After the battle against Porto, Lin Yuan's name became completely notorious and also went completely viral in Portugal.
If you searched "Lin Yuan" on Google, the associated terms were no longer the initial "that Chinese kid," but had become—
"The Butcher of Estádio do Bessa"
"The Nightmare of All Primeira Liga Strikers"
"The Beast That Needs to Be Caged"
Record even published a front-page headline featuring a photo of Lin Yuan staring expressionlessly at Pepe, with a highly provocative caption: "This is a war, and he is a weapon of mass destruction."
On the Iberian Peninsula, where technique is emphasized and offense is revered, Lin Yuan's "mudslide" style of play was undoubtedly a declaration of war against the entire league... Boavista training base.
"Listen, kid."
Head coach Pacheco slammed a stack of newspapers onto the locker in front of Lin Yuan, his expression grave. "You're a celebrity now. But I guarantee that the next match will be the toughest one of your career."
While tying his shoelaces, Lin Yuan looked up with a calm gaze. "Because of SC Braga?"
Their next opponent was Braga, the famous "fourth giant" of the Primeira Liga, known for their delicate style of play and for producing agile Brazilian wingers.
"No, it's because of the referee." Pacheco pointed upwards. "Someone at the Football Association is unhappy. You almost ended Pepe in the last game, and Porto is putting on a lot of pressure. In this match, if your breathing is even a little too loud, the referee will card you."
"Furthermore," Pacheco paused and drew a red circle on the tactical board, "those Brazilians from Braga are best at one thing—acting."
"They'll use their speed to get past you, or pretend to be bypassed by you, only to collapse and scream the moment you stick your foot out, as if they've been hit by a sniper. If you get a red card, the media will eat you alive."
The locker room fell silent. His teammates all looked at Lin Yuan.
Everyone knew that Lin Yuan's current style was entirely built on physical confrontation. If the referee targeted him, or if opponents "flopped," the beast's fangs would be pulled.
Lin Yuan stood up and cracked his neck with a sharp pop.
"Acting?"
The corner of his mouth curled into an extremely rare, mocking arc.
"Then I'll let them know what a real 'action movie' is, and what a 'horror movie' is."
Sunday, Municipal Stadium.
The stands were filled with thunderous boos. Braga's fans were clearly influenced by the media; as soon as Lin Yuan touched the ball, a tidal wave of insults like "Go back to China" and "Barbarian" surged toward him.
Just ten minutes into the match, the "beast trap" set for Lin Yuan was sprung.
Braga's left winger, the Brazilian prodigy Ricardinho wearing number 10, was a small man standing only 168cm tall but possessing incredibly fast footwork.
He was like an annoying fly, constantly buzzing around Lin Yuan.
"Hey, big guy, come and catch me!"
Ricardinho performed step-overs, deliberately showing off his footwork in front of Lin Yuan. "I heard you're good at crashing into people? Come on, try touching me."
Lin Yuan remained expressionless, merely staring coldly at the other man's feet.
[System Notification: Hostile provocation detected. notoriety points +50.]
In the 15th minute, the trap arrived.
Ricardinho took the ball at the edge of the penalty area and suddenly changed direction. It looked like a breakthrough, but he actually slowed down, waiting—waiting for Lin Yuan's signature fierce challenge.
As long as Lin Yuan extended his foot or even made a charging motion, Ricardinho would surely fly off like a kite with a broken string and roll eighteen times on the turf.
The referee's hand was already reaching for his breast pocket, his eyes fixed intently on Lin Yuan.
The entire crowd held their breath, waiting for the "barbarian" to take the bait.
Lin Yuan moved.
He charged forward like an out-of-control tank, moving with incredible speed and a terrifying momentum!
Ricardinho was ecstatic: He took the bait! A big dummy is just a big dummy!
At the moment they were about to collide, Ricardinho's body was already prepared for "takeoff," his center of gravity leaning back in advance, his mouth wide open to let out a scream—
However.
Screech—!!!
The ear-piercing sound of a sudden stop rang out.
The expected impact did not occur.
