On the sidelines, Southgate kept applauding.
"Great goal!"
"Keep attacking, keep pushing forward. Seize the chance to extend the lead!"
Having a Ballon d'Or-level player on your team was just too exhilarating!
First, a continuous breakthrough deep into Serbian territory created a free kick in a dangerous area.
Then, with one violent strike, Ling smashed the match open.
Well, perhaps it was not entirely flawless.
The angle was not particularly tricky. It was purely a case of sheer power working wonders.
But that did not matter, a goal was a goal.
...
On the neighboring bench, Serbia's head coach Tumbaković slightly opened his mouth.
Shock was inevitable.
To be honest, he had never led his team against a player of Ling's level, and his understanding of the Seven-Title Winner had been vague before the match.
That was why he had made those remarks in the press conference.
But now?
He still felt a bit unconvinced, thinking Ling had simply gotten lucky and blasted the ball into the net.
Immediately, he shouted at the Serbian players, urging them to regroup.
Meanwhile, on the pitch, Ling was surrounded by his teammates, with praise pouring in from all sides.
"Wasn't that just fucking insane?"
"If that hit someone's head, it would've sent them straight to hospital."
"Don't use that move in team training from now on!"
Listening to his teammates chatter away, Ling did not have the heart to say it was mostly luck.
After all, that would sound suspiciously like humble-bragging.
Besides, was luck not also part of ability?
Nearby, the Serbian players, hearing their coach's furious shouts, silently picked up the ball.
They were proud and stubborn.
They would not back down simply because they had taken one punch.
Giving up was not in their dictionary!
...
The match resumed.
"England!"
"England!"
"Jeremy!"
The chants from the traveling supporters never ceased, and the match entered a fever-pitch stage.
Were Serbia strong?
At least in this qualifying group, they ranked high, and their mental fortitude was not to be underestimated.
Physical clashes, speed, fouls — these became the defining features of the match.
What would have happened to past England teams?
Perhaps they would have lost control after being dragged into a fight.
Perhaps they would have panicked under pressure.
Perhaps they would have started forcing passes and inviting trouble.
But this England had changed, they no longer afraid of physical confrontation.
Whether they could outmuscle you or not, at least they would try.
If beaten, they would foul.
Forget nonsense like gentlemanly conduct.
Football was not a sport for gentlemen.
Thus, in the eyes of England fans, the team's momentum was not weaker than Serbia's.
In fact, it seemed even stronger.
All of this had changed because of one person.
"There are seven minutes left until the end of regular time in the first half."
"During this period, Ling has repeatedly drawn fouls with his individual skill, earning yellow cards for Serbia's defenders and midfielders."
"That has had a huge impact on Serbia's defensive aggression. They can no longer rely so freely on physical challenges and tactical fouls."
"Ah, it's Kostić breaking through on the wing again, with Rice and Walker closing in for a decisive double-team!"
With the left flank of Serbia's attack stifled, Mitrović was left isolated and unsupported.
Did he really think he was Ibrahimović just because he could bully defenders in the air?
'If it were Zlatan, he would have dropped back to receive the ball, dribbled forward himself, and actively looked for opportunities.'
Watching that powerful striker gesture helplessly at his teammates, Ling could not help thinking to himself.
After intercepting the ball, Walker strictly followed Southgate's instructions.
Avoid passing backward whenever possible.
Use the vertical space.
The ball rolled along the sideline to Ling's feet.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure closing in.
Gudelj remembered the coach's instruction.
Do not let England's number 7 turn easily.
Close mark him, apply force if necessary.
He tried to disrupt Ling's first touch, a move he often used in league matches.
Usually, it worked.
But Ling lowered his center of gravity and leaned back, creating space in an instant.
Cut the ball and turn.
Even under intense pressure, his touch remained precise.
The ball traced a beautiful arc, bypassing the falling Gudelj and rolling toward the center.
The next moment, Ling surged forward and reclaimed possession.
"A TOUCH AND TURN!"
