"Kaká!! This powerful, explosive shot has pierced through Barcelona's goal!"

"After Barcelona took the lead, Real Madrid responded with an equalizer in just five minutes. Suker's breakthrough on the wing was crucial—a 'fried meatball' move in the tightest of spaces. When Benzema failed to connect, Kaká seized the opportunity!"

"Real Madrid 1-1 Barcelona!"

The entire Santiago Bernabéu erupted.

Tens of thousands of Real Madrid fans chanted the names of Suker and Kaká.

Both Suker's breakthrough and Kaká's explosive shot were critical. They helped Real Madrid level the score.

On the sidelines, Faria leaped in excitement, while Mourinho punched the air fiercely. His lips were pressed tightly together, even turning pale. Clearly, this goal thrilled him, but the situation also made him extremely tense.

Guardiola covered his forehead. Real Madrid's counterattacking threat had always been there, but scoring at this moment shattered their chance to extend their lead.

For these two teams, once the scoreline widened, it would be difficult for the other to turn the game around. They both knew all too well how to secure victory.

Real Madrid's goal brought a sigh of relief to the fans. The score was level again, but the situation remained deadlocked.

Both sides refused to yield, constantly threatening each other's goal, making the match highly unpredictable. With key players like Suker and Messi taking turns to shine, the game became even more unpredictable.

"This match is so intense!"

Modrić watched the situation and couldn't help but comment, "Both sides are going all out to disrupt each other, and they also know how to target their opponents. Right now, it's like walking a tightrope—any slight carelessness or bad luck could tilt the balance, and the losing side would plummet !"

Giggs rubbed his temples and grinned, "Have you noticed? It's been 20 minutes, and neither team has made any real mistakes. Both goals came under these circumstances, meaning attacks can still be effective even without errors."

Ferdinand pointed at the TV, "If it were me, I would've fouled Suker during that breakthrough!"

"Suker's penalty conversion rate is high, and you might get a card," Modrić said.

Ferdinand retorted, "But Piqué hesitated, and that's how Real Madrid got that goal!"

Everyone shook their heads—it was easy to be wise after the event. Only the players on the field understood the situation at the time.

"Let's keep watching and see how they handle it!" Giggs said solemnly.

He hoped the match between Real Madrid and Barcelona would become even more intense, preferably with a few injuries, a couple of red cards in the Champions League, so Manchester United would have an easier time.

On the field, the match resumed.

After the equalizer, the game between Barcelona and Real Madrid became even fiercer. Perhaps both teams were eager to break the deadlock, so they pushed harder.

The midfield battles and duels intensified.

As key players for both sides, Suker and Messi became prime targets.

Suker was brought down by Alves.

Srna immediately retaliated with a fierce challenge!

Piqué elbowed Suker in the chest, and Pepe nearly kicked Messi in the head.

In just five minutes, three yellow cards were shown—to Piqué, Pepe, and Di María.

The referee had no choice but to stop the game. He called over both captains and made it clear that if the rough play continued, he would not hesitate to show red cards.

This was a stern warning.

It calmed both Real Madrid and Barcelona slightly.

"Kung fu football" was secondary; the most important thing now was the "title race."

Real Madrid didn't want to lose, so they would fight desperately.

Barcelona still hoped to keep their title chances alive and seek revenge, so they fought even harder.

Thump!

The ball slammed into Alves' chest and flew out of bounds.

Alves turned and glared angrily at Suker, looking like he was about to explode, but Piqué quickly pulled him away.

Suker gasped for breath and grinned.

Alves, since when did you become so patient? this isn't like you!

Suker had provoked him multiple times, but Alves had held back. Several humiliating nutmegs, and he still hadn't lost his cool.

However, Suker could sense that Alves was gradually losing his composure.

Once Alves got a card, Suker would have an easier time.

Peep! Peep!

The whistle blew abruptly.

Suker turned to see the referee signaling the end of the first half.

Suker was surprised. Time had flown by.

But when he looked at the big screen, aside from the score, the clock showed exactly 45 minutes.

"The first half has ended. Currently, Real Madrid and Barcelona are tied 1-1. This match has been fiercely contested. After both teams scored, neither managed to find another goal."

"After such an intense first half, we can look forward to what both teams will bring in the second half!"

In Real Madrid's locker room:

"Their passing tempo is so fast. Even with my stamina, I'm almost exhausted from chasing!" Srna complained.

"Their passing is indeed very quick, mostly one-touch passes. Especially when Messi drops back, he forms a triangle with Xavi and Iniesta. That's the foundation of their midfield control!" Alonso said, pursing his lips. "But it's hard for us to directly threaten them. Stamina consumption is one thing..."

"Let's keep pushing in the second half!" Suker suddenly interjected.

