Sorry for the delay guys.
--
When the final whistle finally echoed through the arena, David Qin didn't celebrate. He simply collapsed onto the turf, his lungs burning as he dragged in frantic gulps of air.
The 3-2 victory over Napoli looked respectable on paper, but the ninety minutes preceding it had been a grueling war of attrition. Rafa Benítez had set a tactical trap, forcing David into constant, high-intensity sprints just to find a yard of breathing room. At seventeen, his frame was still lean, lacking the hardened stamina of a veteran in their mid-twenties. To be forced into a full ninety-minute shift under such physical duress was a heavy toll.
"Nine goals in the Europa League already, David," Ivan Perišić said, dropping onto the grass beside him. "The chasing pack is thinning out. It's just Sevilla's Bacca and Higuaín left."
David waited for his heart rate to steady before answering. "How many do they have?"
"I think Carlos Bacca is on six, and Higuaín is sitting on seven," Perišić replied, doing the mental math.
David's brow furrowed. "Then we have to finish the job in the second leg. If we get knocked out now, Napoli gets three more games to play. I'm not letting the Golden Boot slip through my fingers just because Higuaín has more matches to work with."
While the Bundesliga top scorer title felt out of reach this season, the Europa League crown—and its individual honors—remained a primary objective.
"Relax," Luiz Gustavo said, stepping over and hauling both of them to their feet. "We're in the lead. Don't start manufacturing problems before they exist."
"We should still be careful," Kevin De Bruyne added, his voice uncharacteristically solemn. "Napoli isn't like Tottenham. Their system is far more cohesive. Hamšík and Higuaín have a telepathic connection, and if they start Insigne in the return leg..."
"Kevin's right," David agreed. "Look at the Spurs match—we almost let a massive lead evaporate in London. In football, 'almost' is a dangerous word. We have to be perfect in Naples."
"Listen to you two," Ivica Olić laughed, throwing an arm around both youngsters' shoulders. "You're so grim and mature. You're making us old-timers look irresponsible!"
Across the pitch, Gonzalo Higuaín surveyed the Volkswagen Arena with a cold, detached gaze. "This place is a library," he muttered to Lorenzo Insigne. "Next week, we bring them to the San Paolo. We'll show them what a real 'Hell' looks like."
"It's a shame we can't pack a hundred thousand in there," Insigne replied, his confidence unshaken by the loss. "Eighty thousand Neapolitans would scare the life out of Wolfsburg. We only lost today because the boss didn't start me. The return leg will be a different story."
The Italian media were already obsessed with the "Wolfsburg Twins," but in Naples, the duo of Higuaín and Insigne were viewed as the modern reincarnation of the Maradona era. The stakes were personal for Higuaín. Ever since his high-profile miss in the World Cup final, he had become the scapegoat of a nation, a man who avoided his computer screen because five seconds of scrolling would result in a mental breakdown. He needed a trophy to reclaim his status. He needed to be a hero again.
As he walked off, Higuaín looked back at David Qin, silently noting the number on the teenager's back.
--
"Mr. Hecking," a reporter began, "You hold a one-goal lead, just as you did against Tottenham. Are you concerned about a collapse in the second leg?"
Dieter Hecking smiled thinly. "We've grown since London. I expect a much more disciplined performance at the San Paolo."
"And David Qin?" a journalist from Sina Sports asked. "How do you rate his contribution today?"
"He played breathtaking football. All three of our goals involved him in some capacity," Hecking replied, leaning into the microphone. "Honestly, I have to spend my pre-match prep thinking of new adjectives to describe him. I'm getting old, and my vocabulary is running dry. But I think the fans and the media can see the truth for themselves."
In the opposite chair, Rafa Benítez was curt. "We will advance in Naples," he said simply. For Benítez, anything unrelated to the mechanics of the game was a waste of breath.
--
Back at the house, David collapsed onto the sofa, mindlessly flicking through soap operas until dinner was served. Afterward, he switched to the sports channels.
"Look at the strength on Hulk," David remarked, watching Sevilla take on Zenit St. Petersburg. The Brazilian powerhouse had just shrugged off Éver Banega as if he were a child. "He's a tank. I need to hit the gym."
"Sevilla are the favorites," De Bruyne noted as the match ended 2-1 for the Spaniards. "They have that Europa League DNA. The movement is flawless."
