Chapter 148: He Is Not Anyone's Successor

The broadcast at Hu'an Chang Stadium suddenly rang with the rhythm of flamenco dance.

Fans from the Yin Biliya Peninsula raised their glasses of sherry.

"Lee!

"!

"Lee!

"!

"Lee!

"!

Seville, at this moment, seemed like the warmest city.

After Li Kang entered the field, he gestured a few signs to his teammates.

Everyone understood implicitly.

It was a fairly standard international hand signal.

Anyone could understand it.

Dunga's heart was completely calm.

He even felt like laughing.

The fallen-no-forward formation? Even if they put up a European genius midfield newcomer, it would be meaningless.

The Yin Biliya Peninsula's passing and control game is already dead.

It died in the 2013 Confederations Cup final.

The match resumed.

Alisson took the goal kick.

After receiving the coaching staff's instruction, David Luiz did not kick the ball long.

Instead, he chose to advance a few meters.

He passed the ball to Marcelo on the flank.

The Samba squad suddenly blew the horn of fierce attack.

The whole formation quickly pressed forward.

Cazorla and Yinniesita decisively won the ball back.

Marcelo suddenly accelerated, easily shaking off the two along the left flank.

"Even if the Spanish midfield masters' positioning is perfect, they can't withstand the explosive speed of Real Madrid's full-backs!"

"In the face of absolute speed, all positioning predictions are mere clouds!"

How explosive was Marcelo at this time?

If he didn't defend, he would be a super full-back with all attributes maxed out!

'Three Marcellos couldn't stop one Marcelo'

Dunga confidently laughed and said: "His defensive improvement over these two seasons has been huge; moreover, with Kroos providing cover at Real Madrid, Marcelo can switch between winger and attacking midfielder in attack at any time, while Modrić and Casemiro can protect the back line, so he just needs to push forward freely!"

The assistant coach said, bewildered: "Our Brazil team doesn't have Kroos and Modrić…"

Marcelo shot forward like a bolt, reaching near the midfield circle.

Neymar turned toward the central lane.

Coutinho quickly widened to the flank.

Their crossing runs were extremely flexible and swift.

Busquets' anticipation covered everything, but he needed teammates' support.

Carvajal arrived just in time.

Marcelo lifted his head, choosing not to attempt a dazzling dribble, but instinctively passed the ball to Coutinho.

He then continued to sprint down the flank.

The edge of the pitch.

Mininano nervously said: "Boss, Dunga... Brazil is going to use Mourinho and Ancelotti's tactics against us!"

Bosque chuckled: "Don't worry, we now have Li."

The other side.

Dunga stood on the sidelines, loudly cheering his teammates.

Attack!

Use attack to smash the bullfighters' revival fantasies.

Coutinho's early career was the template of a novel's male protagonist.

At 15 he played in the Brasileirão, with a max-level long shot, famous across South America,

At 17 he joined Inter Milan, his crescent moon cut technique stunned the Meazza.

He and Balotelli were hailed as Inter's future,

At 24, Coutinho is now Liverpool's hottest star, absolutely the top dog, the offensive core.

How explosive are his ability and form?

His peerless piercing arrow amazes the whole world.

Only Liverpool fans refuse to admit he's strong.

Unfortunately, he harbors a 'childhood dream'; for the rest of his life, he ultimately chased dreams to emptiness, tasted the vicissitudes of life, and experienced all flavors of sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy...

Hu'an Chang Stadium.

Coutinho stopped the ball.

Facing Koke's fierce tackle.

He didn't choose to dribble.

He stylishly tapped the ball with his heel.

The ball rolled toward Casemiro behind.

"A mesmerizing heel pass."

"Casemiro's forward run was perfectly timed, giving him better passing space."

Casemiro had already planned his next passing lane.

He shuffled to meet the ball.

He leaned in and swung his leg.

Thud!

A black-haired figure flashed past,

Real Madrid's tiger waist kicked air, his body staggered, expression shocked.

How can someone be so elegant even while sliding tackle?

Too freaky!

"Nice!"

"Li Kang, a clean and fierce tackle!"

"Spain's counterattack opportunity!"

"Oh no, the counterattack speed is too slow!"

Sevilla fans cheered for a few seconds, then let out a regretful gasp.

Li Kang intercepted the ball and sent a long pass!

The ball spun sharply, tracing an elegant arc in midair, precisely finding David Silva on the right flank.

What was David Silva's early nickname?

"Slow-version Messi"!

Yinniesita surged forward, trying to support Manchester City's midfield from the center.

Soon.

He was overtaken by the turning Casemiro on the ground.

On the other side,

David Silva trapped the ball with his chest.

He began to burst forward!

