Su Hang had already covered 10,000 meters in this match.
He gained 10% stamina.
Raúl passed the ball.
As it arrived, Su Hang pivoted, carrying it slowly as he advanced, challenging Costinha.
Figo was the first to notice Su Hang's movement.
Figo's face went pale.
"Breakthrough! He's breaking through! Costinha, take him down!"
But—
Too late.
Thud!
In a stride that was half jog, half sprint, Su Hang suddenly exploded forward. One touch to push the ball ahead, and he burst straight past Costinha.
A "straight burst" sounded simple, but in reality it was anything but.
Most players had similar short-distance acceleration.
And Costinha even had a slightly shorter distance to cover.
Yet in a split second, Su Hang was already gone.
Costinha stared at Su Hang's fading back, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
Only Figo understood.
This was… the Vertical Burst!
It was the breakthrough trick Su Hang had once taught Figo—reviving Figo's career.
By "stealing one extra step," it solved Figo's declining explosiveness, restoring his dribbling to near-peak form.
And as Figo's teacher, Su Hang—now wielding Figo's abilities—could naturally reproduce this move with ease.
Even though it wasn't part of the original Figo Moment Card.
Su Hang's earlier wing runs had been sharp but far from goal.
This central breakthrough, however, was deadly.
Meira stepped up to stop him, but Su Hang brushed past with a Ronaldo-style heel flick.
Maniche and Carvalho rushed in next—one in front, one behind.
Su Hang half-turned, bracing Carvalho with his back and side. He then dragged the ball away from Maniche's lunge, spun again to lean into Maniche, and finally lifted the ball over Carvalho.
The Power Spin!
In that moment, Su Hang seemed possessed by Figo, Zidane, and Henry all at once.
Carvalho felt the fabric tearing in his grip—he couldn't even hold Su Hang by pulling the shirt anymore.
So he resorted to—
Thud!
Su Hang crashed to the turf.
Carvalho, still clutching fragments of Su Hang's torn jersey, committed a ruthless sliding tackle from behind.
Boooo!
The stadium erupted with fury.
"You trying to kill him?!"
"A tackle from behind? You want to cripple Su?!"
"I'll tear you apart!"
"You bastard! That's not football!"
"Red card! Give him a red card!"
"Penalty! That's a penalty for sure—Su Hang was already inside the box!"
Players from both sides rushed in, and a massive confrontation ignited.
Sergio Ramos bolted full-speed across the field, slamming straight into Carvalho.
His performance today might have dipped a bit, but when it came to fighting, Baby Ramos never backed down.
Cristiano Ronaldo stopped him, and the two began a head-to-head standoff.
Shoving flared up everywhere.
Security finally stepped in to restore order.
Sergio Ramos and Cristiano Ronaldo were both shown yellow cards.
Then the referee produced a red card for Carvalho.
His foul would likely earn him an extended suspension.
And the referee pointed to the spot.
Another penalty!
Only then did Spanish supporters erupt in triumphant cheers.
But Raúl was the first to sense something was wrong.
The confrontation had lasted unusually long—both sides seemed evenly matched in play and in the scuffle.
If Su Hang had gotten involved, the fight would have ended instantly.
No number of Portuguese players could have stopped him.
But Su Hang had stayed on the ground the entire time.
He never rose to break things up.
That wasn't right.
Su Hang wasn't the type to fake pain.
If he wasn't getting up, it meant he couldn't get up.
Sure enough, when Su Hang finally stood, Raúl saw the heaviness in his expression.
"Oh! Su Hang is up!"
"Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived at the decisive moment of this match."
"Su Hang's central breakthrough earns a penalty!"
"Can he convert it? He's already scored seven goals in this World Cup—he's basically locked up the Golden Boot."
"Unless Zidane scores four goals in the final, Su Hang will finish as the tournament's top scorer."
"And if he converts this one, that takes him to eight goals—matching Ronaldo's 2002 single-tournament record."
"It would be the first time since the 1970 World Cup that a player scores eight in one tournament!"
"And unlike Ronaldo, this is Su Hang's first World Cup!"
"He's frighteningly strong!"
"Other than fouling him or drawing red cards, Portugal has no way to stop him!"
While the commentators raved, Su Hang walked toward Raúl with the ball.
Raúl stared, stunned.
"Su, you…"
Su Hang shook his head, keeping his voice low.
"Raúl, my captain—you brought me onto the World Cup stage."
"This time, I need you to take me to the final."
A sharp pain throbbed through Su Hang's right ankle.
Carvalho's tackle had injured him.
Carvalho might not have meant to cause harm, but both the force and the desperation behind that challenge were enough to cripple someone.
Raúl wanted to refuse.
His era was over.
Ever since the match against Argentina, his World Cup had effectively ended.
El Capitán Raúl had already taken his bow.
But when he met Su Hang's eyes, he could only nod.
He knew that no one else could take this penalty.
This was a life-or-death penalty.
If it didn't go in, Spain would be eliminated.
Because their irreplaceable striker, Su Hang, could no longer continue.
The only reason Su Hang was still standing was to make everyone believe he could keep playing—crushing Portugal's morale and giving Raúl the strength to take the spot kick.
"What? What's this?" Queiroz froze. "Is Su Hang letting Raúl take the penalty?"
"No! No way! He can't do that!"
"And sure enough, Aragonés on the sideline is signaling that Su Hang should take it."
"But Su Hang shakes his head. He hands the ball to Raúl. Su Hang begins clapping—and signals his teammates to applaud Raúl as well!"
"The fans join in, following Su Hang's lead, cheering Raúl on!"
On the commentary platform, Tommy Smyth looked baffled.
"This isn't Su Hang's style. He might concede a penalty, but never at a moment like this."
"Su Hang once said that if a penalty decided the team's fate, he would always be the one to take it."