"Kevin, imagine this," David said, rubbing his chin. "If we advance and meet Fiorentina in the next round, we'll have basically taken a tour of the entire Serie A."
"David, please stop with the 'jinxing,'" De Bruyne groaned. "Why can't we just wish for Dnipro?"
David chuckled. He knew he had a habit of predicting the most difficult paths. He closed his eyes for a moment, jokingly whispering to his internal "system": Give me the R9 template. Give me the Vieri template. Give me 100% synchronization.
Nothing happened, of course. He sighed and switched the projector to game tape of Borussia Mönchengladbach. They were currently third in the table, five points clear of Leverkusen.
"The key is Yann Sommer," De Bruyne observed. "His save percentage is astronomical."
"Agreed," David said. "No more speculative long shots. We have to work the ball into the box. We need high-percentage looks."
--
As the night deepened, the football world wasn't talking about the Europa League. They were talking about the Champions League.
BILD: DISASTER IN PORTO! Bayern fall 3-1. Quaresma brace stuns the Bavarians. 23-year-old Casemiro dominates a midfield of Götze, Alonso, Thiago, and Lahm. Porto manager claims the '2004 Miracle' is being reborn!
THE KICKER: THE COLLAPSE? Bayern are in a tailspin. 2-0 loss to Gladbach, now 3-1 to Porto. The injury crisis is total: Ribéry, Robben, Schweinsteiger, Alaba, and Benatia all sidelined. The dynasty is fraying at the seams.
X / Reddit :
@MiaSanMad: What is Pep actually doing? He's overthinking us into the ground.
@TacticalGnome1: Did you see the Sun report? Pep and Dr. Müller-Wohlfahrt had a shouting match after the game. Pep blamed him for Ribéry not being fit.
@WolfsburgRisingq: Let them burn. If Bayern keeps dropping points, the Wolves have a legitimate shot at the Meisterschale.
@CanteenGate: Remember when Bayern's reserve coach banned David Qin from the canteen? Imagine being Rummenigge right now, watching the kid you couldn't afford to 'feed' lead a title charge against you.
"At the Supercup, you told me Manuel and Franck had 'minor knocks.' The next day, they were back in training. Why?" Pep Guardiola roared, slamming his hand onto the desk. He felt the club's entrenched medical staff were undermining his authority.
Dr. Hans-Wilhelm Müller-Wohlfahrt didn't blink. Before he could speak, Pep continued, "And Benatia? He plays for a month, he's out for a month. We are in the Champions League quarterfinals! Answer me!"
"My competence does not require your validation!" the Doctor barked back, rising to his feet. "I have been at this club for decades. My players have the lowest muscle injury rates in Europe! Why did Thiago go to Spain for treatment? Was it your lack of trust in me, or just a play for power?!"
"I am not your servant!" the Doctor continued. "You want players to stop feeling pain. I want them to be healed. Our philosophies are incompatible. If the trust is gone, then I am finished. I resign. Effective immediately."
He turned to Karl-Heinz Rummenigge, the club chairman. Rummenigge remained silent for a long beat. "Perhaps it is best you take a leave of absence, Hans. Volker will step in as interim."
The Doctor slammed the door on his way out.
"Pep," Rummenigge said into the sudden silence. "We brought you here for a revolution. We wanted a dynasty. But we are struggling. We cannot lose the league."
His biggest headache wasn't Porto—it was Wolfsburg. They were persistent, led by the European assist king and a kid that Bayern had effectively kicked out. The "Canteen Scandal" was making Bayern a laughingstock in the tabloids. The club that couldn't afford a meal for a Ballon d'Or nominee. He silently cursed Erik ten Hag and the youth staff for their short-sightedness.
"We will not lose the Bundesliga," Guardiola promised, his voice tight. "We have been too focused on central penetration. We will adapt. We will win the return leg against Porto, and we will hold the lead in the league."
The following day, David Qin read the news of the doctor's departure. He remembered Volker Braun, the interim doctor, from his days in the reserves.
"Volker is a good man," David mused. "He used to explain the mechanics of my injuries to me while he treated them." Then, a grin spread across his face. "Kevin, we have to win against Gladbach. Bayern is bleeding. We cannot waste this chance."
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