Chapter 68: The Suit-Clad Thug
Berlin, Olympiastadion.
One hour remains before the kickoff of the European Cup final.
In the locker room, the atmosphere of the Portugal Team was as heavy as a lead plate. Although Head Coach Martinez had filled the tactical board with complex movement diagrams, everyone could see that his hands were trembling slightly.
Because for this match, they had lost one person.
Lin Yuan sat in his exclusive seat behind the substitutes' bench. Today, he wasn't wearing that familiar red jersey, but a well-tailored, almost solemn pure black suit. The collar of his white shirt was slightly open, revealing the hard and powerful lines of his collarbone. The pink scar on his brow bone, which hadn't fully healed, added a touch of ruthlessness to his formal attire.
He just sat there quietly, like a malevolent deity from the East.
"What's the matter? Why the long faces, everyone?"
Lin Yuan's voice broke the silence. He stood up, his leather shoes making a crisp sound against the floor.
Cristiano Ronaldo was bowing his head to tie his laces; he looked up upon hearing the voice.
"England is very strong," João Neves whispered. "Bellingham, Foden, Saka... and that Kane. They say this is England's best chance to win the title."
"Best chance?"
Lin Yuan walked to the center of the locker room. That suit didn't make him look refined; instead, because of the violence radiating from his bones, he looked more like a Mafia godfather ready to flip the table at a negotiation.
"Listen."
Lin Yuan looked around, his gaze like a knife: "I'll be watching you from the sidelines. If anyone dares to have weak legs on the pitch, I'll scream them to death from the touchline. If anyone dares to let that Harry Kane turn comfortably, I'll pin him against the wall during halftime."
He walked up to Palhinha—the defensive midfielder starting in his place today.
"João, you're shorter than me, but you have to be meaner than me." Lin Yuan patted Palhinha's cheek with considerable force. "Bellingham likes to drive forward with the ball. As soon as he dares to cross the halfway line, stick to him. You don't need to tackle; just make him miserable. Even if you have to use your teeth, keep him right there. Understand?"
Palhinha looked into Lin Yuan's fierce eyes and nodded hard: "Understood!"
"Good."
Lin Yuan turned and looked at Cristiano Ronaldo.
"Old man, lead them out." Lin Yuan helped Cristiano Ronaldo straighten his captain's armband. "I'm going to the touchline to be your cheerleader. Remember, don't let this suit I'm wearing go to waste."
...The match began.
Just as everyone expected, England showed terrifying dominance from the very first minute.
Bellingham strolled through the midfield with ease, while Rice acted like an iron gate, blocking Portugal's counter-attack routes. Foden and Saka were frantically tearing through Portugal's defense on the wings.
In the 20th minute, England besieged Portugal's penalty area. Kane got an opportunity near the penalty spot, but his powerful shot was heroically saved by Diogo Costa.
Portugal's goal was under constant threat.
On the touchline.
Lin Yuan wasn't sitting obediently on the bench. He stood at the edge of the technical area, hands in his trouser pockets, his posture as upright as a javelin.
Although he couldn't play, he was like a ghost on the sidelines, constantly watching everything on the pitch.
"Stick to him! Vitinha! Don't let him turn!"
When Foden received the ball on the flank, Lin Yuan suddenly let out a thunderous roar. The sound pierced through the clamor of Berlin's Olympiastadion and drilled accurately into Vitinha's ears.
Vitinha instinctively shuddered and immediately pounced like a mad dog, successfully interfering with Foden's cross.
"Did you see that?" Lineker exclaimed from the commentary booth. "Even though he's not wearing a jersey, he's still defending. That guy in the suit is scarier than the coach on the pitch."
35th minute.
The situation remained passive. The Portugal Team even struggled to pass the ball past the halfway line.
Bruno Fernandes had the ball in midfield and was double-teamed by Rice and Mainoo, looking a bit flustered.
"Don't pass back! Go forward! Look left!"
Lin Yuan roared again, pointing his finger toward the space on the left.
Bruno Fernandes followed the instruction almost instinctively, finding Leão on the left with a diagonal long ball. Leão used his speed to beat Walker and delivered a dangerous cross.