In an instant, he lost the best chance to break through.

Alves, William, and Thiago Silva surrounded him from different directions.

"Oh! If he were just a bit faster, he wouldn't be trapped in this desperate situation!"

"No strength, no speed, this ball is going to be lost!"

"Nice!"

"The Blue Moon's genius magician!"

"Slow-version Messi" is not a derogatory term.

Ability to control the ball and escape in tight spaces.

David Silva has reached perfection.

He is the redefiner of the attacking midfielder.

Time seemed to stand still.

David Silva nudged the ball with his left foot, then pulled it.

The motion was slow.

The rhythm was exquisite.

He happened to use his body twice in a row to separate the opponent from the ball.

Alves and William couldn't get a tackle in, so they just clung tightly.

At the moment the distance shrank.

A breakthrough path opened in the tight space!

David Silva pushed the ball diagonally with the outside of his left foot.

He sidestepped just enough to avoid Thiago's leg.

He turned, took a few steps, and pushed the ball forward.

By the time Alves and William came to their senses.

Where was there still a chance to grab the hem of the Blue Moon genius's garment!

Not fearing the flashy winger or the head-on attacker.

Just fear this kind of attacking midfielder who plays with special abilities!

The whole stadium erupted.

Dunga swung a fist at the air.

Spain's bench cheered.

Bosque pressed both hands down, signaling everyone to sit.

"Unbelievable! He defused a triple-team."

"The change in rhythm, the use of space!"

This is David Silva!

This is his style of play from his Valencia days! It's the style from the 2008 European Cup!

It's a pity that Spain's front line now has no Villa, no Džeko, no Agüero!

David Silva dribbled the ball to the vicinity of the left baseline.

Alves and Thiago quickly gave chase!

Pa!

The ball left the outside of the Blue Moon magician's left foot.

Like a scimitar, it sliced Brazil's defensive line to shreds.

As if they had gone through countless combinations.

At the end of the line.

The figure of Spain's number six appeared.

Li Kang.

He walked to the top of the penalty arc.

A natural, seamless pass-and-run combination.

Everyone stared with their mouths wide open.

No one would doubt: as long as Li Kang completes the shooting motion, a pass precise to the centimeter will deflect into the net.

It's not that easy.

And what about David Luiz!

His defensive anticipation and positioning are top-notch.

As long as he doesn't rush forward, he is the perfect center-back.

Unbelievable chemistry!

He's going to shoot...

Cazorla!

David Luiz lunged wildly at Li Kang!

Alisson quickly adjusted his position!

Pa!

The ball in both of their views suddenly disappeared.

Li Kang, calm and composed, touched the ball with one foot.

The bullfighter's blade pierced the left side of Brazil's small penalty area.

Cazorla miraculously appeared at the conclusion point.

Both feet balanced.

A light push.

The ball rolled into Brazil's net.

Alisson stood there dumbfounded.

Even if Van der Saar possessed him, he wouldn't have had time to defuse the danger in the blink of an eye.

1:0!

!

Juan Stadium erupted in celebration.

The bullfighter dynasty lifted the curtain on a revival!

Beautiful!

Too much chemistry!

The most familiar way to score: pass into the goal!

Spain's counterattack style is quite unconventional!

No speed, no impact, yet they make the utmost use of space and master changes in rhythm!

They pulled Brazil's defense down to their own speed! Then, with rich experience, they pried open the door!

Li Kang, he intercepted Brazil's attack and delivered a deadly pass!

In this friendly, Spain made up for the club's difficulty assembling a dream lineup!

Live broadcast room.

Bullet comments flew across the screen.

-【This is a friendly? Unbelievable chemistry!】

-【Take a good look, Li Mingdeng has a bunch of superstar teammates, becoming so awesome, playing so easily!】

-【Football is indeed a team sport, little Li Zi, don't go back to Lewokusen, what's the point of being a dad and mom? Prepare for the European Cup half a year early!】

-【After Li Mingdeng wins the European Cup and World Cup, let him retire from the national team; once these teammates grow old, Spain's new generation will all be pits.】

-【I seem to have seen the 2008 European Cup... Aragones' invincible Spain, not meaningless back-heel possession slowly probing for chances, but pursuing penetrating and progressive rhythm possession; the forward's role is to freeze the opponent, every midfielder has the right to shoot... that is the most glorious era of Yin Libyan football.】

-【Too bad Li Kang never met Aragones.】

-【Not meeting him is actually a good thing; the old sage's character is too stern, obstinate, and dictatorial, Li Kang might be held back in the defense.】

-【I think Bosque is better; his gaze at Li Kang is like looking at a grandson.】

At the edge of the field.

The Spanish staff were extremely excited.

