July 10.
Just past 9 PM.
Dark clouds gather overhead.
Under the night sky, Kazan Arena waits for the arrival of its warriors.
The five-time champions Brazil and the Matador Army of Spain. Each side has drawn roughly 35,000 fans into the stadium to cheer for their team.
The roar of more than 70,000 voices tears through the night, slamming into the clouds.
As if trying to shatter the moon itself.
"Brazil!!!"
"Brazil!!!"
"Brazil!!!"
...
"Spain!!!"
"Spain!!!"
"Spain!!!"
Half an hour before kickoff, the chants from both sides were already clashing in the night sky.
As tens of thousands of voices collided, the most intense human emotions were forced into existence, pouring down onto the pitch like rain.
Fear.
Tension.
Excitement.
Anger.
Greed.
Fighting spirit.
Resolve.
All of it erupted violently inside Kazan Arena, gathering into a massive fog that almost seemed visible.
Within that haze, 22 figures. Small in appearance yet filled with immense energy. Slowly stepped onto the battlefield.
The Russia World Cup quarterfinals had officially begun.
Derek Rae.
"You are watching the quarterfinal match of the 21st World Cup, coming to you from Kazan Arena in Russia. It is the five-time world champions, the Samba Army of Brazil from South America, taking on the Matador Army of Spain from Europe."
"Both starting lineups are out on the pitch. Let us take a look at the lineups for both sides."
"It truly is a galaxy of stars. The combined market value of these two teams has exceeded 1.6 billion. This is a clash at the very peak of modern football. A true collision of titans!"
"For Brazil, veteran coach Tite sets up in a 4-3-3."
"Goalkeeper: Alisson!"
"Defenders: Marcelo, Miranda, Thiago Silva, Fagner!"
"Midfielders: Coutinho, Fernandinho, Paulinho!"
"Front three: Neymar, Jesus, Willian!"
"On the other side, Spain line up in a 4-2-3-1."
"Goalkeeper: De Gea!"
"Defenders: Alba, Ramos, Piqué, Carvajal!"
"Double pivot: Busquets, Thiago!"
"Attacking midfielder: Leo Lin!"
"Wide midfielders: Asensio, David Silva!"
"Striker: Heavy Metal Diego Costa!"
"Both sides are ready. The referee for this match is the world-class Serbian official, Mažić!"
Leo Lin remained completely calm, repeatedly running through the targeted attacking patterns Hierro had prepared in his mind.
The entire stadium began a unified countdown.
Standing at the center of Kazan Arena, Leo Lin felt each number crash over him like a tidal wave.
"3!!!"
"2!!!"
"1!!!"
"Whistle!!!"
"It is finally here!"
"The showdown everyone has been waiting for!"
"Samba versus Matadors!"
"The match begins!!"
"Brazil kick off. A long ball is sent toward the left, looking for Neymar."
"Carvajal charges in and knocks Neymar over. The referee calls a foul and gives Carvajal a verbal warning!"
"Neymar is down and looks to be in real pain. It seems this will be Spain's defensive approach tonight. They will not give Neymar any space on the ball."
World Soccer News.
Ronaldo speaks angrily. "A foul right from the start. How is that any way to play?"
Casillas replies, clearly exasperated. "So you cannot foul at the start?"
"What, should they hold hands and sing the World Cup theme song first before playing?"
"This is football, Ronaldo. Not a friendly game."
Brazil win a free kick in the attacking third, but the angle is tight and the distance is long.
Neymar delivers it into the box. Thiago Silva meets it with a header, but there is not enough power, and De Gea collects it comfortably.
Spain then begin working the ball through the middle, and it quickly becomes clear that Leo Lin is playing very differently tonight.
9th minute.
With Busquets providing cover, Leo Lin drops back quickly. As he receives the ball, he feints a turn backward, then sharply twists left, sending Coutinho the wrong way with a quick body feint.
Coutinho is beaten instantly. Leo Lin's movement is light and fluid, blending explosiveness and strength almost perfectly.
This was an improvement he had grasped in the previous match against the Japan team.
He had begun integrating the effects of the Ball-Heart, Guitar-Soul skill with the Wind Chaser Kaka skill, along with his own explosiveness and strength, merging them into one.
Casemiro crashes into him from the side with a heavy shoulder.
Leo Lin immediately powers through the contact. He stumbles slightly but keeps possession, then sends a long pass down the right flank.
David Silva receives it and sweeps the ball into the box.
Just as Diego Costa prepares to shoot, Thiago Silva appears in the perfect defensive position and clears it decisively.
The ball arcs through the air and drops perfectly at Neymar's feet on the right.
Neymar has barely controlled it when, before he can even turn, Busquets, tracking back in support, drives his shoulder into him again and knocks him to the ground.
The referee issues another verbal warning to Busquets.
World Soccer News commentary booth.
"Look at Neymar. He is rolling on the ground in pain again."
"His style naturally invites more fouls. That is understandable."
"But let me ask something. Lin has been playing just as fluidly in recent matches. So why does no one seem to knock him down?"
"I do not think I have ever seen him get taken out like that."
Casillas shoots Gerrard a look as if he has just said something ridiculous.
"It is not that no one runs into Lin."
"It is that Lin runs into others while dribbling."
"Do you understand?"
"In terms of strength and physicality."
"No matter how you look at it, the sentence can only go one way. Lin dribbles and charges into others."
"And knocking Lin over?"
"How could you even say that?"
...
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