Everyone turned to look at him. Suker was stretching barefoot, loosening up his body.

"In the second half, pass the ball ahead of me, preferably lobbing it behind Alves. I swear I'll get him carded today!"

Kaká said, "If Alves gets a card, Barcelona will substitute him."

"Let them substitute!" Suker grinned fiercely. "If they sub him off, it'll be even easier for me to dribble past!"

Mourinho walked into the locker room. He had overheard Suker's words.

"In the second half, focus attacks on the left wing. The whole team will create opportunities for Suker!" Mourinho said solemnly.

Train an army for a thousand days, use it in one battle!

To keep Suker in top form, Mourinho had accommodated him all season, giving him rest, providing tactical resources, ensuring he played comfortably and happily.

All of it was for this moment!

The season was nearing its end!

Every team was bringing out their best, and Mourinho was no longer holding back. Real Madrid's ultimate weapon had always been Suker.

"For the first 15 minutes of the second half, maintain the high press. Make the left wing our main attacking channel. Kaká and Benzema will follow up, and both of you will help Suker share some defensive duties."

Kaká and Benzema immediately nodded.

Mourinho continued, "After 15 minutes, the whole team will drop back and switch to a low press. Benzema will come off, and Suker will move to the center forward position."

Here, Mourinho said sternly, "Suker, I want you to guarantee that every counterattack, even if it doesn't result in a goal, must hit the target!"

Suker responded loudly, "I guarantee I'll follow orders!"

After outlining the tactics, Mourinho moved to a corner. Assistant coach Faria approached and asked,

"Relying solely on Suker? Is that really feasible?"

Mourinho turned with a strange expression. "Did you not pay attention last season?"

"Last season?" Faria was puzzled.

Mourinho explained, "Last season, Suker was Real Madrid's sole attacking core. The team relied heavily on his offense, which put immense pressure on him. Yet, under those circumstances, Suker still led the team to a double victory over Barcelona. This season, I haven't put that much pressure on Suker. So far, I've let him play comfortably. But from now on, Suker needs to step up!"

"This is the right time, the right moment to unleash him!"

Mourinho narrowed his eyes. "A fully unleashed Suker will completely overwhelm Barcelona's defense!"

Mourinho didn't know that even without this, Suker could maintain his peak condition.

"Suker is dribbling and breaking through in the front field! Good heavens, his speed is incredible! Change of direction~~~ Oh~~ How can his body handle such sharp turns at this speed!"

It can handle it!

Suker twisted his knees, abruptly changed direction, and sprinted toward the other side.

"Stop him!!"

"Go! Go!!" Puyol shouted.

Watching Suker charge toward the penalty area, he felt his heart racing wildly. It was like a tiger was charging straight at him.

Thump!

Busquets grabbed Suker, stretching his jersey to its limit. This slowed Suker down slightly.

"Let go!"

Suker struggled fiercely!

At that moment, Alves rushed at Suker from the side.

While being held back, Suker executed a pullback to evade Alves' tackle, then slammed his back into Busquets.

Busquets grunted and released his grip. Suker accelerated again.

"He broke free!! Oh my god!! Suker!!!"

Gonzalez clutched his head, feeling chills down his spine. This kind of unstoppable momentum was something he had only seen in that "alien" player.

In an era where tackles from behind rarely drew red cards, the "alien" was called that precisely because of his astonishing physicality.

But now, Suker seemed to transcend time, as if possessed by the spirit of that alien.

Thump!!

Suker took a low shot.

The ball skimmed along the ground. Puyol threw himself at it, barely deflecting it and sending it slightly off course, out for a corner.

"Ah~~~"

Suker rubbed his head in frustration.

So close!

Damn Puyol.

Puyol sat on the ground, turning to look at Suker with fear.

What kind of impact is this?

Barcelona fans watched with expressions of disbelief, as if seeing a monster.

On the sidelines, Guardiola bit his nails, looking utterly distressed.

This was the 33rd round!

How could Suker still maintain such impact and form at this stage?

So, had Mourinho been holding Suker back until now?

Waiting for this moment to fully unleash him?

He knew the importance of having a key weapon at critical moments.

But the problem was, Suker's current state was like he was on drugs!

"Is Suker on drugs?" Ramos exclaimed in astonishment.

This impact was insane!

He single-handedly sent Barcelona's defense into disarray.

Kaká and Srna exchanged smiles.

"You haven't seen Suker play for AC Milan," Srna said with a sigh. "Those were days I'd rather not recall!"

Kaká nodded. "God Suker!"

Of course, the current Suker was even more impactful, and not just by a small margin.

On the sidelines, Mourinho breathed rapidly.

He had expected Suker to unleash a strong impact once fully liberated, but he hadn't anticipated it would be this powerful.

