A resounding chant still echoed through the Olympic Stadium.

"We never steal championships, and we will never be relegated to Serie B!"

Inter wouldn’t be relegated to Serie B, but right now, they truly needed a hero to help them seize the championship.

Ronaldo stood at the center circle once again. The sun was setting, its light bathing the entire pitch.

Ronaldo looked down, testing the turf with his boots, then turned his head to look up at the high stands.

He knew Chen Yu was watching him from the private box.

Taking a deep breath, Ronaldo charged forward.

Time flew by.

THUD! With a muffled groan, Ronaldo tumbled and slammed hard onto the ground, even getting a mouthful of grass.

Fortunately, the whistle blew.

The referee rushed over, pulled out a card, and pointed to the spot on the ground—all in one smooth motion.

A yellow card and a free kick.

Nesta, who had brought Ronaldo down, didn’t argue. He had earned that card.

After the second half began, Ronaldo played with exceptional vigor, constantly using his individual skill to assault Lazio’s defensive line.

If this had been the start of the first half, Ronaldo might have actually broken through and scored.

But during halftime, Little Cragnotti had come to the locker room with a direct order from the boss: they had to win and secure a spot in the Alliance Cup.

So now, Lazio’s mission was to protect their lead.

On that last play, Ronaldo had been just an inch away from entering the penalty area. Left with no choice, Nesta could only resort to a savage slide tackle.

"By the way, Ronnie, is Chen here?" Nesta asked casually as he stood nearby.

Ronaldo, who had been quite annoyed, found his anger dissipating when he heard this. He got up and complained with a hint of frustration, "Yeah, he’s here to watch me win the title. Just you wait, Alessandro. I’m definitely going to score."

With a light hmph, he turned and walked away.

Nesta gave a helpless, wry smile and turned to form the wall.

It was a free kick from about 20 yards out, and the position was dead center. There was a good chance of scoring.

Rekoba walked over. He usually took Inter’s free kicks.

"No, I’ll take it."

This time, however, Ronaldo stepped up to the ball himself.

"Ronnie, are you sure?" Rekoba frowned slightly. It wasn’t that he doubted Ronaldo’s ability with free kicks.

As one of the world’s top forwards, Ronaldo could certainly take a free kick, and he was more than competent at it.

’But at such a crucial moment, shouldn’t the one with better skill and a more delicate touch—me—take it? The chances of scoring would be higher. A curved shot would be better from this distance, and Ronaldo is known more for his powerful, thunderous shots.’

Ronaldo nodded, his expression serious. He had created this opportunity, and he had to be the one to seize it.

"Alright." Rekoba gritted his teeth and stepped aside.

The wall was set.

The entire Olympic Stadium fell into a dead silence.

Many Inter fans in the stands were too nervous to watch.

The Lazio fans, however, were much calmer, watching as if it were a show. They could accept either a win or a loss.

In the private box, Moratti rushed to the glass, so nervous he looked like he wanted to charge onto the field himself.

Chen Yu also stood up and looked at the large screen.

The view from the television broadcast was clearer than watching it directly.

The camera locked onto Ronaldo.

His hands hung at his sides as he stood before the ball, his expression more focused and serious than ever before.

There was even a murderous glint in his eyes.

Chen Yu had a sudden, strong intuition. ’This one’s going in.’

It was just like in the first round of the playoffs, the game where Ewing was suspended. Hardaway had that same look in his eyes—resolute, brimming with immense confidence, and radiating a killer instinct.

In that game, Hardaway had been unstoppable, dropping 27 points by halftime.

On the screen, Ronaldo took a deep breath and began his run-up.

He planted his left foot hard on the ground and swung his right leg. The wall was already starting to jump.

In that instant, Ronaldo twisted his body and viciously struck the ball with his right foot.

It was as if you could hear the muffled THUD even through the screen.

It was another one of his thunderbolts, but this time, the ball carried a distinct curve, just barely clearing the heads of the wall and heading straight for the far corner.

The ball was moving too fast. Peruzzi had only moved instinctively when the ball was already buried in the back of the net.

BOOM!

The entire stadium erupted.

"It’s in!"

In the box, Moratti leaped three feet in the air with excitement.

Chen Yu let out a roar too. ’I knew it was going in!’

On the pitch, Ronaldo had already spread his arms wide, running wild across the field.

His teammates chased after him, one by one, but none of them could catch up.

He suddenly ripped his shirt open, revealing the face that Chen Yu loved to complain about, and then roared at the sky.

The camera locked onto him.

’If nothing else, my face is probably going to be broadcast all over the world again.’

Chen Yu sighed silently. ’Oh, whatever. A goal is a goal.’

But this only tied the game. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

The 64th minute. There was still time.

On the sideline, Cooper came alive as well. He went to the edge of the pitch and yelled at his players to be steady, telling them their only hope of winning was to first shut down their opponents.

His philosophy was the 4-4-2, a defensive counter-attack.

It wasn’t that it was a bad strategy, but after watching most of the match, even Chen Yu could see it. ’If you’re going to play a defensive counter-attack, you at least need a sharp blade on the wings who can break through.’

But at this point, the quality of the star players was clearly more important.

It was clear that Inter’s midfield was still in disarray. They couldn’t control the tempo and were unable to feed the ball forward.

