Chapter 189: The Star Moon Corps' Defeat

The Spanish Invincible Armada blew apart the Turkish defense with two astonishing heavy cannons!

Just like the Battle of Lepanto back then!

Diego Costa, truly living up to his name as a divine striker!

Li Kang, the new helmsman of the Invincible Armada!

The two linked up, together sketching the most beautiful scene of the French summer!

He Wei was overcome with excitement.

Duan Xuan froze: he sensed that the match's course was very likely to turn into a massacre.

Diego Costa turned and rushed toward Li Kang.

The on-site Spanish cheering swelled ever grander as he raised his arm higher.

Lalalalala!!!

Indeed, Chelsea's divine striker is also a master at creating atmosphere.

He lifted Li Kang's chest badge and roared loudly at the stands.

Saúl and Koke also ran forward.

The two youngsters looked up in admiration.

"Li, if you come to Atlético, we'll surely thrash Barcelona and Real Madrid!"

"You're so iron-blooded!"

Iron-blooded?

Those two lackeys really know how to flatter—when has Li ever been iron-blooded?

Carvajal tugged at the corner of his mouth, not to be outdone: "Li, you have so much charisma..."

The livestream.

Comments flooded the screen.

-【Turkey isn't that weak, huh? What's going on, they just collapsed—a bunch of trash.】

-【Li Mingdeng's return to the national team is too handsome, adapting to all systems... no, it's mastering all systems.】

-【Let's deliver a dimensionality strike—rarely do national teams have enough internal training and cohesion time; Spain's squad players come in batches, ready to move in.】

-【What does 'move in with luggage' mean? It's plug-and-play; Atlético and Real Madrid are both strong, the two teams battling for the Champions League summit, but I suspect Bosque still has many tricks up his sleeve.】

-【Holy cow, his foot's heavy cannon through-ball would go backward! The passing precision is terrifying! I first thought he miskicked, but it was actually a spoon-fed pass to the feet.】

-【The helmsman of the Invincible Armada, a super core.】

-【Diego Costa is so fierce—why didn't he produce this effect with Xavi and Alonso in the 2014 World Cup?】

-【This guy's physique and impact are explosive, but his footwork is relatively rough, and his sense of timing is a step below peak Torres and peak Villa; he can't adapt to Spain's tiki-taka system, and he's not the most traditional pivot striker.】

-【If Morata could fuse with him... unstoppable!】

By the pitch.

Busquets and Yinniesita couldn't help but stand up, clapping and cheering.

"The feeling of winning from the bench is wonderful."

"Simeone's tactic is indeed effective against Turkey, innately restrictive, cutting straight to the weak point!"

Piqué pressed his lips shut, sat in the corner of the bench with his legs crossed, rubbing his palms on his shoes...

Morata took off his jacket, looking eager to try.

Mininano excitedly said: "Boss, the experiment succeeded; I seem to have seen the 13/14 season Atlético sweeping Europe—if only we had known to call up Gabi..."

Bosque patted his big belly, chuckling and shaking his head: "We can't put all our eggs in one basket."

On the other side.

Trim, suppressing his anger, waved to summon Turan and Calhanoglu.

Before he could even speak.

Calhanoglu turned his head again to closely watch Li Kang's gestures, then hurriedly said:

"Boss, they're going to press high next, trying to push our midfield to the flanks..."

"Shut up!"

The Turkish tyrant couldn't hold back: "Follow our familiar attacking pattern to find chances—there's plenty of time left, we can equalize! Don't think about nonsense; do you think you're Li? Want to sabotage Spain's tactical system?"

"Play through the middle! Cross runs and pulls, penetrate the ball in!"

Calhanoglu's expression was displeased.

The internal relations in the Turkish locker room are very delicate.

A few years ago, he was still having teammates point guns at his head...

Turan quickly stepped in to dissuade the two, gesturing for both sides to calm down.

His emotional intelligence isn't low; he's just simply bad.

The match restarted from the center circle.

Yilmaz kicked off, laying the ball off to Turan.

This top CSL striker still isn't quite used to the pace of international tournaments.

After a few quick passes, the ball reached Yin Nan's feet.

He is the true midfield core of the Star Moon Corps.

Although his passing and receiving skills are two levels inferior to Hakan's, he can hold onto the ball relatively well.

Turan cut inside to the middle.

Elgin made a forward run down the flank.

All Turkish midfield and forward players began to close the distance.

Turkey is going to show some of its own stuff!

They are very good at forming multiple points of mutual support in the attacking advance!

There's still plenty of time left in the match; stay calm, first get one goal back... oh no!

Yin Nan was dumbfounded.

He was just about to launch an attack.

Suddenly he noticed the Spanish team launching a fierce press in the midfield.

The opposing side's rough-looking bandit centre-forward was charging at him with murderous intent!

Diego Costa, this guy, also came out of the Atlético Madrid system, and after being coached by Mourinho at Chelsea, he became a super forward-defender!

Smack!

The Turkish midfielder decisively sent a diagonal pass to Calhanoglu, who had pulled away to create space!

Before receiving the ball, he already began observing the vertical positioning of Spain's defensive line.