One man charging through Barcelona's half, throwing their defense into chaos.

As the commentator said, this was the "alien" of this era!

Simply unstoppable!

"Awesome!" Suker turned and retreated. "Keep it coming!"

Suker was exhilarated. With Mourinho fully unleashing his tactical role, Suker was in his element.

It felt like the entire Real Madrid team was stacking buffs and auras on him.

And Suker, with his unstoppable momentum and relentless drive, charged forward without any defensive burdens, solely focused on scoring!

"Suker has completely exploded. My God! Is this the right way to use Suker?" Gonzalez marveled.

This was the end of the season!

After a full season of matches, teams were worn down. Even with the same lineup, form and stamina had declined compared to the start of the season.

But now, Mourinho suddenly unveiled a fully fit Suker.

And he was charging through, every time!

So far, Suker had attempted two breakthroughs, both successful, and both shots were on target.

Who could guarantee that the next time, they would stop Suker or block his shot?

No one could!

Thump!

At that moment, Real Madrid won the ball back again.

Alonso looked up and immediately spotted the far side, launching a long ball.

"Suker!"

The ball dropped into the space behind Alves.

Suker instantly accelerated.

Alves immediately closed in on Suker.

"Don't even think about getting past me!"

"Get the hell off me!" Suker struggled fiercely.

Both reached the ball at the same time. Suker held off Alves, controlled the ball with his foot, and was about to cut inside when his leg was tripped, sending him tumbling forward.

Peep!

A sharp whistle blew.

The referee pointed to a spot just outside the left side of the penalty area, signaling a foul by Alves and showing a yellow card.

Suker saw this and nodded in satisfaction.

"Finally got him carded!"

Alves sat on the ground, gasping for breath.

"I... I did my best!"

When Suker cut inside, Alves was already exhausted. But he knew if Suker got through, he would likely score, so he had to foul.

Puyol nodded solemnly.

He knew Alves had truly given his all.

Suker was just too difficult to contain.

Real Madrid's free kick.

Suker signaled his teammates to come up for the set piece.

He positioned himself at the edge of the penalty area, shielded by his teammates.

Barcelona's defenders didn't dare relax. They tried to mark Suker, but he was surrounded by teammates, making it impossible to get to him.

At that moment, Kaká took the freekick and crossed.

Real Madrid players scattered, and Suker charged toward the center.

S judged the trajectory and jumped early.

While in the air, his body kept rising.

Suker turned his head, eyes locked on the ball, neck tense.

"Suker! He's reached it!" Gonzalez shouted.

Under everyone's gaze, Suker's body arched like a bowstring, and his forehead slammed into the ball.

Thump!

The header was powerful and precise.

The ball flew toward the bottom right corner, bounced off the ground, and slipped under Barcelona goalkeeper Valdés' arm into the net.

Swish!

Goal!

63 minutes, Real Madrid 2-1 Barcelona!

"Suker scores with a header! Real Madrid has turned the game around!!"

"Suker!! He's like an unstoppable monster. He's shown terrifying dominance in the second half!"

"Does Barcelona still have a chance? How will they respond to such a Suker?"

Guardiola bit his nails, looking tense.

He had studied Real Madrid and considered many possibilities for this match.

But he never expected Mourinho could further unleash Suker's impact.

This was completely unforeseen!

And it left Barcelona in a very passive situation.

Now, aside from Suker, most of Real Madrid's players had dropped back to defend.

But that didn't mean Real Madrid's counters were ineffective—because they had a fully buffed Suker, who alone could throw their defense into chaos.

Even scoring a goal!

As for Barcelona's attacks, on one hand, they were constrained by Suker.

On the other hand, with Real Madrid fully retreating, their defense was strengthened, making it hard for Barcelona to break through.

Damn Portuguese!

Guardiola couldn't help but curse inwardly.

But who would have thought this guy had been holding Suker back from erupting?

Most importantly, even without erupting, Suker still had such impact.

It was simply unbelievable!

In Paris, France, the tactical room of Paris Saint-Germain fell silent.

Everyone stared at the TV in disbelief.

PSG forward Ludovic Giuly gaped, unable to believe what he was seeing.

This was Barcelona!

But Suker alone had thrown this defense into disarray.

At that moment, Giuly noticed someone staring at him. He turned to see Ancelotti raising an eyebrow at him before looking away.

Giuly pursed his lips, feeling indignant.

He had scored two goals in the previous match, but Ancelotti said he hadn't shown enough commitment.

At the time, Giuly had challenged Ancelotti, leading to an unpleasant scene.

Now, Ancelotti had organized watching this Champions League match, and with Suker's performance, it felt like he was saying:

'See? This is the forward I developed. Compared to him, you're trash. How dare you question me?'