But Ronaldo became more active. He dropped back deeper and repeatedly launched long-distance raids.

His groin injury clearly couldn’t stop him anymore. He ran like lightning, frequently dribbling past two or three players at a time, only to be messily brought down by the defensive line led by Nesta.

"There’s still hope." Moratti nervously clenched his fists, staring intently at the pitch, glancing at the clock from time to time.

A draw wasn’t enough; they had to win.

In the 79th minute, Di Biagio sent a long pass forward. Vieri made a high-speed run, twisted and turned inside the penalty area, and suddenly fired off a shot on goal.

It was a tricky shot.

But at the last second, former Inter player Diego Simeone made a desperate, last-ditch save, flying in with a slide tackle right on the goal line to kick the ball away.

In the stands, countless Inter fans let out anguished groans of regret.

Moratti started cursing again, spit flying from his mouth.

’You just had to kill off your old club, didn’t you!’

Chen Yu swung his fist in frustration. ’I was just about to celebrate!’

But there was still hope.

Including stoppage time, there were at least 15 minutes left.

After Ronaldo’s free kick, Inter could clearly see their championship hopes revived. Their momentum surged, and they began to control the match.

So they still had a chance to win.

Lazio’s defensive line was outstanding, but with relentless attacks, it was bound to show a crack eventually.

On the pitch, Ronaldo was getting anxious, even tracking back to his own half to defend.

Inter hadn’t given up, and Lazio, having received their orders at halftime, was also getting serious, looking for a chance to secure the win.

It was Bohusky again, breaking through at high speed on the right wing. But against Inter’s reinforced left-side defense, he clearly couldn’t be as reckless as he was in the first half.

He pulled the ball back, cut inside, and sent in a cross.

The area in front of the goal was crowded, and it didn’t look like there was an opening. But Little Inzaghi, who received the ball, dragged it to his right, chipped it with his foot, and actually took a shot.

The ball sailed over a sea of heads, heading straight for the far corner.

"Don’t go in!"

In the box, Moratti let out a sharp cry, his heart nearly stopping.

Toldo dove for it, but it was clear he wouldn’t reach it.

CLANG.

The post saved the day! The ball bounced back.

Only then did Moratti let out a long breath and collapse back into his seat.

Chen Yu was startled as well. He glanced at Moratti out of the corner of his eye. ’This old guy isn’t going to have a heart attack, is he?’

But the next moment, he shot up as if reanimated.

"Counter-attack!"

Chen Yu immediately fixed his gaze on the pitch.

Saneidi cleared the ball with a big kick. At midfield, Ronaldo leaped into the air to win the ball. The moment he landed, he burst into motion, dribbling the ball toward the attacking half.

Cooper rushed to the sideline, his eyes wide with tension.

In the stands, countless Inter fans also rose to their feet, their eyes glued to the sprinting Ronaldo.

Lazio was pressing high up the pitch. In front of Ronaldo, only Nesta and Favalli remained.

Nesta was sprinting back at top speed. His collateral ligament had been torn, but after Chen Yu’s treatment, he had long since returned to full health, and his pace hadn’t diminished at all.

Seeing Ronaldo nearing the penalty area, Nesta no longer hesitated and went in for a slide tackle.

But Ronaldo, even while moving at high speed, managed to hook the ball to the left, just barely evading it.

Only Favalli was left in front of him.

Ronaldo started his signature step-overs. Just two of them, then a sudden push to the right, and he forced his way past Favalli, squeezing by his side.

A one-on-one!

In that moment, time seemed to stand still.

Countless thoughts flashed through Peruzzi’s mind in an instant. He instinctively chose to charge out.

"Go in, go in..."

Beside Chen Yu, Moratti clenched his fists, chanting the words like a broken record.

Chen Yu was just as tense. He could feel that after that long sprint, Ronaldo was starting to lose control of his body. But facing the onrushing Peruzzi, he managed a slightly strained touch to push the ball to the right, then stumbled as he leaped to avoid Peruzzi’s outstretched left foot, and pushed himself to catch up to the ball.

There was nothing in his way now.

With a simple push of the ball into the goal, Ronaldo could no longer control his body and tumbled headfirst onto the grass.

The moment he fell, he immediately lifted his head and looked toward the goal.

The ball was resting quietly inside the net.

It was in!

Ronaldo broke into a wide grin. From behind, Vieri and the others who had been chasing him down had already dogpiled on top of him, shouting and screaming.

The stands erupted.

In the private box, Moratti was like a child, excitedly jumping up and down with Chen Yu.

"A goal! We’ve won! We are the champions!" In his excitement, Moratti’s glasses even flew off, but he didn’t care in the slightest, just kept roaring.

In the abyss of despair, when Inter needed a hero to descend, Ronaldo appeared.

He was like a true Alien, arriving in a spaceship, piercing through the dark clouds to bring light to all the Inter fans.

On the pitch.

Ronaldo struggled to his feet, sprinted, and roared while pumping his fist, before once again lifting his jersey.

On the television broadcast, he roared ceaselessly at the sky. As he roared, tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes.

They burst forth uncontrollably, like a collapsing dam.

But at this moment, they were tears of pure joy.

In Brazil, in the Netherlands, in Spain, and as World Player of the Year—he had won many championships and received many honors.

But he had yet to win a single title in one of the Five Major Leagues.

Now, he had it!