After equalizing, Lu Chuan fully activated his "Adrenaline Burst" mode.
He sprinted, pressed, and challenged tirelessly in the front field, like an enraged lion after being wounded.
The bloodstains on his forehead gleamed under the lights, that gruesome wound like a medal, bearing witness to his indomitable spirit.
Every touch of the ball was full of power and fury. Lu Chuan's gaze became exceptionally fierce, that beast-like aura sending shivers down the spines of Mirandés' defenders.
They could feel the danger emanating from this Chinese forward; he was no longer a player, but an avenger with the scent of blood.
Lu Chuan's fighting spirit infected all his teammates, and the entire Rayo Vallecano team's morale soared, beginning to fully suppress Mirandés.
Captain Trejo was in his element in the midfield; his passes became sharper, every ball full of threat.
Defensive midfielder Suárez followed closely, cutting off the opponent's attacking lines with fierce tackles.
The breakthroughs on both wings also became sharper. Álvaro García darted like lightning on the left wing, his speed leaving Mirandés' right-back struggling.
Isi Palazón was equally active on the right wing; his cuts inside and crosses created one opportunity after another for Lu Chuan.
Rayo Vallecano was like a re-energized machine, every component operating at high speed.
Their offensive surged towards Mirandés' goal like a tide, making the home team's defense precarious.
In the 72nd minute, the opportunity finally arrived. Álvaro García received a pass from Trejo on the left wing, and he used a beautiful change of direction to shake off his defender.
Facing the byline, he didn't hesitate, directly crossing the ball.
The ball traced a perfect arc in the air, heading straight for the center of the box. Lu Chuan leaped high, preparing to head the ball towards the goal.
His timing for the jump was perfect, his body stretched out in the air like a falcon preparing to hunt.
Just AS he was about to make contact with the ball, Mikel Vesga rushed in from behind.
This defensive midfielder clearly realized the danger; he extended both hands and shoved Lu Chuan hard in the back.
Lu Chuan lost his balance in the air and fell heavily inside the penalty area. His body collided violently with the grass, making a dull thud.
Pain shot through his back, but he quickly got up, his eyes filled with fury.
The referee's whistle blew, and he unhesitatingly pointed to the penalty spot.
It was an undeniable foul; Vesga's action was too obvious, even the home fans couldn't defend him.
Rayo Vallecano's players gathered in a circle, celebrating this precious penalty kick opportunity.
Trejo patted Lu Chuan's shoulder, his eyes full of trust.
Lu Chuan unhesitatingly stood before the penalty spot. He bent down to pick up the ball, wiping the dirt from it with his hand.
He placed the ball on the penalty spot, gently rotating it so the valve stem faced him. System? Talent? He only had one thing on his mind now: get this damn ball in.
Goalkeeper Limonens bounced back and forth on the goal line, trying to distract Lu Chuan. He waved his arms wildly, constantly shouting trash talk.
Lu Chuan ignored him, his attention fully focused on the ball.
The surrounding boos, cheers, and shouts were all blocked out. In this world, only he and the goal remained.
He slowly retreated a few steps, taking a deep breath. Blood boiled in his veins, his heart pounding like a war drum.
This was not just a penalty kick; this was his declaration of war against fate, his counterattack against all injustice.
The run-up began, Lu Chuan's steps firm and powerful.
Each step landed on the ground with a crisp sound. His gaze locked on the upper left corner of the goal; that was his target.
The moment his right foot connected with the ball, an astonishing force erupted.
He unleashed a powerful shot, blasting the ball fiercely into the upper left corner of the goal!
The ball flew out like a cannonball, leaving a white trajectory in the air. Limonens desperately tried to save it, but the ball's speed was too fast and the angle too tricky.
His fingertips barely touched the ball, but he couldn't change its trajectory.
"Thump!" The sound of the ball hitting the net was exceptionally crisp, like a heavy hammer striking everyone's heart.
2-1! Rayo Vallecano took the lead!
After scoring, Lu Chuan didn't hesitate. He rushed to the sideline and let out a thunderous roar at the camera!
This roar shook the entire stadium and every viewer in front of their television.
The camera locked onto him; on his face, stained with blood and sweat, veins bulged, and his eyes were bloodshot. At this moment, he was not a star, but a trapped beast that had broken free from all its chains.
