"Oh my God! Lu Yang has delivered a rising shot! This is the best response to those who doubted his long shots!"
"This shot was powerful, especially remarkable because Lu Yang took it while shoulder to shoulder with the opposing central defender."
"Before today, there were rumors in the football world that Lu Yang was the Crown Prince of Purple Lily, because Lu Yang had a similar playing history to Florence’s super central forward, Carrel."
"Many people thought it was just aningless hype because Lu Yang couldn’t possibly play like Carrel."
"But... Lu Yang has done it!"
"Oh, the cara has moved to Carrel, and he’s dancing excitedly, calling out to Maniero beside him."
"Maniero is equally excited, cheering and applauding Lu Yang’s goal just like San Remo’s fans."
"Wait, Lu Yang isn’t celebrating the goal! He’s running back to the defense, heading towards the main referee! What’s he trying to do?"
The ga is full of twists and turns.
Lu Yang brushes past the main referee.
On the way, his eyes convey a clear ssage.
Borges plays like that, and you don’t even give him a yellow card? That tackle from behind could even warrant a red card!
And the main referee’s evasive gaze equally indicates that he won’t give Borges a second yellow card, don’t ask why, but there’s definitely a reason.
Lu Yang and the main referee’s eye contact, fleeting.
He walks over to Morici: "How are you?"
Morici responds: "Maybe it’s okay, but..."
Morici’s hand opens slightly, and Lu Yang sees the injury on his ankle.
The cara also captures this scene.
Morici’s ankle was cut by studs, with two fairly deep gashes.
For football players, especially midfielders and forwards, the use of their feet is extrely demanding.
Especially those who need to pass and shoot powerfully.
Any minor injury to their ankles would seriously affect their performance.
"Stop pretending. You collapse like a woman at the slightest touch. Just get off the field, or I promise I’ll break your leg!" Borges snapped harshly from the side.
Their team was unexpectedly trailing!
If they lose this match, their dream of finishing in the top five will be completely shattered.
This ans those who bet on the match will lose a lot of money.
Borges himself is one of them.
For Potenza to make it into the top five looks extrely difficult, needing to win all remaining matches.
But in their schedule, only San Remo is a tough opponent, while the others are lower-ranked teams with no relegation pressure, so... it’s a good opportunity.
Borges placed a big bet on his team finishing in the league’s top five.
He can’t afford to lose.
But the next mont, Borges no longer thought about any of that.
Because a fist landed hard on his cheek.
"Go to hell!" Lu Yang launched a punch.
He couldn’t endure it anymore.
He didn’t want to endure it either.
He had to take Borges out, or else Morici would definitely get injured and leave today!
"I’ll kill you!" Borges retaliated, trying to strike back at Lu Yang.
But Lu Yang surprisingly used both hands and feet, driving a knee into Borges’ abdon, making him lose his ability to resist, then delivered an uppercut, knocking him down.
Almost at the sa ti, Potenza’s players reacted.
Their number eight player raised his fist and charged at Lu Yang from the side, he must have bet a lot too.
But Lu Yang sidestepped and dodged the strike, then caught the opponent’s arm, lifted his elbow, turned around, and slamd an elbow into the opponent’s face.
Bam!
Down goes another one.
"Watch out!" Morici exclaid from the ground when he saw Lu Yang’s back, barely having ti to shout a warning.
Potenza’s number three player suddenly delivered a flying kick towards Lu Yang’s back.
With the power of a footballer, if that kick landed, Lu Yang would likely be carried off the field.
But Lu Yang, as if he had eyes on the back of his head.
He turned, sidestepped the foot, and grabbed the airborne opponent, using the montum to slam him onto Borges, who had just gotten up to charge at him.
Bang!
Potenza lost three players to the ground.
"You can’t beat us in soccer, and you’re just as useless in a fight!" Lu Yang shouted, glaring at the surrounding Potenza players, "Co on, if you dare, co at !"
Several Potenza players who were about to rush in froze like startled birds, stepping back one by one.
Wherever Lu Yang’s eyes landed, Potenza’s players retreated.
No match!
No match at all!
Damn, he’s a Flower Planter!
Kung fu!
He knows kung fu!
The comntator was stunned: "Oh, my God, this..."
"This is definitely the most exciting boxing match, oh no, football match of the Italian D Division season."
"Lu Yang single-handedly KO’d three Potenza players in a row, including the notorious football ’bad boy’ Borges!"
"No one dares to challenge Lu Yang. He’s not just the Crown Prince of Purple Lily; he’s the King of San Remo! The Boxing King!"
"Perhaps this shouldn’t be said, but... on-field brawls are sotis part of a football match!"
"Of course, Lu Yang’s behavior was definitely inappropriate, but... if the referee had penalized Borges earlier as he deserved, none of this would have happened."
"San Remo faced extrely unfair judgnts at their ho field today, and their anger is justified."
"Oh, the main referee finally reacted, showing a red card to Lu Yang directly!"
"We see Lu Yang isn’t showing any emotional reaction, his expression is very calm, which ans his prior actions might not be a rash decision. That look reminds of the Italy Team versus England Team battle for a World Cup qualifying spot ten years ago."
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