Madrid's airport was packed with reporters.
Cameras and microphones, like cannons, were aimed at the Rayo Vallecano players.
Everyone was waiting for that name—Lu Chuan.
"Lu Chuan! Lu Chuan!" reporters shouted his name, flashbulbs flashing like raindrops.
"What do you have to say about being selected for the Huaguo National Team?"
"What position do you think you can secure in the national team?"
"There are rumors that you might face some resistance in the national team. What's your take on that?"
Lu Chuan walked quickly, head down. Paco Jémez blocked his way, using his body to clear a path for him.
"Move aside!" Paco's voice was full of authority, "We are only focused on the match right now!"
Before boarding, Lu Chuan received messages from home. Blessings from his parents, encouragement from his teammates, and even threatening messages from numbers he didn't recognize.
"Be careful," Captain Trejo patted his shoulder, "No matter what happens, we've got your back."
As the plane took off, Lu Chuan looked through the window at Madrid below. The city lights gradually blurred, but the unease in his heart became clearer and clearer.
Three hours later, the plane landed at the small airport in Miranda de Ebro. The night in this small city was exceptionally quiet, far from the hustle and bustle of Madrid.
The pitch at Anduva Municipal Stadium was still in poor condition. Stepping onto this familiar ground, Lu Chuan's state of mind was completely different.
Last time he was here, he was struggling for survival in the mud; this time, he was here to unleash the coming storm in his heart.
"How do you feel?" Paco walked up to him.
"Good," Lu Chuan said only two words.
At the press conference, reporters' questions remained sharp. When someone asked about Lu Chuan's selection for the Huaguo team, Paco, uncharacteristically, responded assertively.
"Lu Chuan is one of the most talented young players I've ever seen. He deserves every honor."
Paco's tone was unusually firm, "I only care about his performance at Rayo Vallecano. As for the rest, I believe he can handle it. In my team, strength is the only pass."
These words caused a sensation among the reporters. Paco Jémez rarely publicly endorsed a player, so his words carried significant weight.
Before the match began, Lu Chuan quietly changed his jersey in the locker room. His teammates all knew the pressure he was under, and no one disturbed him.
"Tonight, we will show everyone what the Rayo Vallecano spirit is all about," Paco's voice echoed through the locker room.
"Mirandés thinks they can beat us at home; they are wrong. We will use our strength to tell them who the real strong ones are."
The moment he stepped out of the player tunnel, Lu Chuan felt immense pressure from the stands. Mirandés fans held up banners, and a tide of boos surged forward.
"Huaguo guy! Go back to your country!"
"You don't deserve to wear the national team jersey!"
Lu Chuan ignored these sounds; his attention was entirely focused on the pitch. The condition of the grass was still poor, but he already had experience from last time.
As the match began, Mirandés had clearly learned their lesson from last time. They used stronger physical challenges and more aggressive pressing to limit Lu Chuan.
In the 10th minute, while Lu Chuan was contesting a header in the penalty area, opposing center-back Odei Onaindia's elbow heavily struck his eyebrow.
Blood immediately gushed out, staining half of his face red.
"Boo!" A huge boo erupted from the home stands, as if this foul was a matter of course.
The referee only symbolically warned Onaindia, without showing a yellow card. Lu Chuan covered his wound, blood seeping through his fingers.
The team doctor rushed onto the field to stop the bleeding, bandaging the wound with gauze and a plaster. The smell of blood stimulated his nerves, and the pain tightened his nerves even further.
"Do you need a substitution?" the team doctor asked worriedly.
"No," Lu Chuan's voice was low, but his eyes were exceptionally bright.
He ran back onto the field, the gauze on his eyebrow already soaked with blood. Mirandés defender Onaindia subconsciously stepped back half a pace, avoiding his gaze.
The match became exceptionally intense. Both sides engaged in a fierce struggle in midfield, every tackle accompanied by physical collisions. Yellow cards flew out like raindrops, and the referee's whistle blew non-stop.
