57: Chapter 57 Killing someone by destroying their spirit! Yu Bai's taunts are on full display: I'll just teleport you to your defense zone, I know you're bad!

If Francis thought a few trash-talking lines or one malicious foul could scare Yu Bai and make him shrink back, he was dead wrong, and spectacularly so.

He severely underestimated this boy who had been struggling in a foreign land since he was 8 years old.

When he first came to England to play football, it was less about passion and more about escape—he didn't want to stay with either of his parents, and football became his only solace and outlet. At the London Colney Training Centre of Arsenal, what hadn't he seen? Racial slurs, locker room bullying, malicious intimidation from opponents, cold stares from coaches... all were daily occurrences.

When he was 12, he was cornered in a corner of the training ground by three 14-year-old white youth team players. The other side called him a "yellow-skinned pig" and told him to get back to China. Yu Bai didn't cry or make a scene; he simply silently pulled a short iron pipe he had hidden long ago from his backpack. The result of that "fight" was that all three sturdy boys, two years older than him, were left with cracked heads and bleeding, carried away. If it weren't for his family spending a huge sum to smooth things over, he would have been expelled from the Arsenal youth academy long ago, or even deported.

Thinking of scaring him with "I'll ruin you"?

Yu Bai met Francis's fierce gaze, feeling only amusement in his heart, and even a bit of nostalgia. Who would ruin whom? That was really not certain.

Away from home, the principle that "the kind are bullied by others, and the gentle are ridden by others" was something he had learned deeply through his fists and blood when he was 8.

...

After the argument, Yu Bai didn't shrink back; instead, it was as if a switch had been flipped.

The pain in his left ankle was still there, but the hesitation and doubt in his heart had been burned away by Francis's threat.

Just do it!

In the next ten minutes, Leicester City's left flank was buzzing.

Yu Bai took the ball on the wing three times in a row. Facing Francis's defense, he no longer stuck to cutting inside. He feigned an inside cut, used a change of rhythm to throw Francis off balance, then suddenly flicked the ball to the outside and forced a run down the byline!

"He's past him again!"

"Forcing the outside! He doesn't have a speed advantage, but his first step is really fast!"

"Cross!"

Three breakthroughs, three precise left-footed cut-back passes! The ball skimmed the grass, fast and flat, bypassing the near post, and flew toward the dangerous area near the penalty spot!

Unfortunately, it was either cleared thrillingly by the covering Bournemouth center-back, or the teammates making runs were a step too slow. Three golden opportunities, all missed out on a goal.

"Oh! Just a little bit!"

"This Passing is so comfortable!"

"The teammates' ability to eat the cake needs improvement!"

Francis was regretting it, cursing internally. Damn it, could it be that my few words actually maxed out this little monster's anger meter? He is now like a tireless perpetual motion machine, specifically targeting my side!

On the sidelines, Bournemouth's young manager Eddie Howe also frowned, unable to help but curse in a low voice.

Simon (Francis), why did you go provoke him for no reason? Wouldn't it have been enough to just defend well? Now it's good, this little ancestor is targeting your side and attacking it to death, the entire right-side defense pressure is immense!

...

In the 28th minute.

Mahrez on the right flank, after a beautiful Dribbling display, was brought down by a tactical foul from a Bournemouth midfielder.

The Algerian clutched his ankle, lying on the grass in pain.

The Leicester City team doctor rushed onto the pitch again with a medical bag.

Taking advantage of this dead ball, Claudio Ranieri waved his hands forcefully on the sidelines, shouting: "Yu! Come over!"

Yu Bai ran to the sidelines. Claudio Ranieri put his arm around his shoulder, back to the pitch, speaking quickly: "Yu, you've played for half an hour, how do you feel about Bournemouth's defense? How are they limiting you?"

Yu Bai thought for a moment and said truthfully: "Boss, they are very afraid of me cutting inside. As soon as I face the penalty area with the ball, their defensive midfielder and center-back move immediately to block my cutting route, and the right-back sticks to me, not giving me space to turn or accelerate easily. Besides forcing the byline, I can't find a particularly good way."

He could feel that Eddie Howe must have made specific defensive arrangements against him before the match.

Claudio Ranieri didn't respond directly to his analysis but changed the subject, seemingly going off-topic:

"You know, Yu, there are many wingers in the world. Some people like to hug the sideline, crossing the ball again and again like a machine. Others only know how to cut inside, cut inside, and cut inside again, as if the wing is just a runway for them to cut inside."

He turned his head and looked at Yu Bai with sharp eyes: "I give you absolute freedom, letting you 'be yourself' on the pitch. Do you think I, an old man, am a bit unprofessional, or even... too playful, like a senile old man?"