This was Portugal's most threatening attack of the first half.
Martinez, sitting on the bench, rubbed his nose awkwardly. He found that he seemed to have become a mere decoration; that suspended defensive midfielder was taking over the command of the match with his voice and presence.
The first half ended 0-0... In the second half, the situation became even more tense.
England began to get impatient. They had a star-studded lineup and the advantage in possession, but they just couldn't break through Portugal's goal.
Because the Portuguese players were playing like madmen today.
Palhinha had his brow bone split open in a challenge but continued fighting after a simple bandage; Dias blocked a certain goal from Saka with his body on the goal line; even Bernardo Silva completed two tackles in his own penalty area.
They were defending with their lives.
Because they knew that the tyrant in the suit was watching from the sidelines. If they dared to slack off for a second, that man would definitely charge onto the pitch and tear them apart.
75th minute.
The deadlock was finally broken.
Portugal got a counter-attacking opportunity.
Lin Yuan suddenly shouted from the touchline: "Cristiano! Run!!"
This roar was like a shot of adrenaline.
The 39-year-old Cristiano Ronaldo, whose physical stamina was at its limit, felt like he was 20 again the moment he heard Lin Yuan's voice. Gritting his teeth, he began a full-speed sprint.
This was not just a physical sprint, but a burning of the soul.
In midfield, Bruno Fernandes delivered a surgical through ball.
Cristiano Ronaldo was not offside!
He drove into the penalty area with the ball. Facing the rushing Pickford, Cristiano Ronaldo wasn't greedy for glory; he saw the figure following up at the far post.
A square pass!
The ball rolled to the top of the penalty arc.
Bruno Fernandes followed up and smashed the ball!
"Bang!"
The ball was like a cruise missile, heading straight for the top corner!
1-0!
Portugal takes the lead!
"GOOOOOOOOAL!!!"
Cristiano Ronaldo knelt on the ground, howling at the sky.
On the sidelines, Lin Yuan finally lost his cool expression at this moment. He pumped his fists, swinging them hard into the air. His expensive suit jacket was pulled tight by his movements, as if it might burst at any moment... The final fifteen minutes were a frantic onslaught from England.
Southgate brought on Palmer and Watkins in a desperate attempt to turn the tide.
But Portugal's defense had turned into a Great Wall of Steel.
93rd minute.
England's final corner kick opportunity. Even Pickford had rushed into the attacking half.
Lin Yuan stood on the touchline, cupping his hands like a megaphone, shouting at the top of his lungs: "Head it out! Whoever heads it out, I'll buy him a Ferrari!!"
The corner was taken.
Pepe, the 41-year-old veteran, leaped high among the crowd like an insurmountable mountain, heading the ball firmly out of the danger zone.
"Peep—peep—peep!!!"
The final whistle blew.
Portugal, Champions!
The stadium erupted. A red wave submerged Berlin's night sky.
Lin Yuan stood on the sidelines and let out a long breath. He straightened his tie, regaining his cold demeanor.
Cristiano Ronaldo was tossed into the air by his teammates.
At the award ceremony.
When Cristiano Ronaldo received the silver-glinting Henri Delaunay Trophy, he didn't lift it immediately.
He turned around and, behind the group of jersey-clad teammates, found that tall figure in the black suit.
Cristiano Ronaldo walked over and, without allowing any argument, pulled Lin Yuan to the very front, right next to the trophy.
"It's the rules," Lin Yuan frowned. "I didn't play."
"To hell with the rules."
Cristiano Ronaldo stuffed one handle of the trophy into Lin Yuan's hand—his uninjured right hand.
"Without you shouting from the touchline, we would have surrendered in the first half," Cristiano Ronaldo said, his eyes red and his voice choking up. "Half of this trophy belongs to you."
Under the gaze of the whole world, the jersey-wearing Cristiano Ronaldo and the suit-clad Lin Yuan together lifted the trophy that symbolized the kings of Europe.
Flashbulbs flashed frantically.
This scene became the most unique image in football history—one a legendary king about to take his final bow, the other a tyrant guard in formal wear with a murderous expression.
They collectively ruled this summer.