Although the ball was a little high, Leo Lin felt as if wind were gathering beneath his feet.
His body became impossibly light.
It was as though the hand of God had lifted him into the air.
Leo Lin's pupils widened, the whites of his eyes streaked with blood.
Varane and Umtiti had wanted to shut him down in the air, but they could only watch as Leo Lin, trapped between them, exploded in an instant. Under their horrified gazes, he rose with a strength that should not have been possible.
Lloris, charging off his line, could hardly believe it.
Leo Lin seemed to fly toward the ball, closing the distance at terrifying speed. Then, in midair, he actually used his head to take the ball past him.
First, Leo Lin forced his way through the defenders. Then, while still airborne, he gently nodded the ball forward, beating the onrushing Lloris with a header.
A second ago, he had been sprinting through the air. The instant he landed, Leo Lin killed his momentum, planted his right foot, and twisted his body to generate power.
He had not even entered the penalty area yet, but Leo Lin struck it.
He aimed at the empty net and blasted it.
Not a placed finish.
A blast.
It was not the best choice, but at that moment, all Leo Lin wanted was to smash it.
"Bang!!!"
The heavy artillery roared.
"Swish!!!"
The ball slammed into the net.
A last second equalizer!
"Fuck!" Derek Rae was so stunned that he cursed on air.
"Fuck!"
"My God!"
"Equalizer!"
"The equalizer of the century!"
"Leo Lin!"
"Leo Lin!"
"Leo Lin has equalized!"
"He has tied the score!"
"Four all!"
"A four goal haul!"
"A four goal haul!"
"Leo Lin has equalized in the final second of the match!"
Marca.
Casillas.
Fernando Torres.
Weeping.
...
Luzhniki Stadium.
The bench.
Xavi.
Raúl
Villa.
Weeping.
...
The stands.
The Spanish fans.
Weeping.
Only Hierro remained standing on the touchline, forcing himself to breathe deeply, doing everything he could to stay calm.
Everyone else could cry in this moment.
But not him.
Because he was the head coach.
He had to stay composed until the match was truly over.
Even Diego Costa's eyes had reddened, and so had Sergio Ramos's.
He pumped his fists wildly and roared toward the Spanish fans. Then he charged straight into them, throwing himself into their embraces as countless hands slapped and patted his body.
Leo Lin had entered a state beyond himself.
After blasting the ball into the net, Diego Maradona's hidden passive skill effect disappeared. Leo Lin instantly felt as if all the strength had been drained from his body.
Then the energy inside him surged back, flooding through him again.
It was like being reborn.
In the next instant, wild joy and exhilaration filled his mind. The most intense positive emotions a human could feel coursed through every inch of his body.
Leo Lin vaulted past the advertising boards, raised both arms high, and sprinted in front of the celebrating Spanish fans.
All the Spanish players chased after him. They did not know what they were doing. They only knew they had to follow Leo Lin, as if they were following The Emperor.
Casillas could not say a word. He simply wept.
Zidane, standing nearby, could not say a word either. He was overcome with pain.
Even the referee, Pitana, felt the scene was unbelievable. Goosebumps rose all over his arms.
He was lucky. He was the closest spectator in the world, and he had witnessed Leo Lin's equalizer of the century.
The French players crouched on the ground.
They had been less than a minute away from the World Cup title.
And now, everything had been reset.
Amid the frantic celebrations, the players from both sides returned to the pitch.
Leo Lin stood firmly at midfield, waiting for the match to continue.
Every Spanish player snapped awake again. That feeling of taking their fate back into their own hands, that feeling of being given a new life, unleashed endless energy inside them.
The balance of attack and defense had shifted. Spain had become the side with greater momentum.
Regulation time soon ended, and the fiercely contested battle was dragged into extra time.
Hierro made another substitution, bringing on Iniesta for David Silva.
Perhaps he wanted David Silva to recreate that old dramatic winner, but both teams were simply too exhausted.
The first half of extra time ended quickly. Fifteen minutes passed as if they were one, and neither side created a real chance.
The match had reached a stage that could only be described as painful. Everyone was holding on through sheer will.
For the first time, Leo Lin felt as if he was no longer playing soccer.
He was playing with his life.
The entire stadium had turned into purgatory.
The suffocating pressure, together with the belief that you absolutely could not surrender, left everyone struggling through pain and despair.
You had no idea what might happen in the next minute, or even the next second.
Something could happen that would crush you instantly, leave you collapsed on the ground, and make sure you never got up again.
Or something could happen that would send you into ecstasy and bring you closer to the World Cup trophy.
The second half of extra time began.
The frantic pressing continued.
Even though they were exhausted beyond their limits, no one gave up.
"Saúl and Pogba collide, and the ball is still loose."
"Leo Lin is fighting for it. Kanté challenges as well! There are as many as five players packed together. The battle in the middle is absolutely brutal!"
...
"He goes straight for goal from distance, but it flies over!"
"Thiago's attempt was not bad, but he clearly no longer has the stamina to control his technique properly!"
"I can feel the exhaustion through the screen. Just watching these players run out there is tiring."
Derek Rae sighed.
His voice had long since gone hoarse.
"Everyone is doing everything they can to maintain their technique and avoid making a mistake."
Leo Lin was so exhausted that his mind had begun to blur. He was certain he was not the only one feeling this way.
Finally.
"Beep!"
"Beep!"
"Beep!"
The full 120 minutes were over.
The referee blew the whistle to end this clash at the very peak of world soccer.
Every fan let out a long breath. Players from both teams collapsed to the ground, completely drained.
But still waiting for them was the cruelest test of all.
A penalty shootout.
The players from both teams lay along the touchline, receiving massages from the team doctors.
"Lin."
"Lin!"
"Lin!"
Only after Sergio Ramos called him three times did Leo Lin, lying beside him, finally turn his head.
"Which penalty do you want to take?"
Hierro, standing in front of them, immediately spoke.
"Sergio Ramos, you arrange the first few. Leo Lin takes the fifth."
Hierro nodded to Leo Lin. He was absolutely certain that a penalty this crucial had to be taken by Leo Lin.
Although he was young, Leo Lin gave Hierro an overwhelming sense of reliability.
Leo Lin was still trapped in the extra time that had just ended. For those thirty minutes, Luzhniki had felt like hell.
He had never played a match to this extent before. Every step was difficult, every second was torment, and every moment was an immense test of both body and mind.
Only when the whistle blew did Leo Lin feel released.
Every player reacted the same way.
What awaited them now was the final penalty shootout that would decide their fate, the cruelest stage in all of soccer.
The outcome could be settled within five penalties.
Or it could go to ten, and keep going until one team finally won.
Both teams soon confirmed their final penalty order.
Every fan held their breath, waiting for the final showdown to begin.
"To decide the winner through a penalty shootout is cruel for both sides, but it is also fair."
"I really can't watch. God, I might as well just check the result."
"I'm this nervous just watching the live broadcast. I can't imagine how strong these players have to be mentally."
"Anyone who can stand at the twelve yard spot is a hero."
Pitana confirmed the final procedures with both goalkeepers. Then the two elite teams took the pitch and stood side by side, lined up across the halfway line.
What awaited them next was the final battle that would decide their fate.
Penalty Shootout.
...
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