Chapter 630: Strange Empathy

The atmosphere was somewhat strange; it didn't feel like a National Team match, lacking that sense of unity and shared purpose. As for why, Ji Xiang couldn't figure it out.

His social experience was insufficient, and he didn't usually have much interest in football, nor did he know much about it. This peculiar atmosphere... even if he racked his brains, Ji Xiang couldn't understand why.

So, when he first arrived in this Empathy, Ji Xiang felt everything was so unfamiliar.

With only 12 minutes left until the end of the match, Ji Xiang gradually recalled some things.

Those two foreigners in the stands were scouts from AC Milan; they had come specifically today to watch Ji Xiang's performance.

But the Coach, clearly knowing that people were there to watch the game, still only gave Ji Xiang a dozen minutes of playing time during garbage time.

Let it be, Ji Xiang didn't care.

It wasn't because of the Empathy—the people or objects here were all data and had nothing to do with him—but rather, that was just the kind of person Ji Xiang was.

Kick-off at the center circle, slow passing; Ji Xiang discovered that he seemed to be fighting against the opposing 11 players all by himself.

Only he was working hard to press and tackle, while the other players on his side were just strolling.

Damn it!

Ji Xiang cursed viciously in his heart; the behavior of the others stirred up that stubborn streak inside him.

Charging in time and again, although he possessed superior talent, Ji Xiang's success rate wasn't high.

Time ticked away second by second, and Ji Xiang finally managed a beautiful steal in the backfield by taking advantage of the opponent's carelessness.

He moved in an arc that almost defied the laws of physics, used his speed to burst past three defensive players, and took a fierce touch forward with the ball.

Suddenly!

A figure rushed over like lightning, and the vicious sliding tackle made Ji Xiang feel a huge threat.

Ji Xiang could even be certain that the opponent was aiming for his ankle joint, not the ball.

Targeting the person instead of the ball, without a shred of sportsmanship, and this was while the opponent was already leading by 4 goals—this was just too much!

There was no time to dribble; Ji Xiang could only leap high to avoid this malicious foul.

When Ji Xiang landed, he turned his head to see who exactly was disregarding sportsmanship by sliding in to cripple him. The next second, Ji Xiang froze.

The one who made the tackle wasn't an opposing player, but... his own teammate.

Are they crazy!

Are they all fucking crazy!

He had just completed a steal, yet a "teammate" had actually aimed a dirty kick at him!

Is this even a football match? Ji Xiang was stunned for a full 5 seconds; although he had just arrived, he had already felt a continuous stream of malice.

Was it worth it!

A wave of sadness welled up from his heart, almost washing away that stubborn streak from just a moment ago.

But Ji Xiang had a strong mind; as soon as this negative emotion appeared, he realized it was wrong and immediately brushed it aside.

Continue to press and fight; others might not move, but Ji Xiang would.

It was just that the people Ji Xiang paid attention to were not only the opponents, but also his "own people."

That dirty kick left Ji Xiang with lingering fears; although it was only an Empathy, Ji Xiang absolutely did not want to suffer a physical injury.

A few minutes later, Ji Xiang once again used an opponent's mistake to steal the ball.

At this moment, in his eyes, he was surrounded by opponents, with no comrades. Ji Xiang pushed his speed to the limit, used his body to muscle past the opponents, and sprinted all the way.

The opposing backfield players swarmed to intercept him, and from thirty meters in front of the penalty area, Ji Xiang suddenly unleashed a powerful shot.

The football fell into the goal once again.

Ji Xiang picked up the football from the opponent's goal and ran toward the center circle again.

At this moment, he was like a paranoid, with everyone coldly watching this kid who was so out of place with his surroundings.

Time entered the stoppage time phase, and Ji Xiang caught a glimpse of the scouts in the stands talking with smiles on their faces.

He knew his performance should have already passed the test, but Ji Xiang just couldn't accept it in his heart.

Another steal, breaking out of the encirclement, Ji Xiang sent the football into the opponent's goal for the third time in his very limited playing time.

The score was 3:4.

After this goal, the atmosphere on the field was a bit off; Ji Xiang didn't care about the murderous looks cast by his "teammates." Even if he was a lone wolf, he would fight with all his might.

Kick-off at midfield, after a few passes, the ball was sent to the backfield.

Ji Xiang knew they were wasting time; even if he could steal the ball, they would absolutely not give him the time.

But the next second, Ji Xiang stood at the half-line and stared in disbelief.

They weren't just passing the ball in the backfield; there was another act—when the ball was passed back to the goalkeeper, the goalkeeper stumbled, and the slow-moving ball leaked through his legs and rolled lazily into the goal.

The score was 3:5.

How could people be so shameless to such an extent!

Ji Xiang was speechless; he didn't even have the energy to shrug, spread his hands, or look at the sky.

The shamelessness of these people could no longer be described with words; the dirty kick aimed at him earlier, the "own goal" now, and the smiling faces and relieved expressions of his "own" players after the own goal—everything made Ji Xiang feel disgusted.

He suddenly remembered that the reason he joined the team was because of the high public demand, because when he was playing in Europe, he had already begun to show his potential, even attracting the covetous eyes of AC Milan.

But what was the use of joining the National Team? Without money, Ji Xiang had absolutely no playing time.

Don't ask; if you ask, it's that his condition is poor and he's suffering from jet lag.

The only time they left for him was a dozen minutes, and he had scored three goals.

However, this seemed to have ruined their big plan; they didn't even hesitate to use such clumsy methods to maintain a 2-goal lead.

Although he realized it was hopeless, Ji Xiang still ran hard, cherishing every minute on the field.

Another steal, Ji Xiang dribbled the ball all the way north; he didn't look around, because no one was worth trusting.

After a high-difficulty dribble to get past a player, Ji Xiang had just lifted his right leg, preparing for a powerful shot; he could even already hear the beautiful sound of the football spinning and rubbing against the net as it fell in.

Suddenly, intense pain shot through his left ankle, which was his supporting leg.

Ji Xiang spun a few times in mid-air, and he was shocked to see a "teammate" wearing the same colored jersey sliding in with a tackle from behind.

The tackle was vicious, as if Ji Xiang had just thrown the teammate's son into a well, cutting off his family line.

It's over...

Ji Xiang had thought about the treachery of the human heart, but he never imagined they could be this vicious, even resorting to such blatant actions just to stop him from scoring.

He was injured after all; Ji Xiang landed heavily on the ground, clutching his left foot and rolling around continuously.

The referee was stunned, wondering how to call a situation like this.

He had never seen such a vicious tackle between teammates, or rather, an act of malicious foul play.

If it had been an opposing player, it would undoubtedly be a yellow card.

But...

The referee froze for a few seconds, then signaled for the team doctor to come onto the field and carry Ji Xiang off.

The AC Milan scout in the stands was also stunned; they had witnessed with their own eyes just how ruthless that kick was.

Could it be that a rising star was falling just like that?

They felt some regret, while the player who had just tackled and injured Ji Xiang wore an arrogant expression, as if using his gestures and facial expressions to tell the others—this is my turf, and I call the shots!

Whoever dares to say otherwise will end up just like Ji Xiang!

(End of this chapter)