I Am Scouted by Real Madrid-Chapter 456 - 78: Beating the Grass to Scare the Tiger (Crucial Growth, Recommended Reading)

Chapter 456: Chapter 78: Beating the Grass to Scare the Tiger (Crucial Growth, Recommended Reading)

Also praying in his heart!

Shoot, Marcelo! You can do it, shoot!

Guardiola would rather let Marcelo take a shot that might score rather than have him make a reverse pass, allowing Chen Zhong to charge from the back and unleash a heavy cannon.

In Guardiola’s view, Chen Zhong’s heavy cannon was obviously more threatening!

At this moment, Marcelo was also facing a choice, striding forward, avoiding Puyol’s sliding tackle.

The excited factor was bouncing in his oxygen-deficient brain, and he felt extremely thrilled. Looking at the short distance ahead, facing the approaching Pique, Marcelo’s heart was pounding.

Get past him, get past him, get past him!

Then take the shot, become the team’s hero under the spotlight.

And then...

And then?

Marcelo’s originally excited state calmed down significantly, he slowed his steps, stared at the approaching Pique, then caught sight of the advancing Chen Zhong out of the corner of his eye.

Yes.

At that moment, Marcelo thought of Chen Zhong, the man who would help him open the bottle when he couldn’t.

"Marcelo!"

"Stop abruptly, cut the ball, slipped past Pique."

"Beautiful escape."

"Lob pass."

"Aimed at the middle."

"Chen Zhong!"

Everyone’s eyes followed the flying ball, which flew towards the edge of the penalty area, where Chen Zhong had already bent his knees, raised his head, and adjusted his posture for shooting.

Ziglinsky immediately moved in, attempting to intercept the ball the moment Chen Zhong touched it.

If he couldn’t, he’d at least give Chen Zhong some body opposition.

But Chen Zhong had no intention of stopping the ball at all.

At that moment, time seemed to freeze, with Chen Zhong’s body striking a very relaxed posture, and this stance looked different to different people; for instance, in Ibrahimovic’s eyes, it was a fierce side kick.

"Bang!"

A close encounter between the foot and the descending ball.

With a muffled sound, the ball instantly rebounded, whistling towards the goal.

Ziglinsky extended his strong thigh to intercept but was a step too slow, while Valverde stepped carefully, hands shielding his chest, pushing with force.

Even with gloves on, he could still feel the "pain" coming from his palms.

This was simply an unsaveable ball.

The ball flew upwards, clanging onto the crossbar, and Valverde made a quick second reaction, pushing the ball upwards again, flipping it over the net, granting Real Madrid a corner opportunity.

Real Madrid fans in the stands let out a regretful sound, as for a moment, they thought the ball had gone in, while Barcelona fans breathed a sigh of relief, with some even needing a sip of water to calm down.

Pellegrini on the sidelines looked at the scene with some regret, but also clapped vigorously to applaud the shot, while Guardiola closed his once slightly parted mouth, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Clearly, he had also had a scare from this shot.

"A very unfortunate volley shot."

"He chose the timing of the insertion very well, and the shot was very decisive."

"The force of the ball was also strong."

"The only pity is, the goalkeeper’s position was very good."

Chen Zhong was not overly fixated on the result, giving Marcelo a thumbs up, then turning to clap strongly, saying, "Don’t lose heart, keep going!"

"Just like that!"

"Again!"

The other Real Madrid players also composed themselves quickly, preparing for the corner, operating around Chen Zhong like emotionless machines.

In contrast to the Real Madrid players, who quickly settled their emotions, Barcelona players found it hard to calm down; even Puyol’s shouts couldn’t quickly bring them back to a normal state.

The match had barely started three minutes, and Real Madrid had nearly broken their goal, leaving them questioning if they could really win this match?

However, soon enough, Barcelona managed to shake off the slight unease inside their heads.

They focused intently on their defensive targets, with Ziglinsky marking the confident Chen Zhong, unease bubbling inside.

Marking Chen Zhong?

Me?

Having suffered defeat in a duel with Llorente, Ziglinsky underwent rigorous muscle growth training, gaining some strength.

Yet the scent of a lion is always intimidating, and a tiger’s roar can make a husky obedient; standing before Chen Zhong, Ziglinsky felt intensely uneasy.

He was no longer the "naive angel" thinking he’d achieve great things upon arriving in Barcelona; he knew that no one would pander to him here, everything would be scrutinized, and the 25 million Euro transfer fee wasn’t honor, with fans’ demands being extraordinarily stringent.

Everything made him feel the pressure.

And pressure doesn’t just make you better.

Chen Zhong sensed Ziglinsky’s unease, contemplating the use of the [Butcher], recollecting the energies from his youth team days, understanding that the Aura’s effectiveness would vary with the opponent’s perception of him.

In the youth team, he was the well-known "monster," like someone at school who’s known for getting along well and being tough, sparking a natural "caution" when actually encountering them.

And now, having honed himself in the first team for three years, though age still instinctively classified him as a "genius player" yet not recognized as a "top player," in some newcomers’ eyes, Chen Zhong began to gain "prestige."

A powerful hand placed on Ziglinsky’s shoulder, he heard a deep yet "threatening" voice say, "Don’t be nervous."

"The match is long."

"This won’t end quickly."

Ziglinsky felt a tremor throughout his body, looking at the man whose height was akin but whose muscles were much firmer, as fear spread in his heart.

Mark Chen Zhong!?

Me?

Nervousness made Ziglinsky’s breathing heavy, and at that moment, the corner was taken!

The ball drew an arc, dropping into the penalty area, under Guardiola’s eager eyes, under the expectant gazes of the Barcelona fans, to the inconceivable expressions of the teammates.

Ziglinsky, like a blade of grass bent by the wind, had no way against the toweringly rising Chen Zhong, only grabbing onto his shirt, his face showing vulnerability.

In this moment, Guardiola seemed to realize he had made a mistake.

Not everyone is Chen Zhong, able to take orders amidst crisis, withstand pressure, and stand out during crucial moments.

At least, Ziglinsky wasn’t at this very moment!

Guardiola seemed to foresee the ensuing scene, closing his eyes in some agony.

And as Chen Zhong effortlessly shook off Ziglinsky’s defense, confronting the ball, he swung his head forcefully.

"Bang!"

A dull thud resounded like a lion’s roar, like a bolt of thunder.

Bernabeu Stadium has no cap!

Because no one can be above them.

The ball, carrying immense force, seemingly with storm and thunder, blasted towards Barcelona’s goal.

With such thorough preparation and sufficient force, Valverde obviously could not reverse the outcome.

He roared within, having done everything possible, ending up only watching as the ball slammed into the net, seeing Chen Zhong land like a superhero, hearing the deafening cheers inside Santiago Bernabeu Stadium.

At this moment, everyone was chanting one person’s name.

"Chen Zhong, Chen Zhong, Chen Zhong!"

"He leaped high, completing a powerful header!"

"A beautiful header, an unstoppable header!"

"1:0"

"Only four minutes into the game, and Real Madrid took the lead with an early goal!"

"And the goal for Real Madrid was scored by the player from China, Chen Zhong."

"Beautiful! Beautiful!"

After scoring, Chen Zhong disdainfully glanced at the "stunned" Ziglinsky, placing his right hand beside his right ear, as if saying, louder, louder, I can’t hear!

The roar from Santiago Bernabeu Stadium seemed to want to overturn the whole stadium.

They watched your brash and dominating action with delight.

Cheering for you, exhilarated for you.