Mininano jumped up excitedly.

It's not just because of the goal.

but seeing the hope of revival.

The opponent is, however, a five-star Brazil that's a broken ship with three rivets!

The combination of Thiago Silva and David Luiz, in front of us, is like a layer of water-soaked thin paper.

Bosque chuckled, stroking his little moustache: "It turns out we've gone astray; Li and Xavi are completely different meanings of the La Masia number 4 position. He is not the successor of any legend; he will write his own legend!"

On the other side.

Dunga's expression was complex.

After the daze ended, he angrily summoned Casemiro.

At this time, Panghu had just returned to Real Madrid, his fame wasn't big, and he didn't have much of a superstar aura.

Even having a superstar aura is useless.

Even superstars like Ronaldinho and Kaká, Dunga back then wouldn't give them a good look.

"Damn it, I told you to mark Li Kang, why are you moving as slow as a snail?"

"We shouldn't have conceded! You should have helped defend and restrained David Silva!"

Casemiro scratched the back of his head, pointing at the distant Yinniesita, and said helplessly: "Yinniesita's runs are more threatening... at that time, Li's passing and shooting angle was blocked by teammates, so he couldn't create a threat."

I have bitterness in my heart that I can't speak out!

Who is my partner at the club?

Modrić and Kroos.

You want me alone to block Li Kang and David Silva?

Hu'an Chang Stadium, thunderous applause.

Li Kang was tightly surrounded by his teammates.

As soon as he came on, he changed the situation.

"Li, Arsenal would suit you better."

"Li, if you came to Manchester City, you'd play even more easily."

"We, Atlético Madrid..."

Yinniesita quietly withdrew from the celebrating crowd.

There wasn't much celebrating.

The Spanish players then ran back to the centre circle.

Li Kang found that playing for the national team was very easy, without needing to think much himself.

In attack: Yinniesita, Cazorla, and David Silva—three master-level midfielders whose movement and pulling directly give the optimal solution for the finishing point.

In defense: Busquets' anticipation and positioning, and Koke's fierce interception—these two will let the supporting teammates easily win back the ball.

The game restarted at the centre circle.

Minyano on the sidelines frantically gestured.

Dunga's expression grew increasingly solemn.

What terrifying changes will Spain's next tactical adjustment bring?

Hulk kicked off, laying the ball across to Neymar.

Beep! Beep-beep~

The head referee then blew the whistle signaling the end of the first half.

"The first half, both sides played very... smoothly!"

"The referee team didn't add injury time; this is an unspoken rule of international friendlies."

Neymar stood with hands on hips, walking slowly off the pitch.

Spain's midfield control is too strong, and Dunga's tactics are overly rigid and conservative.

He basically had no chance to receive the ball in the front.

Just like Barcelona without Xavi.

And even in the national team, he doesn't have Messi beside him.

Thiago Silva strove to interact and communicate with his teammates on the back line.

He is still the era's "world's number one defender".

During Germany's 7-1 win over Brazil, he had an alibi.

Minyano kindly put a jacket on Li Kang, handing him water and a dry towel.

"Li, hurry and take a break."

Piqué pursed his lips: "Li didn't even sweat!"

Everyone stared, then came to their senses.

Li Kang came on as a substitute and, after just a few minutes, helped the team break open the situation.

Morata trotted along behind Bosque, constantly explaining: "Boss, I really have good chemistry with Li... the coaching staff should seize the chance to let us both be on the field at the same time..."

Brazil's locker room.

Dunga turned into a tyrant, angrily roaring:

"Whether it's a friendly or an important cup, I want you all to give your all!"

"The Centennial Copa América is upon us! We want to bring the trophy back to Brazil!"

"Spain's tiki-taka is dead!"

"They're just playing mysterious tricks!"

"In the second half, I don't want to see the defensive line lose position again!"

Our squad's strength won't lose to that group of Spanish veterans!

The Brazilian team members remained silent.

In terms of squad strength and age, we obviously have the advantage.

It's a shame to make a bunch of superstars play a 'commoner' style of play.

Argentina, the Essa training base.

Mascherano wore a vest, sat in front of the TV, and said sadly:

Spain is very likely to return to the pinnacle of Europe.

If we had a genius midfielder like Li Kang in the 2014 World Cup, the outcome would have been very different.

Rio, I'm already 32; I might not be able to accompany you to the 2018... 2022 World Cups...

Messi patted his old partner on the shoulder.

They didn't speak.

Portugal training base.

Nani walked into the locker room and asked doubtfully, 'You're hiding in here alone to watch the match?'

C Luo quickly pressed the remote and turned off the TV.

With a stern face, they said: 'I was just changing the channel.'