Star Moon Legion, your core...

Wrong.

There was no suitable long-pass lane.

Li had already directed Ramos and San Jose, the two Spanish centre-backs, to complete a withdrawal?

Again, deep defence...

We need to first stretch the wing!

Too bad.

Calhanoglu's speed is too slow.

Samuel's sliding tackle followed closely!

The ball was kicked out of bounds.

Calhanoglu's whole body spun half a turn in the air, then he fell to the ground in pain.

"Is it a foul? Let's look at the slow-motion replay!"

"No problem!"

"The youngster Samuel from Atlético Madrid touched the ball first!"

"What a fierce interception!"

Calhanoglu struggled to get up.

He looked at Yin Nan with a wronged expression, spreading his hands to indicate: don't just focus on shifting the firepower, observe the teammates' receiving environment.

Turkish full-back Elgin quickly threw in the ball.

No time to waste, we're two goals behind.

"Elgin is a wide-attack prospect favoured by Inter Milan manager Mancini, but after returning to the national team he hardly gets chances to push forward!"

"Yin Nan quickly switched play, this time passing to Turan!"

Turan's ability is still much stronger than Calhanoglu's.

Facing the double-team of Koke and Cazorla.

After receiving the ball, he made a burst forward, trying to break through the encirclement; after completing the advancement task, he would then look for an outlet.

Ozil hurriedly came forward to support, but ran into the advancing Juanfran!

"Turan isn't fast, but his dribbling is strong!"

"Koke and Cazorla can't do anything about him for now!"

"Yilmaz is stretching the wing, Turan can now pass!"

Turan had hardships he couldn't speak of.

He lacked the ability to make a second burst of speed.

Koke and Cazorla are no pushovers; their hard-and-soft interception combination is flawless.

Especially Arsenal's two-footed balance master, with extremely steady centre of gravity and step frequency, can't be shaken off.

Barcelona's midfield was unknowingly forced out to the flank.

In attack-defense matchups, sometimes there truly is a counter; Turan isn't afraid of strong centre-backs in direct defence, but struggles to shake off technical players like Cazorla.

He could see he was about to give out, and out of the corner of his eye he spotted the forward teammate's figure.

Got it.

His body suddenly stopped, a flick and a sway.

He created a diagonal forward passing space.

Smack!

The ball had just left his right foot!

A black-haired figure silently appeared!

Li Kang.

"A pre-calculated interception timing! Perfect!"

"Oh no! Look at that trap, his left foot seems glued!"

"Atlético Madrid... Spain's counterattack is coming again!"

Riviera Stadium.

The Star Moon Legion fans burst out in waves of boos.

The bullfighter fans cheered and jumped for joy.

At the edge of the pitch.

Bosike smiled narrowly, clapping, and murmured:

"Ximengni's tactical approach is truly suited to dealing with teams good at short-pass penetration."

"Exactly the same as the pre-match setup."

"The back line implements a deep defensive zone, strangling Qia'erhan Aolu's long passes."

"Press Tulan to the flank, drive him into a narrow vision area to block his short passes, then use a contracting formation to create central pressure."

"Perfect flank-center combined pressure."

Mininyanuo listened, bewildered, and echoed: "Li Kang is too awesome!"

The other side.

Telimu calmly directed the defensive players.

"Fall back! Quickly pass back! Prevent that kid's long pass!"

"Mark their big center forward!"

Tuopaer and Baerta are short in stature.

"If Li Kang again delivers that incredibly precise long pass, the consequences are unimaginable!"

Li Kang had no long pass.

In God's perspective,

Diegesita was surrounded, with not only three defenders beside him but also Tufan lagging behind the Turkish formation.

Can he take on four alone?

Smack!

The ball left Li Kang's left foot.

It leapt toward the young Atlético Madrid player in the forty-meter zone.

Sawer had attracted domestic Spanish media attention since childhood, and he was very spirited during his time at Real Madrid's youth academy.

A super talent who could win the Golden Boot as a left back in the European Under-21 Championship...

He was actually turned into a midfield laborer by Ximengni.

At this time, Sawer's innate talent had not yet been completely worn away.

He pulled with his right foot, then flicked with his right foot.

He easily shook off the attempting tacklers Aowuz and Yin Nan.

The crowd erupted.

Spanish fans were preparing to offer enthusiastic applause...

Then.

He passed the ball back to Li Kang, who was making a forward run, his eyes showing admiration.

The counterattack opportunity... was thus wasted.

Bosike clutched his chest in pain, his face flushed with anger.

How these little guys...

They always have all sorts of flaws...

Mininyanuo couldn't help complaining: "What is he thinking? Passing back now isn't that wasting a good counterattack chance?"

Telimu was so anxious he almost jumped up.

He waved his arm vigorously, signaling his disciples to seize the opportunity to recover position!

Phew...

In the livestream,

Comments flew across the screen.

-【Died laughing, he still passed back!】

-【No problem, he is strictly executing Spain's tactics...】

-【Sawer suffered a serious kidney injury last year; his brain might also be slightly affected.】

Duanxuan and He Wei fell silent for a moment.

How to praise?

How can this be praised?

