Volume 1: Our Own League 148: The United Team's Ace Player Takes the Field

Three to one, the Combined Team pulled one goal back.

That was not enough. The Combined Team kept pushing forward with a frantic offensive.

Chen Wei on the flank received successive passes from Qidan in the middle, frequently delivering crosses into the box. Although many of his crosses were intercepted by the heavily marked Chen An, every ball that managed to break through carried immense threat.

At this juncture, the Combined Team made a substitution.

The number 9 striker of the Combined Team was replaced by the number 39 striker.

The traits of this number 39 striker were exceedingly obvious: he was remarkably tall, appearing even taller than Yang Xin. Unlike Yang Xin, who resembled a tall and slender bamboo pole, this fellow was not only towering but also powerfully built.

The mere moment he stepped onto the pitch, he exuded an intense physical presence.

Xu He and the others could not help but draw a sharp breath.

Spectators on the sidelines instinctively turned their gazes toward Yang Xin, their eyes conveying a clear message: Yang Xin, you have lost. This enraged Yang Xin, filling him with fiery vexation.

Yet Yang Xin ignored these onlookers, fixing his eyes entirely on the figure of the number 39 striker inside the pitch. He wanted to witness firsthand just how capable this fellow truly was.

Yang Xin refused to believe this guy was superior to him.

Zhuge and the others also focused their attention on this striker, their minds brimming with doubt.

What was the true caliber of this number 39 striker? What category of forward did he belong to? To them, this number 39 striker was utterly unfamiliar and shrouded in mystery.

During the morning match, this number 39 striker had not made a single appearance.

This left Zhuge filled with doubt and astonishment. Could the ability of this number 39 striker be so extraordinary that evaluation was unnecessary, earning him a direct entry into the team? Otherwise, why would this fellow remain unused during the morning session?

Now that he was playing, it certainly did not mean the Combined Team had surrendered. Instead, it proved that this guy possessed exceptional skill and was sent in to sound the horn of counterattack. Why was he kept off the pitch in the morning? It could only mean his prowess was so peerless that morning matches were beneath his need.

Zhuge began to worry for Xu He and his companions.

Naturally, the players of the First-Year Team B soon felt the formidable impact and pressure.

The moment the number 39 striker entered the game, he dealt the defensive line of First-Year Team B a severe blow. Seeing the number 39 forward take the field, Chen Wei executed a feint on the flank and directly whipped out an arcing cross towards the far post of the penalty area.

At the far post, the number 39 striker immediately used his robust physique to shoulder-check the defending player behind him, sending the defender instantly recoiling backward. The defender had exerted every ounce of his strength to contest the number 39 striker, yet he was easily shoved aside.

A sense of shock gripped the defender, who acutely felt the overwhelming pressure.

The number 39 striker immediately leaped, his body soaring swiftly into the high air.

On the sidelines, Zhuge widened his eyes in mild dismay. The leaping ability of this number 39 striker was explosive, and his takeoff speed was astonishingly rapid. Combined with his freakish height, he was quite literally a born aerial dominator. Zhuo Jun was about to encounter serious trouble.

Although Zhuge held Zhuo Jun in high regard, he remained entirely unoptimistic when facing such an aerial monarch; Zhuo Jun might not be able to handle him.

Seeing this, Zhuge could not help but offer a bitter smile. Indeed, their morning performance had been too subpar; the Combined Team did not even deign to dispatch their strongest personnel to contend with them. They were simply not in the same league.

Witnessing the number 39 striker muscle his way past the defense and leap high into the air, Zhuo Jun did not panic. He had anticipated this long beforehand. Ever since the number 39 striker stepped onto the pitch, he had treated him with utmost seriousness, clearly unwilling to grant him such a prime opportunity. He had refrained from tightly marking the number 39 striker earlier precisely to reserve a countermeasure.

Seeing the number 39 striker leap so high, Zhuo Jun could not help clicking his tongue in amazement. The jumping capability of this number 39 striker truly exceeded his expectations; it was overwhelmingly strong, living up to his reputation as the trump card of the Combined Team.

Yet Zhuo Jun felt not an ounce of fear. The moment his teammate was shoved away, he closed in tightly. As the number 39 striker launched himself upward, Zhuo Jun sprang into the air as well. His body ascended rapidly, yet a noticeable distance still remained between him and the number 39 striker—Zhuo Jun could not directly interfere with the striker's header.

Zhuo Jun had never intended to contest the header equally; retreating and jumping backward was part of his premeditated plan.

Upon takeoff, Zhuo Jun deliberately leaned his body against the airborne number 39 striker, using his own body weight to press down on him and disrupt his physical equilibrium.

Sure enough, just as the number 39 striker was about to connect with the ball, his body shuddered as a massive force struck his abdomen, causing him to sway. Although his head managed to strike the ball, sending it toward the goal of First-Year Team B, the shot lacked both power and speed.

The number 39 striker of the Combined Team plummeted rapidly, landing back on the turf.

Upon landing, his body arched backward violently, nearly causing him to topple over inside the penalty area.

Zhuo Jun was not so fortunate. Having lost his balance mid-air, he crashed heavily onto the grass. The fall was quite severe, but having anticipated it, Zhuo Jun had executed proper protective measures, suffering no serious repercussions.

The football hurtled toward the goal of First-Year Team B, only to be safely smothered by Wang He standing right in front of the net.

Noticing the ball lacked pace, this fellow decided to show off. He executed an exaggerated, airborne sideways dive. Fortunately, he managed to firmly secure the ball; otherwise, he would surely have been blacklisted by Yangtong Mingxiong and the others.