Lin Yuan's massive frame froze instantly just five centimeters away from Ricardinho, as if defying the laws of physics!
It was a manifestation of core strength reached to the absolute limit!
"Wha..."
Ricardinho had already thrown his weight back, and his body was falling uncontrollably. But to his horror, he found that Lin Yuan hadn't touched him at all! Lin Yuan had even put his hands behind his back, looking at him as if he were an idiot!
Thud.
Due to the momentary shock and loss of balance, Ricardinho tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his face in an extremely pathetic manner.
Most embarrassingly, because he had prepared his "scream" in advance, he habitually let out a shrill "Ah!!!" as he fell.
The stadium fell silent.
Lin Yuan stood where he was, hands behind his back, looking down at Ricardinho "rolling in pain" at his feet. Then he looked up and gazed innocently at the head referee running over.
"Sir, you saw clearly."
Lin Yuan shrugged. His voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet stadium. "The turf here might be too slippery, or maybe... the wind is too strong?"
The referee's face turned green.
If he called such an obvious "phantom foul," his professional career would be over by tomorrow.
"Get up!" The referee shouted with a dark expression at Ricardinho on the ground and unhesitatingly pulled out a yellow card. "Diving! Yellow card!"
"Hahahaha!"
The previously tense Boavista bench burst into laughter instantly.
The boos from the stands turned into an awkward clamor.
Lin Yuan watched as a bewildered Ricardinho scrambled up. He leaned in slowly and said in a voice only the two of them could hear:
"Your acting is too exaggerated. Is this the talent of you Brazilians?"
Ricardinho's face flushed bright red, filled with both shame and anger.
"However," Lin Yuan's tone shifted, the playfulness in his eyes vanishing instantly to be replaced by a suffocating chill, "since you want to lie down so badly, it would be impolite of me not to oblige you."
Three minutes later.
Braga launched an attack, and it was Ricardinho again. This time, he was clearly hesitant after receiving the ball, not daring to make a move easily.
In that moment of hesitation.
A dark shadow obscured the sunlight.
"Now, it's for real."
This whisper sounded like a death sentence from the Grim Reaper.
Bam!!!
This time, there were no brakes.
Lin Yuan turned sideways and delivered a perfectly legal, textbook shoulder charge squarely into Ricardinho's shoulder.
In the face of such an absolute gap in power and weight, technique was meaningless.
This time, Ricardinho wasn't acting.
He really flew.
He flew sideways for two meters, slamming heavily into the advertising boards with a dull thud, then slid down like a pile of mud, never getting back up.
The stadium instantly fell into a dead silence.
The stretcher crew rushed onto the field.
The referee rushed over with his whistle in his mouth, hand reaching for his pocket, but after hesitating for a long time, he only blew a sharp blast—he couldn't even pull out a yellow card.
Because Lin Yuan kept his arms tight against his body throughout, didn't raise an elbow, and didn't show his studs; it was purely a legal charge.
It was just that this tank had a bit too much horsepower.
Lin Yuan didn't even glance at his opponent on the ground. He turned to run back, and as he passed the stunned referee, he said nonchalantly:
"That was a fair challenge, right, sir? After all, football is a man's game."
[System Notification: Your brutality has intimidated the entire stadium.]
[System Notification: The opponent (Ricardinho) has developed a psychological shadow due to fear. notoriety points +300!]
[New Achievement Unlocked: Legal Assault. Reward: 1 Trait Fragment.]
At this moment, the Braga fans in the stands forgot to boo. They finally realized that the media was wrong.
This Chinese man was not just a beast who relied on brute force.
He was a demon who had a brain, mastered the rules, and took pleasure in it... After the match ended, Boavista won narrowly 1-0.
Lin Yuan was once again named Man of the Match.
In the locker room, his teammates were reveling, celebrating this hard-won victory.
After showering, Lin Yuan sat in the corner with a towel draped over him and took out his phone.
A missed call from back home popped up on the screen, the number displaying "Chinese Football Association."
Looking at that number, Lin Yuan's nerves, which had relaxed slightly after the victory, instantly tensed up.
The trouble he feared and loathed the most had finally come knocking.