"Beautiful two-on-two!"

"Sawer plays with great flair!"

"Oh no, Turkey's defensive positioning is off! It's a bit difficult!"

Li Kang dribbled forward at high speed.

The shackle upgrade brought an 8-point speed boost, the effect is too obvious!

Turkey's frontcourt players quickly tracked back, all rushing at him.

The ball was brought past the midfield circle.

Li Kang kept feeling he had missed something.

In God's perspective.

Turkey's formation was rapidly taking shape.

A figure was active in the open space of the opponent's half.

Daweixierwa!

Smack.

The ball again left Li Kang's left foot.

David Silva stepped back a few steps.

The distance between them was very close.

It was just an ordinary short pass, as ordinary as could be.

"Spain is going to reorganize its attack."

"David Silva's speed is a bit slow."

"Eh? He got past him!"

The stadium's spotlights seemed to shine on a single Manchester City midfielder.

"Slow-version Messi!"

David Silva!

His frail body, agile dribbling, as if dancing on a tightrope!

A light sway, and he shook off Tu Nan's interception.

Trim roared wildly.

"Don't all go forward to intercept!"

"Watch out for his pass! Keep an eye on Diego Costa!"

The Turkish head coach's voice began to hoarsen.

Gunes and Barta quickly blocked!

Two defenders, one.

Useless.

Manchester City's midfield, although slow.

But he breezed past the defenses of countless powerhouse giants!

The two center backs from the Turkish Super League and First League simply couldn't stop him!

Yin Nan and Oguz quickly gave chase.

The Turkish back line vaguely formed a four-man double-team...

"This ball is going to be lost!"

"Still suffering from being too slow!"

"Wow!"

"He got past again!"

David Silva slightly eased his speed!

Relying on exquisite ball control, he twisted and turned in the tight space.

The Turkish defenders stood like stakes, watching the ball slip through the gap...

At the edge of the penalty box.

Unchallenged, David Silva leaned in and swung his leg!

Thud!

Accompanied by a crisp sound.

The ball left the ground!

An unbelievable arc left goalkeeper Babacan stunned like a wooden chicken.

How to predict it?

The shot direction is completely unfathomable!

The white net was flicked up again.

3:0!!!

The stadium erupted.

Carnage!

It's basically a massacre.

Duan Xuan and He Wei stared intently at the big screen.

How did the assist end up credited to Li Kang's head?

It was just a short pass from the midfield circle...

"A pass that broke through the defense!"

"An assist hat-trick!"

"The perfect performance of young Li Kang!"

"The connection of the two midfield magicians killed the match!"

At the sideline.

Mininyo waved his hands: "Boss, we seem to have overthought it; the Turkish defense is weak, seems no need to think."

Bosque's beard twitched as he muttered: "You're right, keep an eye on the time, it's about time to let Li rest."

Having said that, the old man sat back down on the coach's bench.

On the other side.

Trim kicked the water crate hard!

Humiliation!

Don't mention Spain's fall from grace.

Even the bullfighter's passing dynasty at its peak couldn't possibly tear through the Turkish defense so easily!

The upcoming match.

There were no concerns at all.

Saul and Koke were like two ferocious beasts, teaming up with Diego Costa and the advancing Juanfran to form a frantic pressing net in the front.

Hakan Calhanoglu and his teammates were suffering terribly.

Dead-ball situation.

Turan helplessly pounded the turf; he was done, completely done in this match.

The Turkish midfielder signed by Barcelona for €34 million plus €7 million in add-ons looked like a sleepwalker.

The chief referee was under great pressure too; he had to enforce the penalty based on the assistant referee's advice.

These little brats from Atlético Madrid are really testing the referee team!

Time passed minute by minute, second by second.

The Turkish side, which advocated attacking football, unconsciously retreated to defend in front of the penalty area.

Crushing!

They were completely crushed!

Without the Barcelona contingent, the Spanish team, spurred on by Li Kang, launched wave after wave of attacks like a tide.

Simple and brutal.

Straight for the seven-inch.

Damn, is this still beautiful football?

The twenty thousand Star Moon Legion fans in attendance felt despair.

Trim's clothes were disheveled, his face flushed,

We can't concede another goal.

Even if they only finish third in the group, under this European Cup's new rule, they still have a chance to qualify!

Catalonia Television.

Enrique's ears were buzzing.

The cheers on the screen seemed far away from him.

The score kept being updated again and again.

The final whistle blew.

The camera panned to the LED scoreboard hanging high in midair.

6-0!!!

Tragic case!

Massacre!

What's even more terrifying is that, aside from Saul and Koke, the other Spanish players barely expended any stamina.

Li Kang's jersey showed not a speck of dirt to the naked eye.

The host came to his senses.

"The Bullfighters Legion's return to peak begins!"

"After many years, the Spanish team without any Barcelona players unleashed a sharp and efficient simple attack, slaughtering the Star Moon Legion 6-0."

"Mr. Enrique.... Mr. Enrique? Mr. Enrique!"

That night.

Marca spread the news of triumph across the entire Yin Biliya Peninsula.

"Shaking France! Is he only worth 1 million euros?"