Nevertheless, witnessing Wang He's flamboyant antics, Luo Dongqing and the others frowned slightly, a trace of displeasure flickering in their hearts.

In their view, the goalkeeper position demanded steadiness of character, rather than the showboating and grandstanding displayed by Wang He.

A goalkeeper should not be so frivolous, as such frivolity would inevitably lead to grave mistakes in the future.

Upon landing, the number 39 striker turned his head to look at Zhuo Jun, his eyes brimming with astonishment. He had never imagined that this seemingly slender and shorter fellow could successfully thwart him. Staring intently at Zhuo Jun, he began to take him seriously.

Initially, the number 39 striker had assumed he could effortlessly school the kids of First-Year Team B, so he had not invested much focus or earnestness, jumping for the header rather casually. He thought that alone would suffice to put the ball into the net of First-Year Team B.

Alas, his calculations had failed, and Zhuo Jun had taught him a lesson.

The number 39 striker of the Combined Team glanced at Xu He and turned entirely serious.

He realized he had truly underestimated First-Year Team B and Zhuo Jun earlier. From this moment onward, he needed to concentrate and contest the match with all his might. Otherwise, he might not secure a single goal in this game.

Striding directly up to Zhuo Jun, the number 39 striker of the Combined Team declared, "You have successfully provoked me. Prepare to face my wrath!"

Zhuo Jun did not think the guy before him was merely putting on airs; he turned instantly solemn.

The fellow standing before him possessed the capability to utter such words. This was undoubtedly one of the strongest opponents he had faced recently. He had to approach this match with absolute seriousness; otherwise, their goal might well be pierced like a sieve.

At that moment, how Zhuo Jun wished his good friend Xu Donglai was standing behind him in the goal.

If Xu Donglai were guarding his goal, he would have no worries whatsoever, let alone be swayed by the words of the number 39 striker. Pity that Xu Donglai was not the one behind him now, forcing him to expend every ounce of effort in defense, granting this fellow no chance to threaten the goal.

Meanwhile, Wang He clutched the football and sprinted forward rapidly, charging toward the edge of the penalty arc.

Qidan immediately roared, "Mark him! Mark Xu He!"

The defensive players of the Combined Team lunged toward Xu He, trailing him closely with utmost focus and caution. Clearly, they had no desire to repeat their past mistakes, enforcing an airtight defense against Xu He.

Wang He had genuinely intended to throw the ball to Xu He, but seeing the striker completely surrounded, he abandoned the idea and instead tossed the ball directly to Li Bo. Li Bo controlled the ball, spun around, and swiftly dribbled across the halfway line. Facing a rushing defender, he smoothly executed a body feint, leaving his opponent behind.

The chubby Li Bo surprised everyone; the fellow was unexpectedly agile, and his pace was far from slow.

Li Bo's footwork was also rather impressive. After stringing together several dribbles past opponents and drawing the complete attention of the defense, he promptly pushed the ball toward the flank. Chen Ping surged forward from the wing, glanced into the penalty area, and directly swung his foot to deliver an arcing cross.

The football traced a vast arc through the air, sailing impeccably into the penalty area.

Xu He sprinted inward, leapt high into the air, and utilizing his momentum, violently smashed a header toward the ball. The football shot forward like a cannonball, hurtling rapidly toward the goal of the Combined Team.

The goalkeeper of the Combined Team failed to react in time; the ball was simply too fast.

Clang!

The football smashed fiercely against the crossbar and bounced out over the baseline.

Upon landing, Xu He felt a pang of regret. He had thought the ball was certain to score, only for it to clip the crossbar at the very end—what a wretched pity.

Zhuge and the others shared the sentiment, letting out a chorus of sighs.

The Combined Team's goalkeeper had nearly been scared out of his wits—that was perilously close.

Yangtong Mingxiong and the others lit up. Xu He's heading ability appeared quite respectable. Viewed in this light, Xu He remained a remarkably well-rounded striker—not bad at all.

On the other end, the Combined Team immediately stepped up their offensive, continually menacing the goal of First-Year Team B. At this juncture, the Combined Team performed admirably, exhibiting formidable control in midfield. They strung together successive passes, making it exceedingly difficult for First-Year Team B to intercept. At this moment, Xu He deeply missed Zhong Haokun.

Had they possessed a sweeper of Zhong Haokun's super-strong caliber in their ranks, that ball would have been intercepted long ago.

Li Bo possessed decent technique, but his sweeping ability fell significantly short, and his defensive interception lacked teeth. He was the type of defensive midfielder inclined toward technique and organization, which made the defense of First-Year Team B appear somewhat fragile—their midfield backbone lacked rigidity and could not stand firm.

Had Zhuo Jun not delivered an outstanding performance, they certainly would have conceded more than just one goal.

Right at that moment, after breaking through successively in the center, Qidan slyly delivered a through ball, and the football rolled rapidly toward the flank. "Beckham" Chen Wei on the wing assessed the situation in the box, and directly dispatched a "Chen-style arc" to the far post.

The number 39 striker at the far post leaped with explosive speed, rising a full two heads higher than the defender who had jumped simultaneously, and violently smashed a header into the ball. The football darted rapidly toward the goal of First-Year Team B. Wang He reacted swiftly in front of the goal, diving sideways, but still failed to reach the ball. The ball zipped directly into the net he guarded.

The ball's trajectory was too swift for Wang He to make a save.

Two to three, the Combined Team had pulled yet another goal back, narrowing the deficit.