This was, in the truest sense, Su Hang's first real offensive skill.
Before, aside from holding up the ball, playing it back, and contesting headers, Su Hang had little involvement in the attacking end. Now, he could finally join the attack in a meaningful way.
The new skill boosted his Ball Control by 1 point and his Burst by 2 points.
His current attributes:
Offensive Awareness: 76
Ball Control: 71
Shooting: 74
Short Pass: 74
Heading: 78
Burst: 77
Strength: 83
Jumping: 75
Vision: 8
...
What? The Marseille Turn?
Yes, Su Hang had learned it — but only at a basic level.
Whenever he tried to force it in a game, he would stumble awkwardly. He was still far from Zidane's effortless elegance.
Still, with his Ball Control now improved, his Marseille Turn should be noticeably smoother.
...
November 20 — Round 12 of La Liga. El Clásico roared to life.
Real Madrid had just thrashed Albacete 6–1, climbing back to second place on goal difference.
But at the top of the table sat Barcelona.
Without Su Hang, and with the coaching staff deciding it was safer to play conservatively, Real Madrid stuck to the formation they had relied on most over the past two years: 4-2-3-1.
Formation: Ronaldo up front; Zidane, Raúl, and Figo behind him; Beckham and Guti in midfield; Roberto Carlos, Samuel, Pavón, and Salgado in defense; Casillas in goal.
Woodgate was suspended due to accumulated yellow cards. Owen, Morientes, Solari, and other big names waited on the bench.
Barcelona, meanwhile, rolled out their trademark 4-3-3: Ronaldinho, Larsson, and Eto'o up front; Deco, Márquez, and Xavi in midfield; Van Bronckhorst, Puyol, Oleguer, and Belletti at the back; Valdés in goal.
On the bench were rising talents like Iniesta and Messi.
Fans had been eager to see Su Hang take on "traitor" Eto'o, Barca's golden boy Iniesta, and La Masia's rising star Messi.
No such luck — Barcelona escaped that fate.
Especially Messi, who had just made his first senior appearance for Barcelona; he was nowhere near Su Hang's level now. Before last season, Messi's reputation and ability far surpassed Su Hang's — but times had changed, and they were no longer in the same tier.
Messi didn't feature in this crucial clash. Iniesta came on instead.
The scoreline delighted the Catalans.
29' — Eto'o struck against his former club, finishing Ronaldinho's pass.
43' — Deco set up Van Bronckhorst for another.
77' — Eto'o earned a penalty, which Ronaldinho converted for 3–0.
Final score: 3–0.
Real Madrid left Camp Nou humiliated.
The 6–1 win from the previous round suddenly felt meaningless.
The Catalan media erupted in celebration.
Puyol, still holding a grudge from last season, declared after the match:
"This is everything! This is the story of the season! Barcelona will step over Real Madrid's corpse to win La Liga!"
Eto'o laughed:
"Next leg, I'll get my hat trick at the Bernabéu!"
World Sports: "Real Madrid are just paper tigers! Who can they beat besides a newly promoted side?"
Mundo Deportivo: "After a chaotic spell, Barcelona have found their stride again. For the foreseeable future, Real Madrid will live in their shadow."
The Catalans were jubilant.
In Madrid, fans were furious, already counting down to the next El Clásico, determined to prove who really ruled Spain.
...
Outside Real Madrid's training ground, a crowd of fans gathered.
As usual, Su Hang stopped to sign autographs. But today, that wasn't why they came.
"Su, will you be back for the next match?"
A boy of about six or seven, wearing a Su Hang jersey, had squeezed to the front.
"I'm sorry! We're about to fly back to France — he didn't mean to cut in line… sorry!" A woman pulled him back and apologized to those nearby. "We have a flight soon, and time's tight."
"Su, he's your fan. We came all this way to see you, but you weren't in El Clásico."
"He cried his eyes out after Real Madrid lost."
"He plays football himself — just won our local tournament. He hopes you'll lead Real Madrid to victory!"
Before she could finish, the boy was already in tears again.
"Hey, hey, hey — be a man!" Su Hang lifted him up. "Men don't cry so easily, understand?"
"Be strong! Losing hurts, but remember this feeling — it's what drives us to improve, so we never have to feel it again."
The boy calmed down, then repeated:
"Su, can you come back for the next game?"
"Real Madrid needs to win. Real Madrid needs you!"
He wriggled free, ran a few steps away, then spun around. Without even jumping, he spread his arms proudly:
"Siu!"
Applause spread through the crowd.
"Su Hang! Su Hang! Su Hang!"
The chant swelled. The boy punched the air, shouting along.
The scene felt like a concert — the fans' expectations were clear.
Su Hang froze.
Never had he felt such a pull to fight for these people.
His injury? He'd been fit for a long time. He could have played in El Clásico — but he'd held back, worried about revealing too much.
Now, for the first time, he wanted to play.
He even regretted sitting out the last match. That was El Clásico!
"Technically, my injury isn't fully healed," Su Hang began, cutting through the cheers.
Tears welled in the boy's eyes again.
"But!" Su Hang pointed at him. "For you — for all Real Madrid fans — next match…"
He turned toward the training pitch. Near the gate, he suddenly accelerated, leaping high, spinning midair—
"Siuuuuu!"
The crowd went wild. The stadium erupted.
It felt as if victory was already theirs.
At the gate, Su Hang called back:
"Tell me your name. If I'm lucky enough to score, I'll dedicate it to you!"
The boy jumped up excitedly.
"Kylian… Kylian Mbappé!"
Su Hang grinned. "Alright, Ninja Turtle."
The boy froze as if struck by lightning.
How did Su know his nickname?
He hated that nickname.
Hated it!