Volume 1: Our Own League 149: The Striker Even the Premier Center-Back Couldn't Stop

Clap, clap, clap!
Many people on the sidelines applauded, directing their cheers toward the United Team's number 39 forward.
This number 39 forward was truly exceptional, possessing undeniable quality.
It was clear from that header just how outstanding his aerial ability was; both his power generation and trajectory control were extremely precise and formidable.
Yangtong Mingxiong smiled and nodded. Things were turning out precisely as he had anticipated.
This number 39 forward was entirely worthy of being a player he held in high regard.
In his view, the number 39 forward was the quintessential goal-poaching central forward for the penalty box. His physical conditioning and body-checking ability were top-notch, giving him a massive advantage in hand-to-hand combat inside the goal area. Moreover, his pace was far from slow, his vertical leap was magnificent, his spring-loaded acceleration off the ground was lightning fast, and his height was imposing—making him quite literally the ultimate aerial dominator.
More importantly, his movement off the ball was remarkably clever. He understood the art of deception, weaving back and forth to completely disrupt the Grade 1, Class B defense. At the same time, he cleverly signaled his teammate, the number 11 forward, to occupy Zhuo Jun, granting himself maximum freedom while neutralizing their opponent's biggest threat.
Only by doing this was he able to effortlessly rise at the far post and head the ball home.
Furthermore, his judgment of the flight path of high balls was extraordinarily precise, which ultimately resulted in such a flawless header.
As expected, this number 39 forward was the dominant aerial target striker valued so highly by Yangtong Mingxiong himself.
Yangtong Mingxiong joined in the applause as well.
Out on the pitch, the players of Grade 1, Class B felt immense pressure. The number 39 forward was indeed terrifyingly proficient. In the air, he could simply steamroll any defense, acting like an absolute glitch in the system. They were completely helpless to stop him, which left them momentarily dazed and fearful.
Zhuo Jun stared intently at the number 39, acknowledging that this level of ability was genuinely intimidating.
This was a type of forward Zhuo Jun had never encountered throughout the league season, and frankly, the kind of forward he feared facing the most. The disparity in height and build between them was simply too vast. More crucially, Zhuo Jun's normally superior leaping ability offered no distinct advantage against the number 39 forward, because the opponent's jumping reach was equally stellar.
Consequently, facing this number 39 forward, Zhuo Jun felt an overwhelming sense of pressure.
For the first time, Zhuo Jun's self-confidence wavered.
This was precisely why he had wished to have Xu Donglai standing behind him.
Gazing tightly at the number 39 forward, Zhuo Jun felt deep down that this person before him would become his fated arch-rival.
Upon landing, the United Team's number 39 forward turned his head to look at Zhuo Jun, his eyes brimming with provocation.
Knowing full well that this fellow was attempting to rile him up, Zhuo Jun refused to take the bait. He didn't even cast a glance at the number 39, acting as though the forward simply didn't exist in his field of vision.
Complete ignorance!
Naked, unadulterated disregard!
The pupil of the United Team's number 39 forward constricted, a sudden chill running through his heart. This kid was going to be tough to handle.
He was naturally annoyed, but the number 39 forward did not lose his temper, nor did he forfeit his reason. He knew full well that Zhuo Jun's reaction was designed to provoke him, and he had no intention of falling into that trap.
At the same time, a cold realization dawned on him: this Zhuo Jun was a formidable opponent.
Zhuo Jun appeared remarkably calm and rational. Faced with provocation and sarcasm, instead of flying into a blind, reckless rage like a brute, he had executed an immediate psychological counter-attack.
Impressive!
The United Team's number 39 forward stopped underestimating Zhuo Jun.
Naturally, Zhuo Jun placed an equally high level of importance on the number 39 forward.
Upon observing the number 39 forward, Xu He gave a slight start. The sheer impact he brought to the pitch was formidable. This was a completely different style from Yang Xin; while Yang Xin relied purely on his height to contest headers, this player was entirely different—far more lethal than Yang Xin.
