Estádio do Bessa.
The home stadium of Boavista.
Tonight, the air was thick with the scent of gunpowder. It was the "Porto Derby," the day the city split into black-and-white and blue-and-white. For die-hard fans, losing to anyone was acceptable, except for their neighbors, Porto.
Inside the player tunnel.
Players from both teams stood side by side, waiting to enter the pitch.
The atmosphere was so oppressive it was suffocating.
Standing beside Lin Yuan was Porto's captain, the 41-year-old legendary center-back—Pepe.
This former core of Real Madrid's iron-blooded defense, even with thinning hair now, still had eyes deep in their sockets that radiated a terrifying, chilling light. Just by standing there, the murderous aura he emitted was enough to make ordinary young forwards' legs go weak.
Pepe was adjusting his captain's armband when he suddenly turned his head, his gaze locking onto Lin Yuan like a hawk.
Clearly, he had also heard about the "undisciplined" Eastern kid who had recently appeared in the Primeira Liga.
"I heard you like crashing into people?"
Pepe's voice was dry, cold, and hard, carrying the condescending scrutiny of a senior.
Lin Yuan looked straight ahead, adjusting his shin guards without turning his head:
"It's just work."
Pepe let out a cold laugh and leaned in closer, speaking in a voice only the two of them could hear:
"Kid, I was breaking forwards' legs while you were still drinking milk. Be careful tonight; don't act wild on my turf, or I'll show you what a real 'villain' looks like."
Lin Yuan finally turned his head.
He looked at this veteran who was half a head shorter than him but possessed a terrifying presence. His gaze didn't flicker in the slightest; instead, he bared a row of gleaming white teeth:
"Old man, your era is over."
"Also, this is Estádio do Bessa. This is my turf."
Pepe froze for a moment, then the fire of rage in his eyes exploded.
Before he could lash out, the referee blew the whistle.
"Enter!"
...The match began.
Porto lived up to their reputation as Champions League regulars, their strength far exceeding Boavista's.
Only ten minutes into the game, Porto was laying siege to Boavista's half with a barrage of attacks.
Lin Yuan was very busy.
He was like a vacuum cleaner running at full power, frantically sweeping the area in front of the penalty box.
[Passive Skill: Meat Grinder (Beginner) is active...]
[Physical confrontation success rate increased by 20%...]
In the 15th minute, Porto's Brazilian winger cut inside with the ball.
Lin Yuan anticipated accurately, executing a fierce 'closing the door' tackle that sent the opponent flying straight into the sideline advertising boards.
"Good ball!" The Boavista fans in the stands cheered wildly.
In the 28th minute, Porto's attacking midfielder attempted a through ball.
Lin Yuan went in for a sliding tackle, taking both the ball and the man. Although a foul was called, the look in his eyes as he stood up frightened the opposing midfielder into backing away repeatedly.
But he knew the real test hadn't arrived yet.
35th minute. Porto earned a corner kick.
Two tall center-backs charged into Boavista's penalty area.
One of them was the bald-headed Pepe.
"Mark Pepe! Don't let him jump!" the goalkeeper shouted in panic.
Lin Yuan took the initiative to walk over and stand beside Pepe.
The two began an off-the-ball physical struggle inside the box.
Shoving, hidden elbows, stepping on toes.
Dirty tricks invisible to the referee emerged one after another in this moment.
Pepe was an experienced veteran; the moment the corner was taken, he covertly drove his elbow into Lin Yuan's ribs, trying to create space.
This was a sinister move; if it were an ordinary rookie, they would surely shrink back in pain.
But Lin Yuan didn't dodge.
He took the elbow strike squarely with his ribs. The sharp pain made him groan, but he used the adrenaline stimulated by that pain to grab Pepe's jersey in return, holding his ground firmly as if he were going to tear the shirt apart!
[System Judgment: Head-to-head! notoriety points +200!]
"You want to get past? Not unless you step over my corpse!" Lin Yuan growled.
The football flew in.
Pepe was entangled so tightly by Lin Yuan that he actually couldn't jump!
Lin Yuan beat him to the ball, heading it out of the penalty area for a clearance.
After landing, the two turned almost simultaneously, forehead to forehead, confronting each other like two bulls.
"Is that all the strength you have, old man?" Lin Yuan provoked, panting heavily.
In the stands, Mourinho's scout—a middle-aged man in a trench coat—was holding binoculars. With the corners of his mouth curling up slightly, he wrote a line in his notebook:
"Extremely strong pain suppression ability. Holds his own against Pepe. Personality rating: S+."
...70th minute of the second half.
Score 0: 0.
Porto was getting anxious.
During a long-ball counterattack, the ball fell toward a no-man's land near the center circle.
This was an absolute 50/50 opportunity.
Lin Yuan sprinted at full speed from the backfield.
Pepe charged forward at full speed from the defensive line.
Two generations of 'villains' saw the madness in each other's eyes at this moment.
Whoever slows down is a coward.
The entire audience seemed to sense something; their gasps were drowned out by the sound of impact as soon as they left their mouths.
BOOM!!!
There was no deceleration whatsoever.
Two powerful bodies collided head-on at high speed without any frills.
The noise at that moment was like two motorcycles crashing into each other.
Lin Yuan felt as if his chest had been struck by a sledgehammer. His internal organs were vibrating, and he was thrown backward, rolling twice on the grass.
But he didn't stay down.
Savage Physique was working frantically.
He pushed himself up with his hands, gritting his teeth. Shaking his dizzy head, he stood back up in just two seconds!
On the other side.
The 41-year-old Pepe lay on the ground, clutching his chest. Although he wasn't injured, he struggled for a moment and actually couldn't get up immediately.
Time spares no one.
In a pure physical collision and recovery contest, the young beast had ultimately triumphed over the aging lion king.
Lin Yuan stood where he was, looking down at Pepe on the ground.
He didn't reach out to pull him up; he just gave a cold glance, then turned back to join the defense.
This scene was frozen in time by the pitch-side photographers.
The background was the fans at Estádio do Bessa waving their flags frantically.
In the frame, the young tyrant stood tall, while the legendary Warrior Monk lay on the ground.
At this moment, everyone understood one fact:
The 'Throne of Villains' in the Primeira Liga had changed hands.
Final score 0: 0.
At home, Boavista managed to snatch a point from the powerful Porto, thanks to Lin Yuan's almost suicidal style of defending.
After the match.
Pepe stopped as he passed by Lin Yuan.
He didn't provoke him like he did at the start. Instead, he gave Lin Yuan a deep look and spat out a sentence in Portuguese:
"The Premier League suits you better. Go cause trouble over there; don't hang around the Primeira Liga anymore."
Lin Yuan wiped the sweat from his face and replied:
"That's the plan."