Messi felt something was off. Today's match seemed to be going a little too smoothly. Barcelona's mentality was still significantly affected after their last game, where they drew 5-5 after being up 2-5.
Originally, Barcelona was invincible, almost sweeping La Liga, leading the table with an 11-point advantage over Real Madrid, and was about to win the La Liga title four rounds early. Every Barcelona player firmly believed in their football philosophy, thinking that tiki-taka was invincible, and their mentality was enough to crush all other teams.
However, after Jin Hayes scored a quadruple to equalise, Barcelona began to doubt themselves. Once doubt arises, the passing and positioning on the pitch lose their fluidity, making them easier to break down.
Barcelona's 1-2 loss to Mallorca in the 34th round of La Liga was enough to prove their poor form.
This match started similarly, with Dortmund repeatedly finding opportunities for counter-attacks, and several offensive plays almost broke through. But at critical moments, either an offside was called, or a foul by a Barcelona defender went uncalled.
After Dortmund's attacks were continuously thwarted, Messi finally found an opportunity, threatening Dortmund with two consecutive shots. Once the opponent's morale was dampened and their counter-attacks were no longer sharp, Barcelona finally regained the initiative and began their possession-based play.
"Xavi tries to find an opportunity, passes to the left wing—Andrés Iniesta, he's found space and is driving in!"
"Unfortunately, the cross was successfully cleared by Neven Subotić, and Barcelona get their second corner of the match."
Messi frowned, and during the dead ball, he found Xavi.
"Xavier, have you noticed a problem?"
"What?"
"The referee seems… a little biased towards us."
"That's normal, it's a home whistle."
The phenomenon of a referee slightly favouring the home team is common in football. Under pressure from the home fans, making some harmless concessions in judgment calls is understandable. However, the officiating of the referee, Tom Henning Øvrebø, seemed overly biased. He ignored Barcelona's fouls, and when Dortmund players became more aggressive, Øvrebø called every single one. Even Messi couldn't stand it.
"Leo, just tell me, do you want to win?"
"Of course I do, I want to go to the final, I want to win the Champions League."
"Then that's it, we play our game, what does it have to do with the referee?" Xavi shrugged.
What he said was indeed correct; the team that benefits should just silently make a fortune, how could they actively question it? Wouldn't that be utterly foolish?
"But—never mind."
Messi thought about it and agreed, no longer bothering with the matter, perhaps it was simply a missed call by the referee? Or perhaps the referee was trying to balance things out at a crucial moment, intentionally giving Dortmund some leeway? No one could say for sure.
....
Camp Nou stands, VIP box area.
On the field, a Dortmund player's challenge was called a foul, giving Barcelona a perfectly positioned free-kick opportunity. Messi stood over the ball, preparing to take the kick. Camp Nou erupted in applause and cheers. Dortmund CEO Hans-Joachim Watzke sneered twice; next to him was Barcelona club president, Joan Laporta.
"Mr. Watzke, your club's performance today is also quite perfect; I truly like these young men."
"Yes, they are a group of passionate youths, experiencing the Champions League for the first time, so they lack some experience."
"Not at all, they're already excellent."
"Still not as good as Barcelona, we need to learn more from you, not only your leading European tiki-taka football but also your effective utilisation of all factors on and off the field."
"Oh? How so?" Laporta's smile froze.
"Hahaha, nothing, I mean our young players are too impulsive, constantly fouling is not good."
"Yes, hahaha, the rules of football are there to protect the players."
The atmosphere in the stands seemed very harmonious and friendly.
"Damn it, old fox! If you can't beat us, you resort to dirty tricks, huh?"
Watzke forced a friendly smile at Laporta.
"You bastard, are you trying to provoke me? If you have the guts, then don't foul."
Laporta returned a similar smile.
On the field, Messi took his run-up, and the free-kick went slightly over the crossbar.
"That was a great shot."
"Not at all, just a bit unlucky. Your defence is excellent."
The two exchanged a few pleasantries while looking at the field, their smiles vanishing simultaneously.
"There shouldn't be any more problems, right?"
