Chapter 44: The Nemesis of a Lifetime

As the TSV 1860 Munich players erupted in excitement and the Schalke 04 squad lamented their conceded goal, while the home fans cheered and Wattley rambled on, Mo Mo began his next assault.

When Laut handed the ball to Mo Mo, everyone settled in to watch the unfolding play. But what did Mo Mo do? He launched into a sudden sprint, accelerating with the roar of a luxury sports car. The Schalke 04 midfielders were caught completely off guard—or perhaps simply unprepared. Mo Mo cut through them like a sharp surgical scalpel.

"Mo Mo!!! My god! What is he trying to do!?"

It was completely unexpected. Was he attempting to take on the entire defense alone? The Schalke 04 midfielders scrambled to track back, while their two central defenders stood like twin gates.

"Mo Mo!!!!!"

Chen Nu had no words left to describe the scene. Four players converged on him; an ordinary man would have panicked in such a situation. Yet Mo Mo remained calm, as if he weren't facing a four-man siege, but rather enjoying a leisurely cup of tea while watching television.

What to do? Facing four defenders closing in, a sharp glint flashed in Mo Mo's eyes. His temperament on the pitch was vastly different from his life off it. On the field, he was always composed.

"What will Mo Mo do!? Oh!!! A world-class strike!!! A world-class strike!!!"

Chen Nu’s voice grew hysterical. This was the angle every attacking player dreamed of. Why dribble past them? That was the only thought in Mo Mo's mind as he saw a Schalke 04 defender rushing forward to tackle.

Mo Mo completed a beautiful strike at the edge of the penalty area—a touch, a turn, and a world-class shot with the inside of his right foot. The ball sailed over the Schalke 04 defender. Manuel Neuer, positioned just outside the six-yard box, leaped high, but could only watch as the ball slammed into the absolute top corner of the net.

In an instant, the entire Allianz Arena erupted. Mo Mo lacked nothing now except a world-class goal to prove his finishing ability. Regardless of whether it was a fluke or pure luck, Mo Mo had delivered a world-class strike and completed a hat-trick in the Bundesliga!

The 1860 Munich fans were in a frenzy, chanting Mo Mo's name as the solitary Chinese flag in the stands fluttered incessantly. It was easy to foresee that more Chinese flags would appear in the future, and that more people would come to know Chinese players.

Every scout observing Mo Mo took out their notebooks and wrote the same thing: "Calm, composed, possesses a dangerous long shot."

Every reporter watching the match had already composed their headline for the next day, something along the lines of: "Lions Roar at Home; Mo Mo Nets Hat-Trick with Sensational World-Class Goal."

"Unbelievable, simply unbelievable! Mo Mo has struck a world-class goal. This is his eighth goal in the Bundesliga, putting him at the top of the scoring charts, with Elber in second with four."

There was a sense of pride in Chen Nu's voice. What a performance! Eight goals—double that of the second-place player.

Neuer looked dejected. Had his positioning not been so aggressive, he might have stopped the shot. Mo Mo, meanwhile, pumped his fist. It felt fantastic; with the help of his training system, he had lost count of how many shooting drills he performed each day.

In the 90th minute, 1860 Munich manager Pacult chose to substitute Mo Mo.

"This is a mark of respect. Listen to their cheers and applause!" Chen Nu said with emotion. Considering China's population, there were far too few Chinese players playing abroad, especially in top-tier leagues where they could actually score goals.

Mo Mo was now a phenomenon. Even if the label didn't quite fit yet, it would soon. Look at his current market value—it was enough to buy eight or ten Shao Jiayis.

As the referee blew the final whistle, 1860 Munich had defeated Schalke 04 with a score of 3-1. After the match, Mo Mo swapped jerseys with Neuer. Seeing Neuer's surprised expression, Mo Mo joked, "I see the potential for greatness in you. Keep this now; it might be worth a fortune one day."

Neuer knew it was a joke. He handed his jersey to Mo Mo but didn't ask for Mo Mo’s in return. "When I can keep you from scoring for an entire match, then you can give me your jersey."

Mo Mo was confused for a second, then understood. It was Neuer’s way of saying, "I lost because I conceded so many goals today, but I don't accept it. I'll give you my jersey now, but next time, if I can shut you down, I want yours."

Mo Mo’s lips curled into a smile. "Is that so? Then why do I get the feeling I’m going to end up with a lot of your jerseys?"

Neuer’s eyes were firm; he was at the age where he was ready to prove himself. "We shall see!"

They were about the same age, perhaps destined to be lifelong rivals—the future goalkeeping legend, Neuer.

Mo Mo followed his manager to the post-match press conference. Before it began, Wattley had a heated argument with the Chinese reporters—the same old issue, the matter of an apology. Wattley’s attitude was stubborn, and the Chinese reporters couldn't do much but silently grumble about his lack of class before joining the conference.

Just as the atmosphere seemed to settle, Wattley, looking indignant, stood up and asked, "First of all, congratulations on your rare hat-trick, your temporary lead in the scoring charts, and that world-class goal."

The room grew tense, though some reporters’ eyes lit up with excitement. Conflict? That meant a story.

"Thank you, but everyone already knows that, so there's no need to bring it up," Mo Mo replied politely, drawing a ripple of good-natured laughter.

But Wattley took it as an intolerable insult. "However, for such an outstanding player, you haven't received a call-up from your national team since the World Cup." He smirked. "Does this mean Chinese football is so strong, or is it a case of internal matters that... hmm, well, if it's an oversight by the national team, that would be a great pity."

Every Chinese person in the room knew this was a poisonous barb. Why did many Chinese players fail to thrive abroad? It was because of the excessive number of national team matches and the exhausting travel, which prevented them from maintaining form. Given that Chinese players weren't always considered top-tier, many clubs that initially considered signing them eventually gave up due to these "troubles."

Wattley's remark was truly venomous.