63: Chapter 63 Those who make bold statements often fall victim to serious injuries! Yu Bai: That's it?

"Ref—eree—!"

"Dean! Get out!"

"Ref! Use your eyes!"

King Power Stadium was submerged in a massive, furious wave of protest.

The anger of the Leicester City fans was almost tangible, threatening to set the stands ablaze.

Trailing at home, a golden opportunity stolen by a bad call, and their own rising star unfairly carded... all the pent-up frustration erupted at this moment.

Aston Villa's throw-in.

Alan Hutton, who had just come off the bench with a "special mission," briskly ran to the sideline and caught the ball tossed by a ball boy.

He threw the ball out seemingly casually, and Villa center-back Micah Richards launched a long ball forward, intending to clear it.

Yu Bai's position was shadow striker, but he habitually roamed the left flank.

He was walking with his head down, jogging slowly toward his own half, as if still sulking over that unwarranted yellow card.

Just then, a figure reeking of a mix of sweat and cologne accelerated past him, bumping his shoulder not too lightly, not too heavily.

It was Hutton.

As he ran past Yu Bai, he slightly turned his head and spoke in a low voice that only the two of them could hear, his tone fast, dripping with undisguised mockery and a condescending, lecture-like air:

"Kid from China, welcome to the real Premier League."

"Those little tricks of yours might work in the EFL League One."

"Next, I'll show you what real Premier League-level defending looks like."

He paused, even deliberately slowing down by half a step to run almost shoulder-to-shoulder with Yu Bai, wearing a smile that mixed contempt with the intent to "teach you a lesson," and added in a lowered voice:

"Honestly, I watched your highlights against Bournemouth."

"Not because you played that well..."

"But purely because that loser Francis is just too trash."

Finishing this, he gave a disdainful snort and prepared to accelerate forward.

Yu Bai stopped in his tracks.

He slowly turned his head to look at this rough-faced Scottish defender with a scar by his eye, carrying the air of a "Premier League veteran."

There was no anger on Yu Bai's face; instead, he curled the corner of his mouth, revealing a smile that looked extremely jarring to Hutton—sharp and mocking, characteristic of a youth.

"Oh? Is that so?"

Yu Bai's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly pierced through the surrounding noise, his tone as flat as if he were discussing the weather. "Old man."

Hutton's brow twitched violently.

Yu Bai looked him up and down, his gaze like he was evaluating a piece of flimsy old furniture, and continued:

"Are you warmed up? Got enough joint lubricant? In such a rush to talk big?"

"In movies, old geezers like you who start spouting nonsense the moment they appear..."

Yu Bai blinked, his smile deepening.

"Usually don't last ten minutes, and they get," he made a gesture of slapping someone hard, "their faces slapped swollen by the protagonist."

"You..."

Hutton was choked by this machine-gun-like, sharp, and precise retort, his face instantly turning red.

He was about to curse back when his peripheral vision caught his teammate's Passing lane in the front court.

Chance!

Hutton was an old hand after all; he forcibly suppressed his anger, wiped the ferocious look off his face, and suddenly executed a sharp change of direction, accelerating toward the gap in the Leicester City defensive line while raising his right hand high and shouting:

"Here! Pass it here!"

This sudden start and call for the ball were extremely abrupt, intended to catch the Leicester City defense off balance, and incidentally show off his "forward-run awareness" and "presence" in front of Yu Bai.

However...

Carlos Sánchez in midfield glanced at him, flicked his ankle, but didn't pass to him, instead sending the ball to Jack Grealish, who was further forward and posed a greater threat.

Hutton: "..."

His full-sprint momentum became instantly awkward, like someone throwing a full-force punch only to hit cotton.

Yu Bai, not far behind him, almost couldn't help but laugh out loud. This guy... was he being too dramatic? Did he really think he was the attacking core?

Grealish took the ball, once again showcasing his nimble Dribbling, leaning against Drinkwater at the edge of the penalty area, attempting to turn. But this time, a small blue figure stuck to him like a ghost—NGolo Kanté!

A precise tackle! A clean and crisp poke of the ball! Grealish lost possession, went down, and raised his hand to signal a foul by Kanté, but referee Mike Dean, perhaps feeling a bit "guilty" about the previous wrong call, held his hands out—no foul, play on!

"Counterattack!" Leicester City instantly switched from defense to offense!

Drinkwater controlled the ball poked by Kanté, didn't hesitate for a second, looked up at the front court, and sent a diagonal long pass to Riyad Mahrez, who was sprinting up the right flank!

The Algerian magician took the ball, faced two Villa defenders who had quickly retreated into position, and didn't try to force a dribble.

He alertly dribbled back two steps to create a bit of space, then, before the two opponents could close in, twisted his waist and abdomen, and with an extremely difficult but weirdly curved left-footed long pass, lofted the ball toward the relatively open area on the left flank!

"Switch! Look to the left!"

Yu Bai had already started moving the moment Grealish lost the ball.

He didn't blindly sprint toward the sideline but anticipated that Mahrez's pass might lack power and fall short.

He cleverly chose to retreat toward the center, while firmly using his body to block the position of Hutton, who wanted to cut in front to intercept!

"Thud!"

The ball arched through the air, and as Yu Bai expected, it landed a bit short. But Yu Bai's early movement and positioning gave him the advantage!

He cushioned the falling ball steadily with his chest, his movements fluid and seamless!

Hutton was blocked behind him and was furious.