After 10 minutes of chaos in the first half, referee Øvrebø did not make any outrageous calls for a while, seeming much more normal. Jin Hayes also breathed a slight sigh of relief. Due to Barcelona's possession advantage, Dortmund hadn't crossed the halfway line for nearly 10 minutes. The immense defensive pressure forced the team to increase physical contact, attempting to disrupt Barcelona's tiki-taka with fierce tackles. Otherwise, it would be truly difficult to defend.
A 0-0 score was temporarily good news for Dortmund. They just needed to hold on for this period, and after 30 minutes, when Barcelona's stamina and concentration dropped, they could try to launch a counter-attack and steal a goal. If a 1-0 lead could be maintained until the end, victory would belong to Dortmund.
Jin Hayes's plan was good, but reality often brought more changes. In the 28th minute of the first half, Xavi's through ball in midfield quickened the pace; Samuel Eto'o dropped back to receive the ball, played it to Messi with a single touch, and then made a return run.
Messi seized the opportunity to chip the ball with his left foot, intending to link up with Eto'o. However, this chipped pass was noticed by Mats Hummels in the penalty area, who quickly rushed to block Eto'o.
Under physical pressure from Hummels, Eto'o miscontrolled the ball, and it bounced a considerable distance forward. In a desperate moment, as Eto'o charged forward, his foot slipped, and he fell to the ground; Hummels expertly shielded his position, protecting the ball for goalkeeper Roman Weidenfeller.
A successful defence.
"Beautiful, Mats!" Jin Hayes gave a thumbs-up from afar, preparing to make a run back to initiate a counter-attack. Dortmund fans in the away stands also waved flags and cheered, with drums thundering. Weidenfeller was about to throw the ball to launch a counter-attack.
Whoosh!!
A piercing whistle suddenly sounded, and referee Øvrebø pointed to the penalty spot.
Halfway through his run, Jin Hayes turned back, realising something was wrong.
"What's going on?"
Commentators from various countries were also stunned by this sudden situation.
"Eh? Sent! Penalty?! The referee points to the penalty spot, awarding—a penalty?"
Duan Xuan's voice was filled with doubt. Commentator Xu Yang was also dumbfounded.
"Huh? They can call a penalty for that?"
Øvrebø's attitude was very firm, leaving no room for doubt. So much so that Dortmund players initially thought they had committed a foul in their own box, their expressions immediately turning dejected. Only Hummels was furious.
"Hey!! I didn't foul!! He dived! He dived!!!" Hummels frantically rushed towards referee Øvrebø, defending himself indignantly. Øvrebø completely ignored him, his finger still pointing to the penalty spot, beckoning Barcelona players to quickly come and take the kick.
"Verfickte Scheiße!!" German Sport1 TV commentator Mehmet Scholl simply swore; such language would definitely result in a pay cut. But he couldn't help himself. "How can that be a penalty?"
Slow-motion replays showed Mats Hummels' foot only touched the ball, and his upper body and hands made no movement; it was purely physical contact within the rules.
"If that's a penalty, then defenders shouldn't defend in the box, should they? Just let the opponents shoot? That makes no sense!"
"Where's the fourth official? The assistant referee? Didn't anyone remind him?"
Unfortunately, once the referee made a decision, there was no possibility of overturning it. At that time, there were no corresponding technical aids for referees; everything was based on eyesight. Even if there were serious issues with the call, they would be dealt with after the match; the moment the whistle blew, the outcome was already decided.
"This is truly messed up!!" German commentator was fuming, his lungs almost bursting; guest Bierhoff quickly restrained him to prevent any excessive actions. On the field, Sebastian Kehl, Hummels, Neven Subotić, Jin Hayes—a group of players surrounded the referee, demanding an explanation. But Tom Henning Øvrebø ignored them and, in turn, gave Hummels a yellow card.
"Me, a yellow card?"
"You questioned the referee's fairness; by the rules, a yellow card warning!"
"I ****" Hummels almost rushed forward to do something foolish, but luckily Kehl pulled him away.
"Jin, you hold him, I'll talk to the referee again."
"Okay."
Jin Hayes quickly pulled his good friend away. Hummels was only 21 years old this year, young and impulsive; encountering an unfair situation naturally filled him with righteous indignation.
"Deep breaths, Mats, deep breaths."
