The God of Football Starts With Passive Skills

Chapter 571: Chapter 112: Conquering San Siro! Wang Shuo, Are You Even Human? Making History! The Birth of an Epoch-Making Goal

With his back to the goal, Wang Shuo was on the left side, just outside the penalty area. Right behind him was Thiago Silva.

Wang Shuo didn’t dare hesitate for a second. He gave Thiago Silva no chance to mark him closely. Suddenly, he took a step forward, knocking the ball horizontally toward the center with the inside of his right foot. He then spun around and cut inside at top speed.

Nesta and Van Bommel both charged toward Wang Shuo at the same time.

But Wang Shuo’s touch on the ball was perfect. His turn was fast, and his acceleration was even faster. He got to the ball a step ahead of them, planted his left foot, and immediately swung his right, unleashing a furious shot.

The ball rocketed from Wang Shuo’s foot, flying right between Thiago Silva and Nesta, heading straight for the right side of the goal.

But at the critical moment, Abbiati launched himself into a diving save, knocking the ball away from the goal with one hand.

The ball landed inside the penalty area. Wang Shuo immediately chased after it, but Nesta was there in time to block him.

Antonini rushed forward and cleared the ball, booting it out of the penalty area.

Wang Shuo grabbed his hair with both hands, letting out a frustrated groan.

’It was mainly because I had to angle the shot a little more toward the center to avoid Nesta’s block.’

’If I had aimed for the right post, Nesta probably would have blocked it with his foot.’

’Their defense is too tight!’

’It’s practically impenetrable!’

"Not bad, kid!"

Nesta’s chest was heaving as he gasped for breath, his face and hair drenched.

His jersey and shorts were completely covered in dirt and grass; not a single inch was clean.

He had given it his all, too.

"Thanks for the compliment!" Wang Shuo was fuming inside, but he forced a smile.

"But I get the feeling you guys are about done for."

Wang Shuo was talking about Nesta, Thiago Silva, and Van Bommel.

Among the three, only Thiago Silva was still in his prime.

After the 70-minute mark, Van Bommel’s performance had dropped off significantly. He was mostly just holding his position.

"I’m telling you, at this intensity, I can keep running for at least another half hour!"

With a sly grin, Wang Shuo flexed on them before turning and jogging back.

He left Nesta, Thiago Silva, and Van Bommel completely stunned.

’Another half hour?’

’That’s f*cking insane!’

The three of them had been run ragged by Wang Shuo all game, to the point of collapse.

And now he was saying he could go for another half hour?

"Is he always this tireless in the Bundesliga?" Thiago Silva asked Van Bommel, a hint of despair in his voice.

The latter gave an awkward smile. "He really is... a hell of a runner!"

"Just how much can he run?"

"I don’t know. I’ve just never seen him get a cramp or run out of stamina."

Nesta and Thiago Silva exchanged a look, both of their faces filled with despair.

’Is he even human?’

"Don’t worry, it’s the 89th minute," Nesta said, trying to encourage them. "Barring any surprises, there’ll be 3 minutes of stoppage time at most. Let’s just hang on!"

Thiago Silva and Van Bommel both nodded.

But as the three of them ran back into formation, the way they looked at Wang Shuo was filled with dread.

’Earth doesn’t welcome you! Go back to Mars!’

...

The situation wasn’t much better for Dortmund.

Although their players were younger, they had expended more energy. Their condition was arguably even worse than AC Milan’s.

Just as the fourth official on the sideline held up the board indicating 3 minutes of stoppage time, AC Milan made another attempt to pass the ball into Dortmund’s penalty area for Pato to chase.

Weidenfeller decisively rushed out from his goal and dove to smother the ball.

Unable to stop his momentum, Pato leaped over Weidenfeller, avoiding injury to the Dortmund goalkeeper.

As Weidenfeller got up, he glanced upfield.

Almost instinctively, the first person he saw was Wang Shuo.

Wang Shuo had his hand raised!

He was on the left side of the center circle, at the halfway line.

Weidenfeller glanced back at Pato.

The young forward, after all, still lacked some experience and hadn’t immediately pressured the goalkeeper.

So, without a second thought, Weidenfeller cradled the ball in one hand, took a running start, and punted it far downfield.

The ball soared from just outside the six-yard box toward the left side of the halfway line.

After raising his hand, Wang Shuo had been closely watching Weidenfeller’s every move.

When the goalkeeper punted the ball, he immediately locked onto its trajectory and predicted where it would land.

But this time, he was clever, deliberately positioning himself about two meters behind the anticipated landing spot.

The play developed so quickly that Thiago Silva didn’t have time to think. He immediately closed in on Wang Shuo, pressing tightly against him to challenge for the header.

In an instant, the ball was overhead.

Thiago Silva immediately realized something was wrong.

’It’s a trap!’

But just then, a force suddenly pushed from Wang Shuo’s back, causing Thiago Silva to instinctively push back.

After the brief jostle, Wang Shuo suddenly surged forward and leaped. He met the ball with a header, flicking it on behind him.

The ball was already traveling fast, and Wang Shuo’s flick sent it dropping directly behind the defensive line.

The moment he landed, Wang Shuo spun around and pumped his legs with all his might, driving himself forward.

In that instant, Wang Shuo accelerated to his top speed.

Thiago Silva had been delayed for a split second by their jostle. By the time he lunged forward to stop Wang Shuo from turning, he found that Wang Shuo had already shot past him like a cheetah.

All he felt was a gust of wind as the figure sped by.

’So fast!’

’At this stage of the game, how can he still have that kind of explosive power?’