"An escape of imagination, of balance, of breathtaking nerve!"
"Now he accelerates!"
"HE ACCELERATES AGAIN!"
"The wind is behind him, the grass is beneath him, and Serbia are suddenly chasing a white shirt that looks less like a man and more like a warning!"
Sterling and Kane, who were ahead of him, were overtaken.
Another Serbian midfielder was passed too.
One defender bit his gums until they bled, his mouth filling with the taste of iron.
But he still could not catch up.
In the rapidly shifting scene, his figure gradually faded away.
Only one man remained.
The white jersey fluttered in the cold Belgrade air, weaving into a grand spectacle.
Almost in an instant, that white figure pierced into Serbia's penalty area like a dagger.
'I can't tell which way he's gonna shot!'
The goalkeeper shouted inwardly, diving blindly to the left.
In that moment, Ling gently brushed the ball with the inside of his right foot, soft as silk.
The ball moved the opposite way.
Finally, it nestled into the center of the net!
0–2.
After scoring, Ling sprinted toward the away end.
Meeting the eyes of the England fans, he leaped, punched, and struck the air.
Beneath his chest lay a heart ablaze with fury.
England curse?
He would shatter it with his own hands!
And not just that.
All the doubts that had shackled England's so-called golden generations.
He would smash them one by one!
"Hey! Hey! Hey!"
The unified roars seemed to shake the soul.
Peter Drury's voice rose into full flight.
"LING HAS GONE FROM ONE END OF BELGRADE TO THE OTHER LIKE A MAN CHASED BY DESTINY!"
"Power and pace! Fury and finesse! He has torn Serbia open with his own two feet!"
"That is not a counterattack — THAT IS A LIGHTNING STRIKE IN HUMAN FORM!"
"And England, who once carried fear into nights like these, now carry Jeremy Ling."
Jim Beglin sounded almost breathless.
"That's frightening. The first touch, the acceleration, the composure at the end... defenders hate that. There's no obvious mistake. They just can't live with him."
Even more excited than the commentators were the fans in the stadium.
The white and red away end erupted, cheers shaking the heavens.
Serbian fans fell silent.
They stared in shock, mouths slightly open.
An Asian player with that kind of speed? You must be joking!
And also—why was one of their midfielders lying on the ground?
Cramps?
The confidence Serbian fans had before the match vanished without a trace.
By the pitch, Southgate pressed a hand against his chest.
'Damn, watching Ling play was too thrilling! My heart could barely take it.'
Players on the bench celebrated excitedly.
Jealousy? None.
There never would be.
Nowadays, those selected for England — technical skills aside — first and foremost had to have a heart that craved victory.
"Ling is just too damn good!"
"To be honest, in the previous matches, the opponents were too weak, so I thought his national-team level was just average."
"You really have the nerve to say that!"
Everyone's faces were full of smiles.
Smiles of anticipation for the future.
....
The word "give up" was not in the dictionary of Serbian players.
That was true.
But faced with two goals like that, how could morale not drop? It probably could not be helped.
They kicked off somewhat numbly and passed the ball around for a while.
Beep-beep!
The referee blew his whistle, signaling the end of the first half.
Finally, he took a deep look at Ling.
Don't get the wrong idea.
It was not about biased refereeing.
He was simply marveling at Ling's ability.
Nowadays, many European teams had no fear of England.
But this England side was different.
With Ling, they were no longer just talented.
They were dangerous in a way opponents could feel in their bones!
...
During halftime, discussions about the match exploded across forums and platforms.
It was overwhelming.
Even the platform servers started to lag.
Celebrity weddings, scandals, and everything else on the trending lists were pushed far down.
📱 @ThreeLionsWatch ✔
Ling just scored a Roberto Carlos free kick and then ran through Serbia like he had somewhere urgent to be. This is not normal!
| ↳ 📱 @StretfordEndTom
| Reply: "Serbia built a wall. Ling brought a cannon." Peter Drury deserves a raise.
