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Chapter 34 - Chapter 34: A Whimsical Backheel Assist! + Announcement

"Leverkusen, lacking Kießling, are finding it difficult to put any real pressure on the Wolfsburg defenders. Moreover, Son Heung-min's signature move—cutting inside—can't reach its full potential without a focal point to distract the center-backs."

"We've reached the 35th minute. Leverkusen's attacking tempo is slowing down, likely due to a dip in physical energy."

"Bellarabi is trying to beat Rodríguez again. Have these two formed a personal vendetta today?"

"A beautiful sliding tackle and retention by Rodríguez! His timing and distance control were flawless. He's up and immediately playing the ball forward down the line!"

Amidst He Wei's rising pitch, David Qin let the ball roll ahead of him, surging forward with blistering speed.

It was Donati again.

The young Italian was fuming. Although he played as a right-back, his idols were the likes of Antonio Cabrini and Paolo Maldini. Right now, fueled by adrenaline, he felt as if the souls of those legends had possessed him, inheriting the glorious defensive tradition of Italy.

Catching the brief gap between David's touches, he lunged forward with an explosive step, reaching out for the tackle!

David had a fascinating habit when carrying the ball: he kept the ball moving at a nearly constant speed, giving the impression that the ball wasn't being kicked along, but rather "carried" by his touch-foot. Simply put: wherever the foot went, the ball followed. Consequently, he could make a second touch faster and more accurately than any defender.

Snap! With a subtle flick of the ankle, David nudged the ball to the right while his core tensed, powering his body into a sprint toward the left.

The nearest stands erupted in gasps. Donati looked dazed, unsure whether to chase the ball or the man. That split-second of hesitation allowed David to ghost past like the wind, completing a perfect self-pass.

"Exquisite!"

"Today, the Italian right-back has become nothing more than a backdrop for David Qin's performance. Donati has absolutely no answer for him!"

"Except for a foul!"

In the blink of an eye, David crossed the thirty-meter line at full tilt, leaving the Leverkusen flank in a state of disarray. Lars Bender roared at Tin Jedvaj, gesturing for him to cede space to buy time—to wait for the defensive cover to arrive before pressing.

Jedvaj wanted to roll his eyes. Do you think what you're asking is easy? He wanted to contain without lunging, but that required the opponent to cooperate. In reality, the kid wasn't slowing down at all.

Is he cutting inside or going to the byline?

Jedvaj's thoughts were a tangled mess. He wanted nothing more than to simply level David to the ground. As the distance between them closed at a frantic pace, David's frame suddenly decelerated. Then, with his core arched, he abruptly burst toward the outside.

Alarm bells rang in Jedvaj's head. He scrambled to follow, desperate to block the path. Is another Rabona coming? he cursed inwardly. How does he play with so much flair?

Bernd Leno stood ready in goal, braced for impact. But David didn't repeat his previous trick. Instead, he planted his left foot forward and gave the ball a sharp, forceful knock with his right heel.

The ball zipped back along the path it had just traveled. A cold sweat broke out across the Leverkusen squad. No one had expected a backheel instead of a Rabona. This unpredictability left them with a profound sense of helplessness.

Even the Wolfsburg players were caught off guard, struggling to keep up with David's whimsical rhythm. Bas Dost couldn't control his momentum and missed the optimal window, forced into an awkward attempt. But then, he heard a familiar voice.

Trusting his teammate implicitly, Dost let himself collapse toward the side, making a desperate, scuffing contact that sent the ball rolling behind him. In that instant, Wolfsburg's No. 14 burst into the frame. He met the ball with a powerful, driving push.

Thump! The dull sound echoed like a war drum. The ball became a blade hugging the turf, stabbing precisely into the right side of the net. Leno, caught out, lunged desperately. But a second ago he had been bracing for the left; unless he had the speed of the Flash, he was never going to make it.

The moment the ball crossed the line, the Volkswagen Arena boiled over. A green-and-white wave surged through the stands.

"GOAL!"

"Another forced breakthrough on the left! But unlike last time, David Qin used a whimsical backheel pass to deceive every single Leverkusen player!"

"It's a shame Dost couldn't seize the primary chance, but thankfully De Bruyne arrived right on cue to finish with a 'ground-cutter' and double the lead!"

On the pitch, David had overshot his run, carried by momentum toward the advertising boards, nearly tumbling over. By the time he looked back, the ball was nestled in the net. He thought he had another assist. When he heard the stadium announcer, he shot a mock-resentful look at Dost.

The Dutchman looked innocent: "David, I had no idea you'd pass it like that. I thought it was going out of bounds."

"Never mind. A goal is a goal," David said, moving on. He ran to De Bruyne and vigorously ruffled the Belgian's blonde hair. Before he had transmigrated, he used to wonder if De Bruyne's hair would feel soft. Now he knew.

"David, watch yourself for the rest of the game. That guy doesn't look right," De Bruyne warned seriously, his celebration short-lived.

David glanced at Donati. The Italian's face wasn't red from exertion, but from a towering rage.

"You've humiliated him too much," Ricardo Rodríguez added, putting himself in Donati's shoes. "If I were a defender, I'd be tempted to slide-tackle you too." He felt a shiver of dread. On a football pitch, cases of malicious retaliation after being beaten were ten a penny. Many players had suffered severe, career-ending injuries from such tackles.

De Bruyne knew David was young and wanted to show off his technical prowess, but self-preservation was paramount. You only get one life; there's no point in regretting it after a snap.

"I understand," David nodded gravely, his guard up. Having transmigrated with the Ronaldinho template, he had no desire for his story to be titled: The Fallen Genius.

When the match resumed, the intensity spiked. It wasn't just Donati; the entire Leverkusen squad was fuming. From their perspective, they were being dominated by Wolfsburg and clowned on by a minor. Violent challenges became the leitmotif of the game. David stopped holding the ball too long, transforming himself into a quick-link station.

As the first half drew to a close, David played a wall-pass with Rodríguez, appearing ready to escape Donati once more. The Italian, eyes bloodshot, launched into a flying lunge, his studs visibly raised.

"Crap!" David abandoned the ball entirely, jumping straight up to narrowly evade the impact.

Upon landing, his temper flared. He grabbed Donati by the collar, shoving him back. "You damn Italian, you can't handle losing, can you?"

David might have the Ronaldinho template, but he didn't have the Brazilian's legendary temperament. He couldn't just smile and walk away from a malicious foul.

"Get lost! You're just a snot-nosed kid. That's not how you play football. Watch out, or you'll end up with a broken leg!" Donati sneered, slapping David's hand away.

"Say that again? Who's breaking whose leg? I'll make sure you don't walk out of this stadium!" Before David could even respond, his teammates swarmed in. Luiz Gustavo transformed into a giant tower, shielding David with a terrifying sense of security.

On the sidelines, the digital world was already melting down.

@WolfsburgWarrior: LMAO David just sent Donati back to the academy. That backheel was illegal!

@TacticalTortoise: RIP Donati's career. Two nutmegs and a backheel in 40 minutes? He's going to need therapy after this.

@Simp4Qin: If Donati touches our golden boy again I'm flying to Germany to throw hands personally. STUDS UP? ARE YOU JOKING?

@BayerBummer: We are getting absolutely cooked. Schmidt's "all attack" plan works great until a 17-year-old decides to become Ronaldinho.

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Hey everyone! To keep the engine running and give you guys more of David's journey faster, I've officially launched my P@treon

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As always, thank you for the support, the comments, and those precious power stones!

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