Then, there’s only one possibility.

He’s going to shoot!!!

Marcelo gritted his teeth and sped up his steps.

He felt like his whole body was leaning forward, his balance extremely unstable.

It seemed like he could fall at any moment.

But he didn’t have time to think about that.

Bam—

At the moment Marcelo slowed down and turned to block, Huang Kaiwen’s right foot had already swung behind the ball.

In an instant, the ball was in the penalty area, and Casillas instinctively dove towards the left side of the goal.

But in mid-air, he felt the ball rapidly enlarge in his view, much faster than he anticipated.

Whoosh—

Almost instantly, just a shadow passed by.

Casillas, still airborne, heard the ball brushing against the net.

Brief and swift.

Landed on the turf, Casillas only realized why it happened when he looked towards the goal; the perfectly round ball had changed shape.

"The wind is strong and the sail is fast, the wind turns and the oars are slow. Comparing worldly matters, not a hair’s breadth difference! Huang Kaiwen’s long shot precisely hit the junction of the post and crossbar, the theoretical absolute blind spot!"

"Can’t save it, really can’t save it! 177 km/h, speed and angle combined, this kind of shot is beyond what a typical goalkeeper can block, even Casillas was helpless despite his quick reflexes."

"Two goals, once again the connection between Huang Kaiwen and Kaka."

"Yes, last goal saw Kaka on the right and Huang Kaiwen on the left; this time Kaka’s on the left and Huang Kaiwen’s on the right. Their running between positions is numerous and complex, yet always just right; their level of understanding is genuinely high!"

[Courtois] indeed.

"Damn, Huang Kaiwen’s out of control, Casillas is asking the referee for a ball change. If that shot hit Casillas’ head, would his head explode on the spot?"

"Huang Kaiwen’s got precision, really, though if it hit, not sure how it’d end."

"Still unrepentant, huh? Then let it blow up again."

"Furong King exclusively sponsors this event."

"Brothers from D bar, come leave your mark."

"Damn, have they not finished blowing up yet?"

"No worries, after today, they’ll switch bars anyway, let them enjoy for now."

"Keep quiet and don’t let D bar and Mountain bar hear. Damn it, those bastards planning to blow up because of Huang Kaiwen."

"So we have some standing, we’re at least on the level with Chun and them."

Before the UEFA Champions League final, numerous bars organized an attack on [Courtois] bar, enabling a fourth-level comment but couldn’t block it, eventually allowing browsing without posting.

Even a week has passed, and there’s still occasional attacks.

The last large-scale attack was on Celtic bar facing fans from various soccer clubs.

...

Ramos sat on the stand with arms crossed, without a trace of a smile on his face.

Rossi and Platini?

Rui Costa and Baggio?

Maradona and Caniggia?

Kaka assisted Huang Kaiwen twice in a row.

He could already guess what the media would say post-match.

Some crap about the century’s partnership!

Damn it, I gave Kevin more assists.

Busquets, that bastard, ruined everything; Ramos felt the next national team match day should teach Busquets a lesson, showing that bastard not to mess with others’ lives!

After swapping balls, Casillas threw the ball to a midfield teammate.

He rubbed his temple with his gloves, a burning pain.

Only now did he feel the fear.

Among the many titles Huang Kaiwen holds, there’s a joking one — goalkeeper killer.

Although only Courtois and Joe Hart have felt it firsthand, Casillas believed if Huang Kaiwen wanted, he could absolutely kill with football!

Almost instantly, sweat soaked his back.

The greatest distance isn’t between life and death but Real Madrid and Barca.

Roving on the edge of life and death, he first thought not of his girlfriend Sara, but the curly-haired one who, despite his height, gave a sense of security.

A similar national team match day.

Some thought about meeting with strength, others about a summer love song.

Perhaps a thousand people see a thousand versions of Hamlet.

Mourinho feigned calm, heading back, misstepped and fell into the coach’s seat.

Faria quickly steadied Mourinho, asking worriedly: "Are you okay, Jose?"

"I’m fine, it’s not my fault, maybe Guardiola cursed me!"

Mourinho said.

He suspected Guardiola might actually do such a thing.

"Really, I knew he’s not good!"

Faria said indignantly.

"Whatever, we’re opponents now anyway."

Mourinho said after sitting down.

"If Luis Andre were here, at least he could use his little stick to show us some magic."

Faria muttered: "No idea if his prostate got better."

Mourinho instinctively tightened his legs, every time talking about this felt like a personal jab.

Mourinho suddenly slapped his thigh.

He thought of a possibility.

After Huang Kaiwen transferred to Chelsea, he suffered various injuries.

He even considered if Huang Kaiwen’s curse affected him.

But now thinking, could it be jealous Guardiola hired a Wizard to curse him?

Jealousy!

Pure jealousy!

Now finally cracked the case.

If not for the ongoing final, Mourinho wanted to go home and hire a bunch of Wizards to retaliate against Guardiola.