Fans surged onto the pitch in a frenzy, and the situation was rapidly spiraling out of control!
In the livestream chats, ssages flooded in at a manic pace. Even premium floating comnts—those that required Happy Beans to send—completely filled the screen!
"Let's raise our voices together and congratulate Spain! They're champions!!!"
"This is only the beginning—this group of youngsters will inject fresh blood into Spain's senior team!"
"It's over!!! Congratulations to Spain!!!"
At Liverpool's youth academy, disappointnt was written across most faces.
Yet among them, so England fans who supported Leo Lin felt conflicted—disappointed, yes, but genuinely happy for him as well.
The academy's official website rushed out ergency front-page headlines:
"Congratulations to Our Student Leo Lin on Winning the U17 World Cup!"
"Congratulations to Our Student Ochoa on Finishing Runner-Up at the U17 World Cup!"
Leo Lin had already lost count of how many people had grabbed him, hugged him, or even planted a few mysterious red marks on his cheeks…
Red smoke ignited by Spanish fans nearly blanketed the sky above Salt Lake Stadium.
The overhead broadcast shots swept downward, barely able to make out anything beneath the crimson haze.
Event staff quickly ford several lines of human barriers, pushing into the chaotic crowd.
Little by little, they separated the fans and guided them back toward the stands, while the stadium DJ repeatedly made announcents:
"All fans, please remain calm and return to the stands as soon as possible. Do not disrupt the venue—space is needed to set up the championship podium!"
"Please…"
The crowd gradually dispersed. Sowhere along the way, Leo Lin's captain's armband had vanished.
Had security not been tight, his jersey and shorts might have disappeared as well.
After finally breaking free from the sea of fans, Leo Lin headed down the players' tunnel and stopped by the back entrance of England's dressing room, where he found Ocho.
Tears still clung to Ocho's face—he had clearly just been crying. To co within a single step of the championship was sothing no one could easily accept.
Leo Lin stepped forward and wrapped him in a firm embrace.
"Ocho, stay strong. You'll always be my brother."
He didn't know what else to say. He simply held Ocho tightly, patting his back and repeating words of encouragent.
From their early days at the academy—sharing a dorm room, attending language classes together—their bond had long since grown deep.
Seeing Ocho perform so well in this match, Leo Lin was genuinely happy for him. He was certain Klopp wouldn't overlook that display.
After saying goodbye to Ocho, Leo Lin returned to the locker room, where Denia—overco with excitent—threw his arms around him and celebrated wildly.
"Guys!"
"This victory belongs to every single one of you!"
"From this mont on, you can hold your heads high in front of anyone!"
"Because you are world champions!!!"
"You are the finest young players in the world!!!"
Leo Lin led the victory dance, and the players linked up into a conga line, dancing wildly around the locker room.
Absolute chaos—in the best possible way.
The championship podium was quickly set up, and the Spanish players finished their preparations inside the locker room.
Fans had returned to the stands, and the stadium DJ began announcing the individual awards.
"Ladies and gentlen!"
"We will now present the individual awards of this U17 World Cup!"
"The winner of the Best Player award at this U17 World Cup is—"
The atmosphere instantly hit a boiling point. Every fan already knew the answer.
"From Liverpool!!!"
"Captain of Spain's U17 team!!!"
"The true number ten!!!"
"Leo!!!!"
"Lin!!!!"
The DJ shouted Leo Lin's na, and the entire stadium echoed it in unison.
For the first ti, Leo Lin truly savored what it felt like to walk onto the stage as a champion. The feeling was unlike anything else.
Outside the players' tunnel, young players lined both sides, making exaggerated gestures of admiration.
"Leo Lin has been outstanding throughout this World Cup, finishing one goal ahead of Foden to claim the Golden Boot, while also being nad the tournant's Best Player!"
"For a midfielder to achieve this, you understand just how difficult it is—and it speaks volus about Leo Lin's strength!"
"He is the ultimate blueprint for a super midfielder!"
"Over the course of the tournant, Leo Lin has displayed exceptional midfield control, physicality in duels, strong interception ability, and excellent passing."
"While areas like free kicks, ball control, close dribbling, balance shifts, and vision still have room for improvent, recent matches clearly show his speed and explosiveness steadily rising."
"He's still developing, yet even now he's overwhelming players his own age, with a distinct style—using his strengths to attack others' weaknesses!"
"Play to your strengths—that's the path to victory!"
"In football, to beco a true superstar, you must have your own defining traits!"
Derek Rae looked at Leo Lin, holding both the gleaming Golden Boot and the Best Player trophy, and couldn't help but smile with satisfaction.
Across the major livestreams:
"No debate—he deserves it!"
"I'm already looking forward to the next market value update!"
"The real hero of the championship!"
"Mbappe, don't call —I'm afraid Leo Lin might get the wrong idea!"
In the stands, Barnett checked the live Golden Boy odds on his phone.
Leo Lin's odds were now far ahead of Mbappe's—sitting firmly in first place, eight percentage points clear.
A notification chid in Leo Lin's mind.
"Congratulations, Host. You have successfully achieved the milestone of winning the U17 World Cup. Reward: 150 points!"
Another 150 points were added to his total. He was now only about 100 points away from the 300-point mark.
His teammates lined up one by one to receive their championship dals.
The FIFA president placed the shining gold dals around the Spanish players' necks, while the U17 World Cup trophy—symbol of the highest honor—waited quietly for its captain.
A deep, rumbling roar rose from the Spanish supporters.
On the podium, the young Spanish players stomped in place, hands pressing downward in unison.
Calm and composed, with the bearing of a true leader, Leo Lin stepped forward.
He lifted the radiant U17 World Cup trophy with both hands, his face lit with a proud, unrestrained smile.
Leaning back slightly, he walked step by step toward the very center of the podium.
This was the fearless swagger that only youth could possess—sothing no other age could ever fake.
Reaching the center, Leo Lin first lowered the trophy.
The low roar inside Salt Lake Stadium grew heavier and deeper.
Then—
He raised the trophy high above his head!
The stadium exploded!
Even the staff could feel the turf trembling beneath their feet!
Leo Lin's face—twisted with pure, overwhelming joy—was seared into every fan's mory under the glow of the trophy.
Fireworks burst behind him.
Confetti filled the sky.
Leo Lin's story had only just begun!!!
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