Seeing that Yu Bai hadn't fully turned and was positioned near the center line, a nasty thought flashed through his mind: give him a fierce tactical foul! It would not only break up this counterattack but also teach this arrogant kid a "lesson"!

For tactical fouls near the center circle, referees usually only give a verbal warning, rarely a card.

He seized the moment Yu Bai seemed about to turn, lunged from the side-rear, dropped his shoulder, and prepared to deliver a hard hit to Yu Bai's waist.

However!

The very instant he started, Yu Bai, who had his back to him, seemed to have eyes in the back of his head; he performed an extremely subtle feint to the left with his body, while simultaneously gently pulling the ball to the right with his foot!

A back-to-goal turn feint that was realistic to the extreme!

Hutton's full-force collision completely missed!

Because he had used too much force, his body stumbled forward uncontrollably, and he almost fell over himself!

Meanwhile, Yu Bai had already completed his turn lightly, facing the attacking direction, and controlled the ball.

"Beautiful! He's past him!"

"Hutton got played!"

What is a "Premier League-level defender"? It's that the moment you get beaten, your first reaction isn't to be stunned, but to immediately use your body to block, to foul! The ball can pass, but the man absolutely cannot!

Hutton steadied himself, instantly swallowed by a sense of humiliation.

He roared like an enraged bull, lunged viciously at Yu Bai again, arms spread, intending to use his body to knock Yu Bai to the ground!

But Yu Bai still didn't choose to accelerate and break through. He even stopped.

He lightly stepped on the ball with his right foot, right past the center line. Then, he turned around leisurely, facing Hutton, who was charging over like a tank, with a provocative smirk on his face that said, "Come on then."

He was waiting.

Waiting for Hutton to come and tackle. Or rather, waiting for Hutton to come and foul.

"Damn it! Too arrogant!"

Hutton was so furious he was fuming; this was simply the greatest insult to his professional career! A 17-year-old kid, daring to step on the ball and provoke him in front of his face?!

A fierce light flashed in his eyes, his sprinting speed increased by another thirty percent, and he used almost all his strength to charge at Yu Bai... and the ball at his feet!

This time, he was determined: even if he got a card, he would make this kid learn a lesson!

Just in the split second before Hutton's foot was about to kick the ball and his body was about to collide with Yu Bai—Yu Bai's right foot, which was stepping on the ball, moved.

It wasn't a cut, it wasn't a pull.

It was the outside of his right foot, flicking the ball forward with extreme lightness and speed!

The ball rolled out obediently, perfectly and precisely Passing between Hutton's legs, which were slightly spread due to his full-speed sprint! A nutmeg!

"Whoa—!"

King Power Stadium instantly erupted in massive gasps and laughter!

Hutton felt a chill between his legs, his mind going blank. Nutmegged again?!

Extreme humiliation instantly caused him to lose his reason; almost instinctively, as his body lunged forward due to inertia, he forcibly twisted his waist and took a ferocious stride, attempting to use his thigh and body to block and collide with Yu Bai, who had already swept past his side!

This wasn't a tactical foul anymore; this was a malicious collision aimed entirely at the person!

"Thud—!!!"

A teeth-grinding, solid, and violent sound of muscle and bone colliding exploded near the center circle!

The two, like two high-speed cars, smashed into each other!

Yu Bai was sent flying sideways from the collision, rolled on the ground twice, clutched his right knee, curled up in pain, and buried his face in the turf.

And Hutton...

The moment he collided with Yu Bai, his expression shifted from ferocious to extreme pain and distortion!

He didn't fall down, but staggered back several steps, then with a "thud," dropped to one knee, clutched his left inner thigh tightly with both hands, and let out a shrill, inhuman wail!

"Ah—!!!"

The area he was clutching was one of the nightmares for football players—the adductor muscle (groin area)! That full-force, awkward twisting collision had put an unbearable strain on his adductor muscle, which was very likely torn!

"Physio! Quick!"

Both benches jumped up.

The Leicester City physio and the Villa physio rushed onto the pitch almost simultaneously, carrying their medical kits.

The Leicester City physio quickly checked Yu Bai. Yu Bai was grimacing in pain, but it was mainly from the impact and hard knocks; his knee, under the "Strengthened Knee" buff, was unharmed. He moved it a few times, and although painful, it seemed he could continue.

But the Villa physio touched Hutton's inner thigh, and seeing his pain-distorted expression, his heart sank.

After performing a few simple checks and asking questions, the Villa physio looked up, shook his head forcefully and helplessly at the anxious Villa manager, Tim Sherwood, on the sideline, and then made a clear "substitution" gesture.

Hutton could not continue the match.

"What the f*ck?!"

Tim Sherwood on the sideline saw the gesture and was struck by lightning; his eyes widened like copper bells, and his mouth opened wide enough to fit an egg.

He looked at the veteran Hutton, who was still kneeling on the ground wailing and being carried off on a stretcher by the physios, and then at the Chinese kid, who had already stood up limping, and although grimacing in pain, was clearly able to continue playing...

A sense of absurdity, mixed with rage, frustration, and disbelief, instantly overwhelmed his reason.

Alan Hutton!

My "ultimate weapon"!

I sent you on to lock him down, not to perform "how to get yourself sent off in the most tragic way"!

Is this the way you told me to "rest assured"?!

Sherwood felt the world go dark, as if ten thousand grass mud horses were galloping through his mind.