Chapter Twenty: China? Nemesis.

During the time Brasses was changing his pants, their head coach must have adjusted their defensive lineup; Mo Mo could clearly sense the difference. The back line now had structure, no longer swarming to mark a single player, but instead showing clear division of labor.

In the first half, the match reached the thirty-seventh minute with Hannover 96 having sixteen shots on goal, yet after the initial two goals, they gained nothing further. As time passed, Mo Mo felt the defensive line loosening.

By the forty-second minute, Duisburg’s defense performed admirably. Number 3, Delsek, made a powerful clearance; number 17, the Czech winger Jan Simak, chased after the ball, with left-back Bes close behind. In the end, the ball was firmly controlled by number 6, defender Link.

Link calmly played the ball back to number 2, defender Zulau, who then kicked it upfield—a mistake, for the midfield belonged to Duisburg. Number 26, Gouwan, claimed the ball.

In moments of urgency, habit asserts itself; people tend to curse in their native dialect. In that brief moment, Gouwan’s first action after getting the ball was to pass back to number 29, Niskov (the all-round midfielder) or number 21, Waters (the advanced playmaker).

Yet, as mentioned before, throughout the match, Mo Mo favored intercepting between these two; though not always able to completely shut them down, he could usually rely on anticipation and burst to win the ball.

This was why, except for the early surprise, Duisburg had never managed a proper attack—like trying to surf the web with a weak signal, constantly interrupted. Like reasoning with a drunk and expecting him to perform delicate tasks.

It was not that Duisburg’s coach lacked intellect or failed to see the flaw. He simply could not imagine that, with two playmakers, his team could still be neutralized.

In theory, dual playmakers are hard to shut down, but their tactics—41212, focusing on short passes and possession—left them vulnerable, especially since their positioning strictly followed the coach’s instructions.

All these factors created a perfect opportunity for Mo Mo, a flawless stage to showcase himself. In truth, this was the second division; in the Bundesliga, encountering midfield maestros who had the freedom to move and find space, Mo Mo would not have it so easy.

But regardless of the process, the result was that Mo Mo once again intercepted the ball upfield, making it difficult for Duisburg to mount a fluid attack. More often than not, they would lose possession immediately after gaining it.

“Mo Mo has the ball, but it’s not looking good—number 30, Grujic, has his sights set on him. Since Mo Mo’s second goal, Grujic has been marking him tightly.”

Grujic, number 30, may not be remarkable in the Bundesliga, but for Mo Mo, he was a formidable opponent. In over ten encounters, unless Mo Mo released the ball immediately, Grujic would intercept it more than ninety percent of the time.

But this time, Mo Mo did not pass the ball—partly because number 17, the Czech winger Jan Simak, hadn’t positioned himself yet, and partly because Grujic always made a show of dominance after each interception.

“I simply can’t tolerate it anymore,” Mo Mo told himself.

It wasn’t that he’d lost his composure; in fact, his mind was sharp. His composure rating of 18 was no joke.

Mo Mo had a realization: all the data in the game was dead. Players like Mo Mo, with only a technical rating of 6, would usually lose in one-on-one dribbles, but now he was flesh and blood.

He discovered that the numeric stats didn’t impact him much! To illustrate, it was like Zhang Wuji, cultivating the Nine Yang Manual to expel cold poison; without proper techniques, he possessed deep internal energy but nowhere to unleash it—until he learned the art of shifting the heavens.

Those stats didn’t matter much—just because his technical rating was 6, did that mean he couldn’t dribble past opponents? Was it only about technique? Did he rely on fancy tricks? No, he relied on his explosive power and agility.

Grujic was a decent opponent: strong, excellent stamina. Yet, after so many years in the second division, why hadn’t he been picked up by better teams? Mo Mo realized: his agility and footwork were lacking.

Mo Mo’s own technique was rough, but his speed was unmatched! This wasn’t something the game’s stats could show. Two players might run equally fast, but one can tap the ground twice per second, the other three times—this is the difference in frequency.

When Mo Mo feinted left with the ball, Grujic kept up; when Mo Mo shifted right, Grujic managed to follow, though barely. But when Mo Mo suddenly went left twice, then right, dragging the ball with his left foot past Grujic’s left inner side—

Then, in a sudden burst, Mo Mo feinted left again, dribbled past Grujic’s right side, hooked the ball with his right leg—Grujic’s mind realized the ball went left while Mo Mo went right, but his body couldn’t keep up. He wanted to close his legs, hook the ball, turn, spin—

But the result was inevitable: he failed at everything. Grujic twisted his hefty backside and fell to the ground, bewildered.

“Beautiful! Mo Mo has outmaneuvered Grujic. Once given space, Mo Mo always manages to exploit the defenders’ confusion with his speed and agility.”

Mo Mo’s dribbling surprised the Duisburg players. In previous encounters, he’d never gotten the better of them. The remaining defenders now focused their attention, but Mo Mo didn’t choose to drive straight ahead or storm the penalty area.

As Mo Mo moved to the flank, he inevitably drew the right-back Erke over, while Delsek, number 3, followed closely behind as backup. Grujic, number 30, also came over.

At this moment, a faint smile curved at Mo Mo’s lips. Brasses was watching him intently, slightly hunched. Right-back Erke was closing in, Delsek was poised behind Erke.

With a vision rating of 14, Mo Mo saw more than these narrow-sighted defenders. His imagination and composure, both rated 18, gave him brilliant ideas. Look—he acted on one now. Whether it would succeed, Mo Mo didn’t know, but he did it anyway.

“Number 37, Mo Mo crosses—toward Carl! Number 30, Carl—my god! Number 6, Ebers, can’t hold Carl! Carl heads the ball—goal! Beautiful! Absolutely beautiful! What is Mo Mo thinking?”

In that instant, Mo Mo spotted Carl at the far post and, like swinging a golf club, struck the ball hard with his right leg. The ball arced toward Carl.

In truth, the cross wasn’t perfect, as it was close to the post behind Brasses. If Brasses weren’t guarding that post facing Mo Mo, Mo Mo’s cross would have posed no threat at all—Brasses could have easily grabbed it.

But Brasses was fixated on Mo Mo as if he were a mortal enemy, which benefited Carl, who slipped past Ebers. Ebers tried to contest the header but ultimately failed; Carl scored with a header.

As the first half drew to a close, Mo Mo assisted Carl, who scored with a header. The score: 3–1.

“Recall before the match, Duisburg’s lead forwards, number 10, Kivinesk, number 13, Ebers, claimed they were China’s nemesis. I’d say they weren’t wrong, but the punctuation matters: China? Nemesis!”

Chen Nu’s tone made the Chinese fans watching at home exhale deeply. Yes! China is the nemesis—of your football.

End of page.