The rain poured down harder and harder, as if it wanted to completely submerge the city of Porto.
88th minute of the match.
The score was 1-2.
Just a few minutes ago, Boavista had pulled one back through a chaotic counterattack. Although the attack had been initiated by Lin Yuan—who had brutally knocked over the opposing ball carrier and poked the ball to a teammate—their situation remained precarious.
The muddy turf clung to the players' legs like a swamp. The technical geniuses of Guimarães had long since run out of steam; every step they took consumed an immense amount of physical energy.
Except for one person.
Lin Yuan panted heavily, rain sliding down his sharp-featured face. His jersey was covered in black mud, making his number completely unreadable, but his eyes shone terrifyingly bright through the curtain of rain.
[S-rank passive skill "Savage Physique" is currently active.]
(Description: When other players on the field have their stamina drop to the red line, your physical functions will remain above 85%. Pain is your best fuel.)
"Corner kick! The last corner kick!"
On the sidelines, Coach Pacheco roared hoarsely, completely disregarding the rainwater pouring into his mouth. "Everyone get up there! I'll kill anyone who dares to stay back!"
This was the final chance.
Tactics were no longer needed at this moment; all that was required was a desperate gamble.
Lin Yuan wiped the muddy water from his face and ran into the Guimarães penalty area with heavy steps.
As a defensive midfielder, this wasn't an area he was supposed to be in. But his tank-like physique and the ruthlessness he had shown earlier when taking out the opponent's core player made the Guimarães defenders instinctively nervous.
"Mark that Number 16! Don't let him move!" the opposing goalkeeper shouted in terror, directing the defense.
Two tall Black center-backs immediately sandwiched Lin Yuan from both sides, trying to use their elbows to pin his ribs and restrict his jump.
"Get lost."
Lin Yuan cursed under his breath.
Instead of avoiding them, he squeezed between the two like a wedge. The impact of muscle against muscle produced a dull, teeth-grinding sound.
The corner kick was taken.
The ball traced a wet arc through the air, dropping into the chaotic six-yard box.
The placement wasn't great; it was a bit too deep and not high enough.
But that didn't matter.
The moment the ball flew in, Lin Yuan didn't jump in place to contest the header like an ordinary player. He made an incredibly reckless move—he surged forward with explosive power like an angry bull, directly knocking aside the 1.9-meter-tall center-back in front of him!
This wasn't a header contest.
This was a siege!
"Boom!!!"
The opposing center-back let out a scream, losing his balance from the brute force and stumbling to the ground.
Using the counterforce of the collision, Lin Yuan's body completely lost its center of gravity in the air, but he didn't care about his form. He turned himself into a human cannonball and slammed his back hard against the incoming ball!
There was no elegance of a volley.
No nimbleness of a glancing header.
Only pure, unreasonable violence.
"Thump!"
The ball slammed heavily into his shoulder blade, making a dull thud before taking a strange deflection.
The Guimarães goalkeeper had been prepared to come out and catch the ball, but he was caught off guard by the sudden change in direction. He watched helplessly as the mud-stained ball, moving like an errant meteor, grazed the inside of the post and slowly rolled into the net!
2-2!
The whistle blew almost simultaneously.
The entire stadium froze for a brief moment before erupting into the frantic roars of the Boavista fans.
It was an incredibly ugly goal.
But on a muddy, rainy night, it was the pinnacle of violent aesthetics.
After scoring, Lin Yuan fell heavily into a mud puddle because he had lost his balance, burying half his face in the muddy water.
But he quickly scrambled back up.
He spat out the grit in his mouth and looked expressionlessly at the two Guimarães defenders still groaning on the ground, slowly spreading his mud-covered arms.
His posture was like that of a tyrant overlooking his kingdom.
A cold, mechanical voice flooded his mind.
[Detected that the host has completed an "unreasonable" goal.]
[Evaluation: Zero technical skill, pure physical suppression. Very bully-like.]
[Gained notoriety points: 150.]
[Hidden achievement triggered: "Silent Debut Goal"]
(Description: You scored in your debut using non-technical means and didn't celebrate; this indifference makes your opponents feel a deep sense of helplessness.)
[Current total notoriety points: 520.]
[Tip: notoriety points are sufficient to unlock the ticket for "Intermediate Defensive Training (Gattuso Template)".]
"Lin! You madman!"
A figure suddenly lunged at him.
It was Captain Ricardo—the man Lin Yuan had knocked flying in a training match a week ago. Now, the Portuguese winger excitedly grabbed Lin Yuan by the neck and roared in his ear:
"My God, that move just now was like a battering ram! I freaking love this terrible goal!"
Then, more teammates rushed over.
Bruno, Martins... The teammates who had once mocked him as a "flop" and sidelined him were now piled on top of him like a human pyramid, frantically slapping his back.
The world of football is just that realistic.
If you're weak, even breathing is a mistake.
If you're tough, the whole world will make way for you.
Lin Yuan was pinned at the bottom, feeling the weight and the smell of sweat from his teammates.
He didn't smile.
Through the gaps in the crowd, he looked up at the cold rain in the night sky, and the voice in his heart became clearer and clearer:
"This is only the beginning."
...The final whistle blew.
This youth team match, watched by only a few thousand people, was over.
But for Lin Yuan, his war had only just begun.
Inside the dressing room.
Coach Pacheco pushed open the door and entered, holding a stack of statistical reports.
The dressing room fell silent instantly.
Pacheco looked around at everyone, his gaze finally landing on Lin Yuan in the corner, who was icing his knees.
"Number 16."
Pacheco's voice was still hoarse, but the previous contempt was gone.
"Don't come to B-team training tomorrow."
Lin Yuan's hands paused.
The surrounding teammates were also stunned. Was it because of that yellow card?
A hideous smile spread across Pacheco's face as he tossed the report in front of Lin Yuan:
"The first team head coach just called me. Two defensive midfielders in the first team got injured this week."
"Pack your things and get your ass to the first team to report."
"The Primeira Liga needs a bastard like you."