The referee's whistle blew, and the match was underway.
Su Hang looked composed on the outside, but inside he was panicking. Without Moment Cards, every match felt like torture.
But he quickly noticed something different. Level 8 Vision felt like stepping into a whole new world.
Even offside runs had become easier. He no longer needed to loiter on the offside line looking like a fool. Now, he could slip behind the line five to ten seconds before the pass—just in time to catch the defenders off guard.
This drastically lowered the risk of being caught slacking off. It felt incredible!
At the same time, Su Hang realized the gap in ability between Krakow and Real Madrid was massive. His off-the-ball movements were actually pulling Krakow defenders away, creating space for Owen.
In the 7th minute, Su Hang's diagonal run dragged defenders out of position, letting Figo cross to Owen. Owen's shot was on target, but the keeper blocked it.
By the 12th minute, Su Hang drew attention again, this time from an offside position, and Zidane took advantage with a long-range strike that earned a corner. Beckham delivered it, and Woodgate's header smacked the crossbar—nearly his first Real Madrid goal.
In the 18th minute, Su Hang dropped back to receive the ball, returned it to Zidane, and burst forward. Zidane switched it to Solari on the left. Su Hang's run, onside this time, drew defenders again and opened up the edge of the box. Solari drove into the space and unleashed a shot—just a meter wide, but highly dangerous.
Real Madrid's attack was relentless. A goal felt inevitable.
Everyone looked relaxed—except Camacho, whose expression was pure frustration. He hadn't expected this cobbled-together lineup to dominate Krakow. The Polish side couldn't pressure Real Madrid at all. Damn it!
In the 20th minute, Samuel won an aerial duel and knocked the ball to Beckham, who sent a long pass up to Su Hang. Su Hang leaned on the center-back, jumped, and nodded it down to Owen. Owen fired a long shot—but it soared into the stands.
Even so, Owen gave Su Hang a thumbs-up.
Su Hang frowned. He realized he barely needed to dodge the ball—Krakow's defenders lacked both awareness and physical strength. That header had come way too easily.
Meanwhile, commentary rolled in:
"Real Madrid has been dominating without scoring—this could be risky."
"All it takes is one slick counterattack from Krakow, and they could go behind."
"Other than that knockdown header, Su Hang hasn't done anything threatening. Not the performance of a proper striker."
"They call him the Crown Prince of Real Madrid, supposedly a killer on par with Ronaldo or Raúl. But right now, he looks way behind Owen."
"At this rate, Ronaldo's partner will be either Owen or Morientes. Su Hang doesn't stand a chance."
These expert critiques echoed throughout the broadcast—it was hard to criticize a front line full of superstars, but Su Hang was the easy target.
Even Solari, the only non-superstar, was playing great.
Sorry, Su.
In the 23rd minute, Su Hang dropped into the attacking midfield zone and exchanged a glance with Zidane, who had the ball. Zidane looked surprised—Su Hang was reading his mind.
Bang! Zidane passed to Su Hang.
Bang! Su Hang held off the defensive midfielder, played a diagonal touch, and initiated a one-two with Zidane while surging into the box.
Bang! Zidane returned it—right where Su Hang expected it. That glance had said it all: "One-two, now."
Commentary exploded:
"What a chance! Su Hang and Zidane link up beautifully with a slick one-two!"
"Su Hang has it in the box—he's got a shot!"
"But Krakow's center-back steps in, arms behind his back, blocking the angle."
"The shot is there, but the better play might be a pass. Owen's in a great spot—but Su Hang might not see him, as another defender is blocking his view…"
Bang!
Su Hang slid a pass across.
The ball skimmed inches past the defender—he never expected it. Even Owen was caught off guard and nearly overran it.
Luckily, he reacted fast, kept one foot back, pulled the ball in, and fired a low shot.
Swish!
Straight into the net.
"GOAL! Real Madrid scores! One-nil!"
"Exactly as expected—Real Madrid takes the lead."
"Owen, the new speedster, nets his first official goal of the season!"
"He becomes Real Madrid's fourth Ballon d'Or winner after Figo, Zidane, and Ronaldo!"
"The English superstar lives up to the hype!"
"And 50% of the credit goes to Su Hang for the assist!"
"He linked midfield to attack, connected perfectly with Zidane, and delivered the decisive pass to Owen!"
Applause thundered from the stands.
Camacho stood frozen on the sideline.
Wait—Su Hang got the assist?
That lucky bastard! Zidane drew all the pressure, leaving Su Hang wide open!
On the pitch, everyone surrounded Owen in celebration.
Owen made sure to thank Su Hang:
"Su! Thanks for the pass—brilliant!"
Su Hang smiled. "Your shot was just as good."
Zidane leaned in and said,
"Hey, kid—has your vision improved?"
Su Hang blinked.
Of course Zidane noticed.
"There's zero chemistry between you and Owen. And you weren't following tactical positioning. So logically, you shouldn't have seen him," Zidane said, tapping Su Hang's head.
Su Hang just smiled.
That pass had nothing to do with chemistry. It was pure vision.
Even the one-two with Zidane—that was vision too.
Before, he'd never have pulled that off.
In the 25th minute, Samuel intercepted again. Beckham passed to Zidane, who slipped past a defender and found Solari at the top of the box.
Solari fired once more—just wide again.
He hadn't seen Su Hang.
And now Su Hang was certain—Solari's vision wasn't Level 8.
A bit lacking, huh.
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