Yu Bai was shocked and quickly shook his head: "No, Boss, I never thought that!"

He was truly listening carefully, desperately thinking about the deep meaning behind Claudio Ranieri's words.

Claudio Ranieri stared into his eyes, that pair of eyes that had seen countless storms flashing with wisdom: "You are only 17, Yu. No one has the qualification to define what kind of player you should be. Not even yourself."

"You have played as a deep-lying playmaker, right midfielder, attacking midfielder, and now you are playing as a left winger. In the future, you might play other positions. You have infinite possibilities and plasticity."

Claudio Ranieri's voice had a bewitching power, "Eddie Howe's defensive system against 'wing-explosive Yu Bai' might limit a fixed version of you. But..."

He made an extremely exaggerated gesture, opening his arms as if embracing the entire stadium, with a confident, almost arrogant smile on his face:

"Can it limit a... Yu Bai who doesn't even know what he will do in the next second?"

"Can it limit a... Yu Bai who cannot be defined?"

"That's impossible!"

Claudio Ranieri waved his hand forcefully, decisive.

Just then, "Beep—!" Referee Swarbrick's whistle sounded, signaling the match to continue; Mahrez was fine after simple treatment.

Claudio Ranieri pushed Yu Bai's back hard, pushing him back onto the pitch, and shouted at his back with all his might:

"Remember! Giving you freedom is not me being lazy!"

"That is the best tactic I can formulate for you right now!"

"Yu! Don't easily define yourself!"

The voice cut through the noisy stadium and clearly entered Yu Bai's ears.

Yu Bai's steps as he ran back to his position paused slightly, as if a flash of lightning had split the fog of self-limitation in his mind.

That's right...

What kind of player am I?

Even I don't know yet, I'm still exploring.

Why do you think you can figure out my patterns and lock down my possibilities?

An indescribable realization and a more intense sense of excitement flooded his whole body.

...

In the 33rd minute.

Leicester City was patiently organizing their positional attack in the front court. After a few passes, the ball reached Mahrez on the right flank.

The Algerian magician immediately encountered a double-team from two Bournemouth players, the space compressed to a minimum.

Mahrez protected the ball, observing while trying to break free with gorgeous footwork. Just then, a blue shadow moved silently from the center diagonally, appearing in the gap in the flank area not far in front of Mahrez!

An excellent Passing option to relieve pressure!

Mahrez caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, his ankle flicked extremely subtly, and the ball obediently rolled into that gap.

It wasn't until the ball was passed that Mahrez clearly saw the person receiving it—it was Yu Bai! He had actually roamed from the left flank to the right-center position!

"Yu Bai! Switched positions!"

"Smart movement!"

Francis, who had been marking Yu Bai, subconsciously stayed in his left defensive zone, seeing this, he was shocked and hurriedly shouted to the center: "Watch out! That kid switched to the center! Mark him!"

Left center-back Steve Cook's position was critical; he was closest to Yu Bai. But watching Yu Bai steadily stop the ball, turn to face the goal, and then glancing at Vardy, who was tangling with Elphick in the penalty area and itching to move, he fell into a dilemma.

Challenge? Yu Bai had the ability to shoot from distance, and if he moved, the space behind him could very likely be exploited by Vardy.

Don't challenge? Let him handle the ball comfortably in this position?

In the split second of Cook's hesitation, Yu Bai had already finished turning, gently leading the ball forward with his left foot, advancing!

His Dribbling speed wasn't fast, even somewhat "leisurely," as if walking in his own backyard.

Bournemouth goalkeeper Artur Boruc's nerves were tense.

He had studied Yu Bai's game footage and knew that this kid had a thunderous long-range shot.

This distance was completely within his Shooting range!

Boruc lowered his center of gravity slightly, ready to save at any time.

Defensive midfielder Eunan OKane, who was carrying a yellow card, chased back at high speed from the side and rear, but he found himself in an awkward position—Yu Bai was using his body to block the position. If he rashly put his foot in, he would likely foul because he couldn't touch the ball, and the result would likely be a second yellow card, sent off directly!

He could only grit his teeth and run after Yu Bai, not daring to make a move.

Yu Bai, under the hesitation of Cook, the fear of Eunan OKane, and the nervous gaze of Boruc, slowly approached the area near the right side of the penalty area arc while Dribbling.

He even had time, while running, to quickly wink at Vardy in the penalty area, the corners of his mouth moving slightly.

"Insert behind Cook!" He conveyed the message with his eyes and lip-reading.

A top striker's instinct made Vardy understand instantly! He immediately made a reverse run, feigning to cut diagonally behind Elphick, then suddenly changed direction, sprinting with all his might, straight into the blind spot behind Cook!