"Jin, he's just a—"
"Watch your words! Deep breaths, calm down!"
Jin Hayes warned Hummels with a serious expression, and only then did the young man suppress his anger, obediently taking deep breaths to adjust his emotions.
"You already have a yellow card; you must be calmer. We still need you; if you're out, we really won't have any chance."
"They will get their comeuppance for this!"
"That's right! But we need to get revenge on them with goals, with victory! You need to have the awareness of a professional player; fists will only harm yourself!"
After finally persuading Hummels, the captain's negotiation failed. To avoid getting cards, the Dortmund players still dispersed, allowing Lionel Messi to take the penalty. Messi stood over the ball, looking at the angry Dortmund players, suddenly feeling a bit disheartened. He originally intended to go head-to-head, to crush Dortmund with Barcelona's strength, proving Barcelona was the strongest team in the world. With the referee's intervention, even if they won, it would feel like an undeserved victory.
"Never mind, as long as we can win the Champions League."
Messi was not a troublemaker. Since things had come to this, he would take the penalty first. He took his run-up, a flick of his ankle deceived the goalkeeper, and he easily scored into the bottom corner in the opposite direction.
Barcelona led Dortmund 1-0 at home. Messi was happy after scoring, celebrating with both hands pointing to the sky, and Barcelona players embraced. Dortmund players stood with hands on hips, their eyes filled with confusion and disbelief. Roman Weidenfeller retrieved the ball from the net, angrily booting it to midfield.
"Seriously!"
Standing at the centre circle, Jin Hayes suddenly laughed. When people are extremely speechless, they really do laugh out loud. Oh well, there's nothing to be done. I originally wanted to compete against you all as a normal player, with genuine skill. But since Barcelona is playing dirty, then I won't pretend anymore—I'm coming clean. I'm a cheat.
Jin Hayes looked towards Barcelona's goal, his eyes devoid of anger, his expression not serious at all. He was more like a butcher, facing meat on a chopping block with no emotion, only the swift fall of the blade.
Whoosh!
The game restarted, and Alexander Frei passed the ball to Jin Hayes. Normally, he would pass back to a teammate, and they would all spread out into an attacking formation, pushing collectively towards Barcelona's half. Nuri Şahin was already prepared, sprinting a few steps forward to receive Jin Hayes's pass.
Even Samuel Eto'o passed Jin Hayes without stopping, heading straight for Şahin. Just as the two were passing each other, Jin Hayes moved, dribbling directly past Eto'o, and charged alone into the Barcelona formation.
"What is he doing?"
"Has he gone crazy?"
Both the Barcelona players and the fans in the stands were stunned. Jin Hayes didn't wait for his teammates to run with him; he was essentially facing Barcelona's 11 players by himself. Fans in the distant stands even had a sense of déjà vu, like playing a football video game where a player just charges forward with the ball at the start, treating the opponent like AI. Isn't this just reckless?
Xavi, Andrés Iniesta, Messi—three great players simultaneously charged at Jin Hayes. Since Jin Hayes had gone mad, they didn't mind surrounding him to win the ball and launch a counter-attack.
Knowing Jin Hayes's formidable dribbling skills, Xavi and Iniesta formed a human wall in front of him, completely blocking his path. Messi looked for an opportunity to stick out a leg and steal the ball.
Ultimate Skill: [Full Potency Stance]! Activate.
This was Jin Hayes's secret weapon. In the previous match against Barcelona, when Jin Hayes simultaneously activated his strength, technique, and speed talents, a sudden enlightenment erupted from deep within him. The feeling was identical to his initial awakening.
After several trials on the training ground, Jin Hayes had initially mastered how to use this ability, and in his mind, he would randomly draw from an unknown game character, casually grabbing a skill name to use as his own.
[Full Potency Stance] —as the name implies, at the cost of sacrificing some abilities, it grants a significant boost to core abilities. Side effect: after using the ability, he would lose his cheat-like abilities for a period, retaining only his base strength. But activating it could significantly enhance his ball control, speed, strength, and decision-making for a short period.