All of Spain witnessed this scene through live television.
The commentators were so excited they were incoherent; they had never seen such a heart-stirring celebration.
Lu Chuan's roar echoed throughout the stadium, lingering for a long time. His gaze swept over the home team stands, where the boos had already grown faint.
His very existence was a declaration, a defiance of hardship.
This goal and this roar completely shattered Mirandés' psychological defenses.
The home team players' eyes were filled with despair; their movements became stiff, and their passes lost accuracy.
Mirandés' counterattack became chaotic and error-prone. Their formation began to loosen, and the players fought individually, losing their previous unity.
Rayo Vallecano seized the opportunity to launch an even fiercer offensive. Their coordination became more seamless, every pass full of threat.
Lu Chuan roamed the front field like a phantom, his runs making it impossible for opponents to defend.
In the 85th minute, Lu Chuan successfully intercepted the ball in the front field. Three Mirandés players simultaneously rushed towards him, trying to stop his attack with overwhelming numbers.
Facing the triple-team, Lu Chuan was not greedy. He glanced at the penalty area out of the corner of his eye and saw Isi Palazón in an unmarked position.
Just AS his opponents were about to close in, Lu Chuan used a brilliant back-heel flick to pass the ball to Isi Palazón.
This pass had a tricky angle and perfect timing, perfectly tearing apart the opponent's defense.
Isi Palazón received the ball without any hesitation; facing the rushing goalkeeper, he easily slotted it into the net. The sound of the ball rolling into the goal signaled the end of the match.
3-1! Rayo Vallecano sealed the victory!
The final whistle blew, and Rayo Vallecano, the biggest dark horse of the Copa del Rey, proudly advanced to the semifinals!
They had achieved the club's best cup performance in recent years, writing their own legend.
Lu Chuan collapsed onto the grass; the effects of "Adrenaline Burst" had worn off, and fatigue washed over him like a tide.
His teammates gathered around, lifting him high and tossing him into the air.
Rayo Vallecano fans in the away stands celebrated wildly, their songs echoing throughout the stadium. These fans, who had traveled from afar, witnessed an incredible comeback and the birth of a hero in their hearts.
After the match, the Spanish media was once again ignited. Marca's front-page headline was "The King's Roar!", while AS called the match "A One-Man War."
Fans on the Iberian Peninsula might soon forget the score of this match, but they would remember that night, remember the Chinese kid with a bleeding forehead, and that roar that tore through the night sky.
The system prompt sounded in his mind:
"Ding! A great comeback!"
"Match Rating: 9.8 (Man of the Match)"
"LP gained: 300 (Victory) + 200 (MOTM) + 100 (Goal) + 100 (Penalty) + 80 (Assist) = 780 LP!"
"Current LP balance: 1650 - 300 (Item) + 780 = 2130 LP"
In the locker room, Rayo Vallecano's players were immersed in the joy of victory. Champagne sprayed everywhere, and songs filled the entire room. Everyone's face was filled with excitement and pride.
Paco Jémez stood in the corner, quietly watching it all. His eyes held relief, pride, and anticipation for the future. This team had gone further than anyone could have imagined.
Lu Chuan sat in front of his locker, slowly taking off his jersey, which was soaked with sweat and blood.
The pain from his wound reminded him of how fierce the battle had just been. He wiped the sweat from his face with a towel; the blood had dried, leaving dark red marks on his skin.
His teammates gathered around him, their eyes filled with admiration.
They had witnessed the birth of a true warrior, witnessed how willpower could overcome all difficulties.
On the plane returning to Madrid, Lu Chuan leaned back in his seat, fatigue making his eyelids heavy.
The period of physical weakness had arrived; every muscle protested.
Just AS he was about to fall asleep, his phone vibrated. He opened his eyes and saw a message from Carlos,
The content was simple: "They're here. People from the Football Association have arrived in Madrid, specifically asking to see you."
Lu Chuan looked out at the night sky, dotted with stars, but he knew dark clouds were gathering. The real battle was just beginning.
He clenched his fist, that roar from the stadium still echoing in his ears.
No matter how dark the path ahead, he would not back down. This time, he would use his own way to smash through that invisible wall