This player's off-ball movement was exceptionally clever, and he showed a much greater dominance and aggressiveness inside the penalty area. There was an overriding aura of dominance about him that Yang Xin simply lacked.
This number 39 forward was more direct and more forceful.
Now, this was a genuine striking powerhouse.
Xu He recognized that the number 39 was exceptionally strong and would undoubtedly pose a severe threat to their goal. In this situation, the only way Xu He could alleviate the pressure on his team's defensive line was by stepping up his own proactive efforts.
Yes, at a moment like this, he needed to use offensive pressure to pin the opposition back and reduce the defensive burden on his own teammates.
Xu He immediately raised his hand to signal his teammates to pass the football to him.
The United Team's players immediately tightened up, their defenders moving in close and sticking tightly to Xu He like a shadow.
They had no desire to watch Xu He assault their goal ever again.
Seeing so many defenders converge on him, Xu He felt not a shred of fear. With so many players occupied marking him, it meant his teammates were left wide open—and his team possessed far more weapons than just Xu He alone.
The ball traveled swiftly into the feet of Xu Liuxian in the central midfield. Xu Liuxian's individual talent wasn't overwhelming, and his personal technical skills weren't particularly dazzling. However, his overall tactical vision and organizational skills were exceptional, and his ability to distribute play in the middle of the pitch was remarkably strong.
Back in the trident formation of the Class 14 football team, Xu Liuxian had always been the maestro controlling the tempo and the overall flow of the game.
Today, he played that exact same role here!
Although he hadn't featured prominently in the early going and seemed invisible at critical moments, anyone who truly understood football would never overlook Xu Liuxian. He managed the tempo of the match to perfection.
Up to this point, although he had yet to display his ability to deliver killer through-balls, Xu He trusted him implicitly. Having witnessed Xu Liuxian's capacity for creating decisive passes in past matches, Xu He believed that Xu Liuxian was merely biding his time, waiting for the absolute optimal moment.
Earlier, opportunities to play killer passes had presented themselves, yet Xu Liuxian had opted against making them.
Perhaps this guy was deliberately creating the illusion for his opponents that he was incapable of threading killer passes. Once they became complacent and numb to his presence, he would suddenly unleash his extraordinary passing ability at the most critical juncture to deliver a fatal blow to the opposition.
If that was indeed the case, Xu Liuxian was truly terrifying.
This fellow possessed a deeply calculating mind!
Xu He chuckled softly to himself and thought, "I love it!"
Xu He continuously shifted and roamed across the front line, stretching and pulling the opponent's defensive structure apart while eagerly awaiting Xu Liuxian's killer pass.
When Xu Liuxian received possession, the United Team's players didn't pay him special attention.
This was because Xu Liuxian almost always released the ball quickly whenever he got it, passing it off before defenders could rush him. Then he would move into space, receive it again, and release it immediately—slippery as an eel and utterly impossible to pin down.
Consequently, whenever Xu Liuxian was on the ball, the United Team's players generally refrained from closing him down frantically, focusing instead on cutting off his passing lanes.
At this moment, the United Team's players approached him in the exact same manner.
They remained completely oblivious to the danger because the football had actually remained at Xu Liuxian's feet for a slightly longer duration than usual. Assuming they had successfully blocked his passing options and left him with nowhere to go, a sense of smug pride swelled within them: *Let's see you slip away now, kid!*
Yet, right at that moment, Xu Liuxian suddenly zipped a sharp, flat through-ball forward.
The ball traveled at an incredible velocity, skimming tightly across the surface of the turf as it surged ahead.
Simultaneously, Xu He executed a lightning-fast turn, sprinting fiercely into the United Team's penalty area.
Panic instantly gripped the United Team's players, a wave of stark terror washing over them. Some stared in absolute shock at Xu Liuxian, as if laying eyes on a stranger for the very first time.
Xu Liuxian's delivery was exquisite and pinpoint accurate.
The football whistled rapidly through a cluster of bodies, drilling directly into the left half-space of the United Team's penalty box. Though Zhang Zhen lacked blistering pace, his timing when making runs was impeccably accurate; he had timed his run to perfection, beating the offside trap and breaking into the left channel of the box.