Of course, all of this was like a half-finished product; there were no clear skill release prompts, no clear guidance. Whether it could be successfully used depended entirely on metaphysics—meaning, he needed to completely cast aside all distractions, achieving a state of tranquil mind and undisturbed focus, maintaining it for a period, and searching for the most fundamental belief deep within his heart. Finding this obsession would allow him to successfully activate Full Potency Stance. Any slight interference would quickly interrupt it.
Jin Hayes's first successful replication was on an empty training ground, under completely calm conditions. To achieve it was even more difficult than unlocking a hidden potential in a moment of crisis. It was very difficult for ordinary people to summon such a deep-seated belief. Even facing imminent death might not reach this level. But referee Tom Henning Øvrebø's shameless foul call gave Jin Hayes a perfect opportunity.
Thank you, Tom Henning Øvrebø.
At this moment, Jin Hayes's belief in victory soared. When the team's morale was severely hit, and everyone lost the will to fight, he had to step up. Score a goal first. Even if it cost everything, he would break all of this—break the myth of invincibility. To hell with the unfairness. No one could stop him.
...
Back to the match, facing Xavi and Andrés Iniesta's almost perfect pocket defence, Jin Hayes remained calm, his heart rate steadily slowing. Xavi and Iniesta gradually moved in slow motion; Jin Hayes could even notice the micro-expressions on their faces freezing. Around Jin Hayes, time slowed down infinitely, yet only he maintained normal thought and action.
Lionel Messi's outstretched leg was also incredibly slow; Jin Hayes flicked the ball to the right with his toe, almost grazing Messi's boot, skipping past his toe, and then he naturally lifted his leg to avoid Messi's interception.
Between Xavi and Iniesta, there was a gap just wide enough for him to squeeze through sideways. Normally, it would be impossible to pass through at high speed while dribbling; he would inevitably be hit and lose his balance. But Jin Hayes charged straight through, undeterred.
Within a range of less than 0.5 metres, Jin Hayes lightly flicked the ball with the inside of his right toe, perfectly nutmegging Iniesta on the right, while simultaneously turning sharply sideways, squeezing through the narrow space between the two players.
Under the effect of extreme overload speed and man of steel, Jin Hayes met no resistance; his body was completely unrestrained, passing through the two and turning, continuing to dribble towards the front of the field.
Yaya Touré's expression changed from normal to terrified, the entire process unfolding like slow motion captured by a high-speed camera. He transformed into a charging bull, directly at Jin Hayes, intending to knock him flying. Even a tactical foul and a yellow card to stop Jin Hayes would be worth it, not to mention it might not even be a card or a foul.
A brutal foul came from his front-side, but Jin Hayes, like a superhero awakening his powers for the first time, predicted Yaya Touré's path in slow motion, with nimble footwork, he deftly avoided the midfielder with a Marseille Turn, and even completed a precise nutmeg with a backheel, passing another player.
Seydou Keita was already flustered; he hadn't even clearly seen Jin Hayes's shadow before Jin Hayes was already dribbling in front of him. Keita suddenly felt like he was being stared down by a predator on the African savanna; he tried to retreat to create distance and wait for support, but Jin Hayes, dribbling, took a powerful stride, closing in like a shadow.
To gain speed, the ball was pushed a little too far, and Keita instinctively pounced to intercept the ball. However, Jin Hayes's ghostly speed got there first, his right foot shielding the ball, tricking Keita into moving laterally to block his breakthrough direction.
Within a mere 0.1 seconds, at least three different dribbling methods suddenly appeared in Jin Hayes's mind, his brain working at high speed, calculating the success rate of different dribbles in that instant, and anticipating Keita's countermeasures for different actions.
If he changed direction to the right, Keita would push him to foul; if he did a elastico to break through from the left, Keita would immediately grab his jersey, trip him, and bring him down; if he nutmegged him and went around, Keita would reach out and hug him.
Jin Hayes shifted his feet, pulled the ball back with his right foot, maintaining a one-body-length distance from Keita, while simultaneously flicking the ball up and turning to avoid Keita's outstretched hand, accelerating to the left to completely shake off his opponent.
In Keita's eyes, Jin Hayes was simply a devil. The Chinese player perfectly anticipated his tackle, pulling the ball, flicking it up, and turning, again avoiding his outstretched hand to grab him. The entire process was without any delay or hesitation, perfectly evading all his defensive attempts. He couldn't even turn to chase back; the opponent had already completely pulled away.