Lu Chuan moved like a ghost on the field, his blood-stained face making him look particularly fierce. His every sprint was full of destructive power, and every time he touched the ball, it sent shivers down his opponents' spines.
In the 38th minute of the first half, a passing error by Rayo Vallecano was seized by Mirandés.
Marcos André got a one-on-one opportunity on the counter-attack and calmly slotted the ball into the net past the goalkeeper.
1-0, Rayo Vallecano fell behind.
The home stands completely erupted, deafening cheers echoing throughout the stadium.
Mirandés players celebrated in a circle, their eyes full of triumph.
Lu Chuan stood at the center circle, the bloodstains already dry, forming dark red marks on his face. His breathing became rapid, and his chest heaved violently.
At halftime, the locker room was silent. Everyone had their heads down, the atmosphere suffocatingly oppressive.
Paco Jémez slowly walked in, his face calm, not roaring as usual.
He just quietly looked at each player, his gaze lingering on each face for a few seconds.
"Do you want to give up like this and go back to Madrid?" His voice was very soft, but it spread throughout the locker room.
"Do you deserve the fans who traveled so far?" he continued, "Do you deserve all your efforts along the way?"
The silence in the locker room grew heavier. Lu Chuan could hear his teammates' breathing, and he could feel the frustration in everyone's heart.
He stood up, the pain from his wound making his eyebrows furrow. He wiped the blood from his forehead, his voice hoarse but firm:
"Coach, teammates, give me the ball in the second half."
Everyone looked up at him, that blood-stained face filled with determination.
"I promise, we will win."
As soon as he finished speaking, Captain Trejo, who had been looking down, suddenly slammed his fist on the locker, making a dull thud, then stood up and roared: "That's right! Let's fucking do it in the second half!"
Before stepping out of the player tunnel, Lu Chuan silently thought to the system:
"System, is there a way for me to temporarily forget the pain and improve my physical confrontation?"
"Ding! Host's strong will detected. You can consume 300LP to exchange for 'Adrenaline Burst (Temporary)'. Effect: Pain sensation reduced by 50% for 30 minutes, Confrontation +3, but will enter a brief period of weakness afterwards."
"Exchange!"
Instantly, a warm current surged through his body. The pain from the wound significantly lessened, and his muscles felt as if new strength had been injected into them.
Lu Chuan felt his body become stronger, every muscle filled with explosive power.
When the second half began, Lu Chuan was like a changed man. His sprints were more ferocious, and his challenges were tougher. Every aerial duel sent shivers down his opponents' spines.
In the 55th minute, the opportunity arrived.
Isi Palazón crossed from the right, and Lu Chuan was sandwiched between two defenders in the penalty area.
Onaindia and Sergio González closed in from both sides, trying to push him out of the box.
With the boost from "Adrenaline Burst," Lu Chuan's physical confrontation ability was significantly enhanced.
He physically forced his way past the two defenders, creating space for himself to shoot.
Just as he was about to lose his balance and fall, he sent the ball into the bottom left corner of the goal with an incredible acrobatic volley!
1-1!
The net shook violently, and the entire stadium was in an uproar.
Rayo Vallecano fans in the away stand wildly waved their scarves, their cheers drowning out the boos of the home fans.
After scoring, Lu Chuan didn't celebrate. He picked up the ball from the net and quickly ran back to the center circle. His gaze swept over his opponents, over the stands, filled with an unyielding fighting spirit.
Mirandés coach Irola, on the sidelines, said in shock to her assistant:
"This kid's mental attributes… they're terrifying. He's like a beast that becomes even fiercer after being wounded!"
Lu Chuan placed the ball at the center circle and made a "bring it on" gesture to the Mirandés players.
The bloodstains on his face glittered under the lights, that wound like a medal, bearing witness to his tenacity.
The match was not over; the real battle had just begun.