The ball arrived precisely as the man arrived!
This wasn't merely a testament to extraordinary telepathic understanding between two players.
It was entirely a masterclass by Xu Liuxian, who used his pass to guide Zhang Zhen, spotting the fatal gap and manufacturing this dangerous scoring opportunity.
Panicked, the United Team's defenders whipped around, sprinting frantically back into the penalty box toward Zhang Zhen. They threw themselves desperately into blocks, desperate to prevent Zhang Zhen from getting a shot away.
Retaining a healthy respect for Zhang Zhen's lethal finishing ability, they fixated entirely on him, preparing to put their bodies on the line to intercept the ball.
The goalkeeper standing between the posts felt the suffocating weight of pressure.
Although he recognized that the shooting angle for Zhang Zhen was already quite tight, he still harbored zero confidence in his ability to shut down the shot, given Zhang Zhen's terrifying conversion rate.
Catching up to the football, Zhang Zhen immediately lifted his head to scan the United Team's goal.
Clearly, only a single thought occupied Zhang Zhen's mind: finding the back of the net.
Drawn instinctively toward him, the United Team's defenders converged to block his anticipated shot.
Locking his eyes onto the target, Zhang Zhen swung his leg backward and unleashed a ferocious strike.
A shot! Zhang Zhen had shot!
Defenders from the United Team instinctively threw themselves into slide tackles, stretching their legs out to block the impending trajectory. The goalkeeper frantically shifted toward the near post, thrusting his hands out to thwart the effort.
Yet, at that exact instant, to their horror, they realized Zhang Zhen had not shot at all. It was a dummy shot—a disguised pass that squared the ball backward in a triangle toward the center, right in front of the penalty spot.
Having shaken off his marker using sheer acceleration, Xu He met the incoming ball on the run, sweeping it first-time toward the bottom far corner of the net.
Watching the sequence unfold, the goalkeeper could only gaze after the ball in despair and utter helplessness.
Without the slightest suspense, the football zipped rapidly into the net, striking the inner side of the far post before bouncing over the goal line.
Four to two!
Grade 1, Class B extended their lead once more, with Xu He claiming the goal.
However, the credit for this goal belonged far more to Xu Liuxian and Zhang Zhen—though Xu Liuxian's stellar contribution in orchestrating and generating the entire attacking sequence stood out above all.
Glances filled with fury were cast toward Xu Liuxian by the United Team's players.
These damned kids had managed to hoodwink them for nearly the entire half; this fellow hid his abilities far too deeply, a truly calculating mastermind.
On the sidelines, Yangtong Mingxiong gave a slight nod of approval, thoroughly impressed by Xu Liuxian's play.
By this point, with only a few minutes remaining before the halftime whistle, the scoreline was practically set in stone. Everyone could plainly see that the Grade 1, Class B players who started the first half had performed admirably, establishing themselves as the most cohesive unit on the pitch so far today.
Naturally, Xu He stood out as the most dazzling individual performer.
Yet, beyond Xu He, numerous other players had also put in stellar shifts, leaving Yangtong Mingxiong and his coaching staff thoroughly satisfied.
During the remaining moments of the first half, the United Team launched a series of ferocious attacks, desperately seeking a goal to narrow the deficit. They wanted to prove that their overall quality was no inferior to the starting lineup of Grade 1, Class B, pouring their remaining energy into salvaging their pride.
To their credit, the United Team's number 39 forward performed magnificently, putting Zhuo Jun through absolute torture over those final minutes and inflicting tremendous pressure on the young defender. Fortunately, Zhuo Jun gritted his teeth and held firm, refusing to allow the number 39 forward to notch a goal against him.
Even so, Zhuo Jun could not muster any joy, knowing full well that had the match continued longer, the United Team's number 39 forward would inevitably have picked apart his defense and scored. Acknowledging the numerous flaws remaining in his game, Zhuo Jun silently vowed to redouble his efforts and elevate his abilities.