Keita could at least foul Messi, but this young Chinese player didn't even give him a chance to foul. Performing street football tricks while dribbling at high speed without slowing down—was this even human?
After continuously dribbling past Messi, Iniesta, Xavi, Yaya Touré, and Keita, Gerard Piqué was almost going crazy; that devil was charging straight at him. What could he do?
If he pressed, he'd definitely be beaten. Piqué could only stand horizontally in front of the penalty area line, trying to predict Jin Hayes's breakthrough direction and attempting a foul interception. But Jin Hayes started playing around.
The humiliating rainbow flick reappeared on the field. Piqué's vision blurred; the ball at the opponent's feet disappeared. The moment he looked up to find the ball, Jin Hayes had already slipped past him like lightning.
"How is that possible?"
Piqué reached out to grab his shoulder, but he was slickly evaded with a sidestep. Carles Puyol was completely out of options; he could only slide tackle inside the box, trying to widen his defensive area and block the ball. But he didn't expect Jin Hayes had no intention of stopping the ball with his feet. After the rainbow flick, this guy lightly headed the ball forward, as if he had already anticipated Puyol's slide tackle.
After leaping over the tough guy Puyol, goalkeeper Víctor Valdés was already starting to question reality. One person—just one person. He had dribbled past Messi, Iniesta, Xavi, Yaya Touré, Keita, Piqué, and Puyol—seven players in a row. A true solo run, cutting through the entire Barcelona team. Treating the central axis like his living room, he casually charged into the Barcelona penalty area.
Valdés was completely flustered; he dove to the ground before Jin Hayes even made a move. But Jin Hayes ruthlessly flicked the ball with his left foot to go around the diving Valdés, even chipping the ball with his toe over Valdés's gloves. He charged past on the left, heading straight for the empty net.
Everything happened too fast; Jin Hayes's action of dribbling past seven players was incredibly sudden from a bystander's perspective.
At first, everyone thought Jin Hayes was just probing with the ball, and then he would normally pass it to a teammate to organise the attack. But when Jin Hayes broke past Messi, and then lightning-fast dribbled past Xavi and Iniesta, everyone suddenly realised something was wrong.
"Jin Hayes! Choosing to break through himself?! He's through!! Beautiful!!" Duan Xuan clenched his fists, his scalp tingling. "Jin—dribbles past Messi, accelerates! Wow!! What a crazy choice!!" German commentator Berenberg enthusiastically shouted.
"Magnificent move! Jesus Christ!" Sky Sports commentator Martin Tyler, in over 20 years of his career, had never seen such a wild player.
The Barcelona fans at Camp Nou, their mood changed from mockery to terror. Because they found Jin Hayes to be simply a ghost; everyone from Barcelona, giving their all, couldn't stop him. Shadows flickered as Jin Hayes, with irresistible momentum, carved out a bloody path. The moment he dribbled past goalkeeper Valdés, many fans almost fainted on the spot. This moment would become a nightmare they would never forget in their lives. The La Liga champions were challenged across the entire field by a 16-year-old.
"GOOOOOOOOOAL!!"
"A goal that cannot be described with words, a feat that neither Maradona nor Pelé could achieve!"
"He alone dribbled from the centre circle and crushed the entire Barcelona team!"
"Having just conceded a goal due to the referee's unfair call, Jin Hayes forcefully equalised the score within one minute!"
"Dortmund is invincible today! No one can stop them!"
Berenberg's earlier frustration and suppression instantly exploded. His hoarse voice roared out. Fans worldwide were ignited by Jin Hayes's individual heroism. He used his actions to deliver a harsh slap to the opponent's face. A wrong call, was it? You score one, I score one back.
After scoring, Jin Hayes sprinted towards the home stands, towards the position of Barcelona president Joan Laporta. He took off his jersey, revealing his dark number 10, brightly displayed in front of him.
"Remember my name!"
A domineering goal, a domineering celebration. The world was shocked. The Camp Nou crowd fell silent, save for the small pocket of Dortmund supporters who erupted in defiant cheers. Jin Hayes stood amidst the chaos, chest heaving, eyes blazing.