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"Ciro Immobile!! What a goal!!!"
"Immobile! A beautiful finish!"
"The Italy National Team takes the lead again, 2–1! Conte's side is still fighting with incredible determination!"
It was a life-or-death battle in Group H of the European Championship.
In the 67th minute, Italy regained the lead over Belgium, 2–1.
Lance wasn't surprised by the goal.
Italy's previous counterattacks had already exposed Belgium's defense several times. If not for Courtois making one save after another, the scoreline might have been even worse.
Unfortunately, the shaky back line could no longer contain the mounting pressure.
For a brief moment, Lance felt that this European Championship campaign might be over.
If it really doesn't work out, just focus on participating. Why risk everything in a national team match?
Before reporting for international duty, Atlético Madrid manager Diego Simeone had repeatedly reminded him through text messages:
"Be careful not to get injured. Protect yourself as much as possible out there."
Translated into plain language, it meant:
Don't push yourself too hard.
One of the things club managers feared most was seeing their star players suffer serious injuries during international matches and return unable to contribute to the club season.
Football history was filled with talented players whose careers had been derailed after a handful of national team appearances.
To be honest, Lance didn't have a particularly deep sense of belonging to Belgium. Risking his entire career for a foreign country seemed irrational.
But there was a saying often heard in China:
Since we're already here...
Since he was already on the pitch, with a chance to reach the quarterfinals, semifinals, or even the final, why not go for it?
There was no way Lance could simply give up.
And even if he wanted to, the influence of souls like Hyuga Kojiro and Isagi Yoichi would never allow it.
"Let's do this!"
"Hey!"
During a stoppage in play, Lance urgently called out to his teammates.
De Bruyne, Lukaku, Hazard, Nainggolan, and the others immediately turned toward him.
Seeing Lance making tactical gestures, they instantly understood.
Attack.
All-out attack.
"Belgium look uncomfortable right now. The holes in defense are making it difficult for the attackers to fully commit forward."
"That's right. Kompany's absence has had a huge impact."
Commentator Xu Yang couldn't help feeling a headache. If he were Belgium's manager, he wouldn't have an easy solution either.
The entire team was being restricted by Italy's 3-5-2 system.
Conte's side had formed a massive net around Belgium, and the sharp counterattacks hidden within it were deadly.
"At this point, Belgium can only rely on Lance's individual brilliance. Let's see whether he can combine with Hazard and De Bruyne in tight spaces."
As the commentator spoke, Belgium launched another attack.
Hazard was doing everything he could.
At the peak of his powers, the Premier League's dribbling king was nearly unstoppable.
He skipped past two Italian defenders in succession, but just as he approached the penalty area, Chiellini closed him down once more.
Italy's famous defensive chain immediately created a numerical advantage.
The longer Hazard held the ball, the more defenders converged on him.
Not daring to linger, he quickly slipped a pass into the center of the congestion.
"Careful!"
"Stop him!"
A black-shirted figure suddenly emerged to receive the ball.
The Italian defenders nearly had a heart attack.
They thought it was Lance.
But when the player turned, it wasn't the familiar black-haired Asian star.
It was a pale, ginger-haired midfielder.
"De Bruyne!"
De Bruyne had received the ball at the top of the box.
The Italians breathed a sigh of relief.
A De Bruyne touch in that position wasn't nearly as threatening as Lance.
But that immediately raised another question.
Where was Lance?
Before they could react, De Bruyne suddenly chipped the ball into the penalty area.
A diagonal pass toward the far post.
At first glance, nobody seemed to be there.
Bonucci tracked the flight of the ball and paid little attention to his surroundings.
Then he instinctively glanced over his shoulder.
His expression changed instantly.
"Lan—!"
The battle-hardened center-back looked as though he had seen a ghost.
Lance had somehow sprinted all the way to the far post.
Just before the ball crossed the byline, he leaped lightly and hooked it back into play with his right foot.
Manchester United wing-back Darmian immediately rushed over to block him.
But Lance's body suddenly swayed.
Instead of stopping, he spun around the outside of the byline.
"What?!"
Darmian looked down.
The ball was gone.
To him, it looked like magic.
But every spectator inside the stadium—and everyone watching on television—saw exactly what had happened.
As he controlled the ball, Lance had already flicked it through Darmian's legs with his heel.
Then, using a smooth one-footed spin, he glided around the defender along the byline.
