"Spain's number 13... it's Iniesta!"
"Iniesta bursts forward—slipping through like a little white mouse, completely unnoticed! France missed their mark!"
"Great first touch!"
"He shoots!"
"It's in!"
The stadium exploded.
A sea of red jerseys waved in celebration.
Torres was the first to grab Iniesta, shouting in excitement.
"GOAL!"
"A magical substitution! Iniesta scores less than two minutes after coming on!"
"Su Hang fires a quick pass from Midfielder—Long Pass Guidance! A perfect connection with Barcelona's young star Iniesta!"
"An unbelievable Real-Barça linkup!"
"3-2! Spain is now just one goal behind France!"
"Even after giving up two yellow cards, France still couldn't stop Su Hang!"
"Zidane has to take responsibility! If he hadn't taught Su Hang so much at the club, how could Su Hang deliver such a superhuman, eyes-in-the-back-of-his-head pass?"
On the sideline, Aragonés hugged Fabregas in excitement, then immediately signaled for Simón to cancel the substitution.
Fabregas stood there, confused.
"Keep playing like this for a bit. Who knows, maybe something good will happen."
Aragonés remained conservative to the end.
If this lineup could score, he truly didn't want to replace a defensive player like Senna with Fabregas.
The old coach's flaw was painfully obvious.
Two goals behind, he loses his nerve. One goal behind, and he refuses to take risks.
But at this moment, Aragonés wasn't the only one facing a difficult decision.
Su Hang was choosing as well.
Spain had momentum, and France was already arguing among themselves about whether to attack or defend.
This was the best chance.
He still had two Moment Cards left. But which one to use?
The strength of 19-year-old Messi needed no explanation.
And Gareth Bale in the Copa del Rey was hardly ordinary.
In the end...
Ding! "You have activated Gareth Bale 2014. Duration: ten minutes."
No denying it—Messi is insanely strong.
His dribbling, his cuts from the right, his roaming runs—his entire style is perfect for breaking down a packed defense.
And the best way to break a packed defense is to draw fouls, then rely on free kicks.
If Su Hang could just win two more free kicks, he could trigger the "Banana Free Kick".
Beckham + Messi? Rock solid.
But…
This is a comeback situation!
When you're trailing, no one chooses Messi over Bale.
Just like no one chooses Bale over Ronaldo.
And if he used a Messi card, a tie might be the absolute ceiling.
Because once France gets tied, they'll go full aggression.
The first forty-plus minutes already proved Spain cannot fight France in an all-out attack. They'll get pressed back and forced deep into their own half.
Rather than Messi dribbling past five players from the back just to reach midfield, Bale could carry the ball from backline to frontline in a single run.
Rather than Messi drawing foul after foul, Bale could sprint so fast they wouldn't even have the chance to foul him.
One solves the immediate crisis.
The other changes the entire flow.
Messi equals.
Bale wins.
Your choice?
And remember—this is the final.
Bale in a final is the real peak Bale.
Even Messi or Ronaldo wouldn't replace him.
In the 77th minute, Su Hang, powered by the Moment Card, drifted to the left half-space to receive the ball.
Xavi sent it his way.
Su Hang took it, faced Diarra, flicked it to the outside, and exploded forward.
Diarra didn't expect Su Hang to take the outside path and got beaten cleanly.
Everyone thought Diarra failed because of his angle—not because he lacked speed.
But when Sagnol charged toward the ball, Su Hang beat him to it, nudged the ball forward again, and blew past him as well. The stadium finally woke up.
Spanish fans rose to their feet.
Boom!
Su Hang whipped in a perfect cross.
Torres soared in the middle and powered a header toward goal.
If it had been Villa, he definitely wouldn't have reached it.
CLANG!
The ball smashed against the crossbar and bounced out.
Torres landed, clutching his head in disbelief.
If it had been Villa, he definitely would've scored.
Sagnol and Diarra exchanged uneasy glances, suddenly regretting how casually they'd picked up yellow cards earlier.
This version of Su Hang was far harder to defend than before.
At this stage of a match, players rarely get faster instead of slower.
Substitute Diarra was doing okay, but starter Sagnol was clearly struggling to keep up.
79th minute.
France finally couldn't hold back. Whenever they found a chance, they attacked.
Su Hang had dropped back into midfield early—he hadn't played as a striker in years.
When Ribéry tried to get past Mariano, Su Hang snuck up from behind and stole the ball cleanly.
Ribéry charged at him, ready to press and win it back.
He assumed Su Hang would shield the ball with his strength, so he widened his stance and raised his arms, preparing to absorb impact.
But Su Hang spun away instantly.
Pop!
A flick!
The ball rolled straight through Ribéry's legs.
Su Hang powered past him, and Ribéry's arm positioning couldn't even make contact.
"Oh! Brilliant tackle and dribble!"
"Su Hang nutmegs Ribéry!"
"Su Hang drives down the left! He's flying—his stamina is unreal!"
"Diarra steps up, cutting off his path."
"Su Hang slows... Stepovers! Two steps! A quick pair of fakes—and he bursts past!"
"Another clean beat! Diarra looks like a training cone out there!"
"I swear Su Hang's Electro-Shock Stepovers aren't even deceptive—Diarra just can't keep up."
"That's the second time Su Hang's blown past him."
"Now Su Hang has acres of space to run into."
Frustrated, Ribéry chased all the way back—but still couldn't catch him.
Su Hang surged along the left half-space.
With the Bale Card active and Torres' Acceleration Path pulling defenders, he was in the attacking third in a blink.
Sagnol tucked inside early, positioning himself near the top of the box.
Thuram, who normally covered that zone, slid toward the penalty spot.
A full defensive shift to the right.
Even if Su Hang beat Sagnol, Thuram would be there for the second challenge.
"Left!"
Zidane, also chasing back, recognized the danger the moment he saw Su Hang maintain full speed and shouted a warning.
But it was too late.
Su Hang nudged the ball, slightly turning his body to the right—a typical motion before cutting inside, signaling the next touch would go inward.
But when he actually touched the ball, he flicked it diagonally left instead.
Not a huge angle.
Maybe fifteen degrees.
Not complex footwork—but the ball speed was blistering.
Sagnol didn't get his leg out in time, and he never got another chance to intercept.
...
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