Unconventional Center

Chapter 6: It’s Him Again, Sure Enough

The Sevilla players were getting frantic. Going from 2–0 to 2–2 in less than twenty minutes—no one could handle that. “Harte, keep an eye on that kid—don’t let him touch the ball again!” “Don’t worry, he won’t get another chance.” “Hey, Chu,” Rodríguez walked over, “Nice work.” “Just luck,” Chu Yangdao said. “Shall we continue?” “Sure, wait for my pass.” The two high-fived, while the other teammates patted him on the shoulder or back, creating a scene of camaraderie. Everyone felt the same way: when there’s a chance to win, no one wants to lose, and a teammate who helps the team win is a good teammate—even if it was a bit embarrassing to have all the limelight stolen by a benchwarmer. The whistle blew, and the game resumed. Just as the Sevilla players were about to push forward, the Deportivo La Coruña side had already charged up the field fiercely. Those young players on the other side seemed like a different team now. Both teams had already used up their substitutions, so there was little the coaches could do. Now it was just a matter of who could hold on longer and who would have better luck. “Deportivo La Coruña is pressing high up the field; Sevilla is having a hard time advancing. What a great tackle! Oh, how could that be a foul? It was clearly clean…” Harte once again targeted Chu Yang, but Chu Yang’s off-the-ball movement suddenly became more frequent—darting left and right, leading Harte in circles. Players on both sides began giving it their all, playing with full intensity. The pace of the game suddenly picked up, making it hard to catch one’s breath. After two quick transitions between attack and defense, the ball kept circulating in midfield, and the number of fouls began to rise. It took the referee handing out two yellow cards in just three minutes to finally bring the situation under control, but the tension on the field had suddenly escalated. A shot by Sevilla was blocked, and Deportivo La Coruña’s defenders and midfielders pushed the ball into Sevilla’s half with a series of one-touch passes, causing the fans and coaches on the sidelines to jump to their feet in tension. Chu Yang dropped back of his own accord, feigning a back-to-goal reception. But Harte wasn’t about to let him receive the ball so comfortably and quickly close in on him. “Chu!” Rodríguez’s voice rang out from behind him. Chu Yang understood immediately; he suddenly lifted his right foot—the one meant to receive the pass—and let the ball slip past his foot. Chu Yang spun around quickly. Harte, caught off guard, scrambled to catch up but had already been left half a body length behind. The ball that Chu Yang had let slip rolled to Rodríguez’s feet. Without pausing to adjust, Rodríguez deftly flicked it with the tip of his toe just before the defenders could close in. The ball traced a high parabolic arc, successfully splitting Sevilla’s defense and flying into the penalty area. A figure darted out like an arrow, catching up to the falling ball; the numbers and letters on the back of his jersey stung the eyes of every Sevilla fan. 11, cy. It was an unusual spelling, yet it made everyone hold their breath involuntarily. Another one-on-one, no offside—Chu Yang sprinted toward the goal at full speed. His ball control wasn’t particularly refined, and his movements weren’t very fluid, allowing Harte to close in from behind. But unless he made a sliding tackle from behind, it would be a pipe dream for Harte to stop Chu Yang. The Sevilla goalkeeper spread his arms wide and chose to come off his line. Harte gritted his teeth and reached out to grab Chu Yang’s shoulder. His reasoning was simple: even if he committed a foul at this moment, as long as Chu Yang didn’t go down, the referee would likely choose not to blow the whistle based on the principle of letting play continue. And if Chu Yang was disrupted, he might lose the one-on-one against the goalkeeper. His reasoning was sound, but the problem was that he had misjudged Chu Yang’s strength. Chu Yang simply accelerated and swung his shoulder forward with all his might, sending Harte stumbling backward and nearly sending him crashing to the ground. At that moment, Chu Yang was like a beast that had just broken free from its cage, sweeping all before him. He slowed his stride, just as he was about to slot the ball into the far corner, when the opposing goalkeeper lunged forward. Chu Yang’s feet were tripped, sending him flying over the goalkeeper’s head before crashing heavily to the ground. The goalkeeper gathered the ball in his arms. Instead of rolling around on the ground a few times to show off his acrobatic skills, Chu Yang stood up, rubbed his foot, and spread his hands toward the referee. “Poor Harte—he’s trailing behind Chu like a jilted woman. Chu takes a shot… Oh, what am I seeing? That’s a foul! That’s murder!” “Foul! Red card! “Penalty! “Dive! That yellow-skinned monkey is diving!” A shrill whistle blew, and the referee held a yellow card high in the air while pointing to the penalty spot. A yellow card and a penalty kick. This was followed by cheers from the home fans and boos from the away fans. The Sevilla players surrounded the referee, and the goalkeeper made pleading gestures, hoping he would reverse the call, but it was clearly to no avail. Rodríguez was the first to rush over and throw his arms around Chu Yang. “Hey, man, even though I’ve said it many times today, I’ve got to say it again—you did a great job.” The other Deportivo La Coruña players rushed over as well, celebrating right in Sevilla’s penalty area until the referee shooed them away, at which point they reluctantly left. Rodríguez stepped up to the penalty spot, while the Sevilla fans booed and jeered incessantly, trying to rattle him. The opposing goalkeeper clapped his hands, let out a strange growl, and crouched down, staring intently at the ball. The referee blew his whistle, and Rodríguez took a run-up before unleashing a powerful strike. Chu Yang furrowed his brow; he could tell that Rodríguez was nervous. The ball flew toward the top left corner of the goal like a cannonball, and the goalkeeper leaped up, diving toward it like an agile leopard. His dive was perfectly timed and executed beautifully, but unfortunately, he didn’t make contact with the ball. The hearts of the Sevilla fans sank, but the cheers of the Deportivo La Coruña fans were abruptly silenced by a loud “thud.” That unlucky kid, Rodríguez, had hit the Crossbar again. The ball bounced back out, and Harte instinctively reached forward to pull it in, but his hand grasped only air. A figure had already leaped high to meet the falling ball, and before it even hit the ground, he cleanly and decisively volleyed it into the net with a difficult shot off the instep. The motion was fluid and a joy to watch. Everyone instinctively looked at his back, where a striking “11” was visible. Sure enough, it was him again. That thought flashed through their minds. “Goal! It’s the Chinese guy again! It’s Chu again! Rodríguez forgot his scoring boots, but the Chinese striker told him it didn’t matter—because Chu had already become best friends with the Crossbar. Single-handedly, he took down Sevilla and saved Super La Coruña.” The entire stadium rose to its feet in applause; jarring epithets like “yellow-skinned monkey” were no longer to be heard. Perhaps, in their eyes, it only took three goals for a monkey to evolve into a human. The Super Star System’s notification sound rang out abruptly, filling Chu Yang with hope for the future. “Congratulations, Host, on earning the achievement ‘A Journey of a Thousand Li Begins with a Hat-Trick.’ Reward: 1 free attribute point.” Chu Yang ran to the sideline, performed a sliding kneel from nearly ten meters away, then flopped backward onto the grass, spreading his arms wide as if to embrace the sky. This feeling… it’s fucking awesome.