"Vardy! Interception!"

"Danger!"

The attention of Cook and Elphick was instantly attracted by Vardy's threatening off-the-ball run! The two moved almost instinctively at the same time, wanting to close the door to prevent Vardy from receiving the ball. If they didn't cover, once Yu Bai's pass came over, Vardy would get a direct one-on-one!

At the moment when the entire Bournemouth defensive line was pulled by Vardy's sprint and appeared momentarily chaotic—

Yu Bai, who had been Dribbling at a constant speed, moved his right foot.

Not a blast, not a through ball.

It was the inside of his right foot, a light, chipped pass with intense spin!

The ball speed was fast, the arc exquisite, and the rotation intense. The ball drew a beautiful parabola, crossing over the head of Cook, who was rushing back and trying to clear with a Heading, but accurately avoiding the control range of goalkeeper Boruc.

The landing point of the ball was exactly in that narrow, dead zone near the six-yard line, between Cook/Elphick and goalkeeper Boruc, where no one could reach!

"Chip ball! Beautiful!"

"Great pass! No one can touch it!"

Vardy had already sprinted into position, but looking at the trajectory of the ball, his heart skipped a beat—is this kid Yu Bai treating me like a monkey?

Just when all Bournemouth defensive players (including Vardy) thought this ball was Yu Bai's Passing error—

A short but swift blue figure like a cheetah rushed in from outside the penalty area! It was NGolo Kanté! He had quietly moved up to this most lethal position at some point!

Kanté barely adjusted, pedaling with all his might while running, his body flying forward like a cannonball out of the chamber. At the moment the ball was about to fall, he made a move that left everyone stunned—

Not a Heading, not a volley!

But using the inertia of the forward rush, his whole body was almost parallel to the ground, his right foot's sole cleats facing forward, a ruthless "flying kick Shooting"!

"Bang!"

The ball was solidly "kicked" by Kanté's cleats, changed direction, and bounced into the goal at a faster speed!

Boruc didn't expect the shot from this position to come from Kanté, let alone this "unconventional" Shooting method!

He reached out in vain, the ball had already swept past his hand and slammed into the net behind him!

0:1! Leicester City leads away! Scorer—NGolo Kanté!

"Goooooooooooooal!!!"

"NGolo Kanté! An incredible way to score! An exquisite assist from Yu Bai!"

"This coordination! This run! This Shooting! Amazing!"

"Kanté: Didn't expect that, did you? I can score this kind of goal too!"

After scoring, Kanté was extremely excited, roaring as he rushed to the corner flag, performing a passionate slide! All Leicester City players rushed to him to celebrate!

Only Yu Bai.

He stood in place, not immediately joining the celebration, but slowly walked toward Francis, who was dumbfounded and hadn't recovered from conceding the goal.

Passing by Francis, Yu Bai stopped.

He turned his head and looked at this native English right-back, a smile appearing on his face that, to Francis, was extremely glaring, harmless, and even carried a bit of youthful shyness.

Then, Yu Bai used a clear volume that ensured Francis could hear, in a tone as calm as discussing the weather, began his "post-match analysis":

"Did you see that Passing line?"

"I passed in that direction on purpose."

"It's the area you are responsible for."

Yu Bai paused, the smile on his face deepened, but there was no temperature in his eyes.

"Because I knew long ago..."

"Your defensive positioning, especially the awareness of protecting the gap between the flank and the center-back..."

"Really, it's quite poor."

"Full of holes."

After speaking, he imitated Claudio Ranieri's action just now, helplessly shrugged, spread his hands, and used body language to perfectly express one meaning:

"Look, you saw the result. The goal went in. Is it my fault?"

Francis: "!!!"

The blood on his face faded instantly, his lips trembling, a surge of hot blood rushed to the top of his head, but was suppressed by the extreme humiliation and powerlessness.

He would rather Yu Bai point at his nose and curse, or call him "little cutie" again. This kind of "technical mockery" that didn't contain a single dirty word, but pressed his defensive ability, professionalism, and even intelligence onto the ground and rubbed them repeatedly...

It was so damn vicious!

It was so damn killing the heart!

Killing is just cutting off the head.

This is fucking killing someone, and then digging out their heart, putting it under a microscope to show you: Look, this is the reason why you are trash.

Francis stood in place, watching Yu Bai's back as he slowly ran toward the celebrating crowd after finishing speaking, feeling all his strength drained away, with only the sentence "Your defensive positioning... really, it's quite poor" looping in his ears.

Kid...

You are fucking killing... and then killing the heart...

Your conscience... won't it hurt?!