his shoulders, a hint of pride in his eyes from winning the game. "Did you see that perfect free kick against Cologne that went straight into the top corner? The feel of my foot when I touched the ball was unbelievable, even to myself."

Beckham chuckled softly, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"Is this some kind of attempt to take credit from me, rookie? You definitely found the right spot to touch the ball, and the curve and drop were exactly as planned. Using that star player Reus's name to set a trap for the goalkeeper, that psychological tactic was pretty good."

Beckham suddenly changed the subject, flicking the ball up and catching it in his hand.

"But frankly, your current offensive capability is limited to dead balls at that distance."