📱 @EnglandTalks ✔
He hit 38.21 km/h on that second goal according to the broadcast graphic. That is absolutely ridiculous.
📱 @NeutralEuroWatch
That solo goal looked like an anime opening. Defender chasing, midfielder cramping, keeper sent the wrong way. Cinema!
📱 @CNFootballRealist
He is faster than almost everyone, stronger than most defenders, and still has the touch to finish softly. The system helped him grow, yes, but this kind of talent is also terrifying.
📱 @HupuFootballCN
Is he faster than Mbappé?
| ↳ 📱 @DataBallCN
| Reply: Sky graphic showed Ling at 38.21 km/h. Mbappé's recorded top speed was 37.9 km/h. Do with that what you will.
📱 @OldFan1988
If kids in China watch this and start training properly, maybe something good can still come from it.
...
Inside England's dressing room, Southgate applauded.
"You played brilliantly, both in defense and attack. That half far exceeded expectations."
"Especially Jeremy... well, I suppose you're probably tired of hearing praise by now."
"Coach, if someone gets tired of praise, that's them, not me."
Ling smiled happily. "Feel free to say whatever you want. I'll take it all in."
A few players burst out laughing.
Southgate shook his head, then continued.
"Let's talk about the defense. The right side with Walker and Rice did an excellent job blocking Serbia's attacks."
"Did you notice?"
"Their most threatening play came at the start — breaking through on the left wing, crossing, and attacking the goal."
"But after that, they couldn't repeat it properly."
"Declan, your covering for Jeremy was spot on. Since he tends to push forward into the half-space, you had to run extra, and you did it well."
Rice quickly waved his hands.
"That's my job. Even if my passing still has room to improve, my stamina's decent."
And that was exactly why Southgate trusted him.
...
Soon, the second half began.
Who knew what kind of pep talk Serbia's coach had given his players?
"You carry the hopes of the people!"
"Fight for the shirt!"
"Fight for the country!"
Perhaps something along those lines.
They launched a fierce attack right from the start, charging toward England's half with wild determination.
And it actually worked.
They managed to apply sustained pressure as a team.
Even Ling could not do much about it.
After all, this was a collective issue, not an individual one.
In the 73rd minute of the second half, Kostić broke through forcefully on the wing and curled a cross toward the far post.
Mitrović was right behind him.
Walker chose to stick out his foot, but the ball, as if guided by some unseen force, rolled into his own net.
It was a move born of desperation.
Given the direction his body was facing, clearing the ball was always going to be difficult.
Moreover, the ball had bounced slightly as it came across.
"Serbia have one back!"
"It's unfortunate for Walker, but Serbia will not care. They have found breath, they have found belief, and Belgrade has found its voice again!"
Jim Beglin added, "That's harsh on Walker. He has to try to cut it out. If he leaves it, Mitrović probably scores anyway."
"Don't let it get to you. You did the right thing by sticking your foot out. If you hadn't, we'd have no hope defending balls like that."
Ling fished the ball out of the net, left those words behind, and turned away.
That was his genuine thought.
When danger loomed in front of goal, letting the ball slip past out of fear of taking the blame — what hope would there be for a team then?
This goal did not shatter England's morale.
Because just five minutes later, Walker intercepted the ball again on the flank and slipped a diagonal pass to Ling, who was making a supporting run.
Thwack!
With almost no field of vision, Ling turned and delivered an over-the-top long pass.
The ball sliced through Serbia's overly advanced formation!
"STERLING!"
"HE'S THROUGH!"
"ONE ON ONE AGAINST THE GOALKEEPER!"
Sterling did not falter this time as he calmly slotted the ball home.
1–3.
"ENGLAND ANSWER!"
"Walker makes the mistake, Walker wins it back, Ling opens the door, and Sterling walks through it with ice in his veins!"
"That is how serious teams respond. Not with panic. Not with collapse. But with one clean cut through the noise!"
When the final whistle blew, the LED screen by the pitch displayed the score:
Serbia 1–3 England.