A breathtaking piece of skill.
A masterpiece on the European Championship stage.
"Lance—!"
"This is Lance!"
"This is his signature dance!"
Even veteran Sky Sports commentator Martin Tyler nearly ran out of breath.
At major international tournaments like the European Championship or the World Cup, flashy individual displays were rare.
Yet Lance looked completely relaxed.
The composure required for such a moment was almost unbelievable.
But he wasn't finished.
His breakthrough along the byline immediately sent Italy's defense into panic mode.
Their first instinct was to cover Lukaku, Hazard, and De Bruyne.
No one imagined Lance would shoot from such an impossible angle.
Then their expressions changed.
Because Lance had chosen a Rabona.
A shot from virtually zero degrees.
Hardcore Shot!
Ever since acquiring the Nagi Seishiro template, he had rarely used this skill.
Now was the perfect moment.
A flawless dribble sequence had activated a scoring probability exceeding ninety-five percent.
All he had to do was trust it.
Bang!
The Rabona curled viciously through the air.
The ball skimmed past Buffon's fingertips.
Having faced Messi, Cristiano Ronaldo, Ronaldo Nazário, Ronaldinho, Kaká, Zidane, and countless legends throughout his career, Buffon believed he had seen every possible technique in football.
He had never imagined someone would attempt something this outrageous.
He turned back in despair.
The ball struck the inside of the far post.
Then bounced into the net.
"GOAL!!!"
"What a goal! Incredible!"
The commentator's voice exploded through the broadcast.
When Belgium found themselves cornered, it was Lance who stepped forward once again.
"Whether at Bayer Leverkusen, Atlético Madrid, or with Belgium, his role has never changed."
"He is the savior!"
"2–2! Lance drags Belgium level!"
Buffon dropped to his knees.
Immobile, Chiellini, Candreva, Bonucci, Darmian...
One Italian star after another sank to the turf.
Against a goal like that, even a reinforced-concrete defense would have been powerless.
On the touchline, Conte could only force a bitter smile.
Perhaps the ultimate answer isn't defense.
Perhaps it's attack.
No...
Perhaps it's simply the existence of a hero.
Lance had already surpassed the limits of tactics.
"The match is entering its final moments."
"Following Lance's equalizer, Italy have made two consecutive substitutions."
The commentators immediately understood Conte's intentions.
Italy no longer dared to attack.
They feared leaving even the smallest opening.
Instead, the wing-backs dropped deeper, forming a five-man defensive line and relying on numbers to contain Belgium.
Hazard and De Bruyne continued to perform brilliantly.
Unfortunately, Lukaku and Benteke offered little support up front.
Lukaku alone had missed three clear chances from inside the six-yard box.
Even the Sky Sports commentators didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"If my grandmother had those chances, she might have scored one. Somehow Lukaku hasn't!"
The match seemed destined for extra time.
Belgium's players were exhausted.
Even Hazard and De Bruyne were beginning to run on fumes.
If the game entered extra time, scoring would become even harder.
And if it reached penalties?
Italy's wealth of shootout experience could easily decide the outcome.
The clock ticked past ninety-two minutes.
Stoppage time was almost over.
As the display prepared to turn to the ninety-third minute, Lance suddenly drifted out of the penalty area.
The movement immediately caught De Bruyne's attention.
De Bruyne carried the ball diagonally, shaping as though he intended to pass left toward Hazard.
Instead, he produced a disguised backheel.
The pass slipped through substitute Marchisio's legs.
"Lance!!!"
Italy reacted half a step too late.
They hadn't expected Lance to abandon the box and appear directly on the passing lane.
Without taking a touch.
Without making any adjustment.
He turned and fired.
Direct Strike Shot!
Tiger Shot!
The signature techniques of Isagi Yoichi and Hyuga Kojiro combined into something extraordinary.
From twenty-six meters out, Lance unleashed a thunderous cannon.
BOOM!
Buffon's reflexes were legendary.
This time, even they weren't enough.
His vision blurred.
A split second later, he heard the net behind him explode.
It's over...
The goalkeeper's heart sank.
As he crashed to the ground, thunderous cheers erupted throughout Lyon Stadium.
"GOOOOOOAL!!!"
"GOAL!! WHAT A WORLDIE!"
"The winner! The winner!"
"In the final minute of the match, Lance completes his hat-trick!"
"He has won the game for Belgium!"
3–2!