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**Lisbon, Portugal, November 7, 2025**
The Estádio da Luz glowed like a beacon, its 65,000 seats a mosaic of Portuguese fervor under Lisbon's starlit sky. Tonight's international friendly—Spain U-21 versus Germany U-21, hosted on neutral ground—crackled with promise, a stage for Europe's young titans. Lin Feng stood in the Spain U-21 tunnel, his red-and-yellow kit crisp, the crest a flame against his olive skin. His hazel eyes, woven from his Chinese-Spanish heritage, shimmered with quiet hunger. At 18, he was no shadow of his past life's failures. His La Liga hat-trick at Camp Nou and U-21 trial in Alicante had forged a legend, a prodigy now debuting for Spain's youth elite.
The [**Supreme Football System**] was his hidden edge, a secret veiled from teammates, coaches, and the world. Its permanent [**Causality Powers**] and skills, honed over years of grinding in Valencia's shadows, elevated his D-Grade talent to divine heights. With 22,300 [**System Points**] after outshining Pedro Alvarez, Lin Feng was ready to claim Europe's gaze. Tonight, the [**System**] would dance subtly, his brilliance a masterpiece of skill, not a celestial cheat.
His rival was Germany's U-21 midfield prodigy, Lukas "Der Blitz" Müller, a 19-year-old with platinum hair and ice-blue eyes, known for his lightning runs and pinpoint passes. Lukas's Bayern Munich contract made him a darling of German media, but his sharp tongue—calling rivals "overhyped amateurs" in a recent interview—marked him as a predator. In Lin Feng's past life, Lukas was a distant star. Tonight, Lin Feng would eclipse Der Blitz.
The [**System**] flickered in his mind:
[**Mission: Debut for Spain's U-21 Team and Score.**]
[**Reward: 4,500 system points, +2 Prestige Points.**]
[**Hidden Mission: Outshine Lukas Müller and Earn European Media Praise.**]
[**Reward: 3,000 system points, +2 Skill Points.**]
Lin Feng's grin was a flicker of dawn. Outshine Lukas and seize Europe's headlines? He'd make Lisbon's lights bow, keeping the [**System**] shrouded. His dominance would blaze as talent, not a divine spark.
The Spain U-21 squad huddled, their breath visible in the cool air. Diego Ruiz, the lanky midfielder from Alicante, clapped Lin Feng's shoulder. "Time to light up Lisbon, Feng!" His grin was a spark, distinct from Soler's veteran nods. Lin Feng's [**Charisma Aura**] pulsed, his voice bold. "Let's paint this pitch red, Diego." The team roared, their spirits ignited, a fresh bond forged.
Coach Javier Sánchez, his hawk-like gaze piercing, fixed Lin Feng with intensity. "You're starting as attacking midfielder, Feng. Germany's relentless—Müller's their engine. Break him."
Lin Feng's reply was steel, yet unique. "I'll turn his lightning to ash, Coach." Sánchez nodded, sensing a star's birth. In his past life, Lin Feng was dust. Now, he was Spain's flame.
The teams emerged, the Estádio's roar a tidal wave. Germany's white-and-black kits gleamed, their players exuding Teutonic precision. Lukas Müller prowled the midfield, his blue eyes locking onto Lin Feng with a smirk. "Ready to fizzle out, Spaniard?" he taunted, his voice cutting through the din.
Lin Feng's eyes danced, his retort sharp but playful. "Keep sparking, Blitz. I'll douse you soon." The crowd buzzed, sensing a duel, as the whistle sliced the night.
The match erupted, a clash of youth and ambition. Germany's high press was surgical, Lukas orchestrating with ruthless pace, his passes razor-sharp. Lin Feng moved like a zephyr, his [**Steel Body**] absorbing tackles, his [**Eagle Vision**] piercing their lines.
In the 8th minute, Spain countered. Diego passed, and Lin Feng controlled with [**Maradona's D10S Touch**], the ball an extension of his will. Lukas lunged, but Lin Feng dodged with [**Cruyff's Phantom Turn**], his body a blur, leaving the German sprawling. He activated [**Perfect Pass**], threading a 20-yard ball to a winger, whose shot forced a diving save. The crowd gasped, Lukas's smirk faltering.
Germany struck, Lukas launching a 40-yard pass for a striker to head home, 1–0. He celebrated with a mock salute, taunting Spain's bench. Lin Feng dropped back, his [**Beckenbauer's Iron Wall**] instincts thwarting a second goal, intercepting a pass with eerie calm. Diego nodded, their synergy growing. "You're a fortress, Feng!"
In the 15th minute, Lin Feng ignited. Spain regained possession, and he used [**Pirlo's Deep Playmaker**] to slow the tempo, baiting Germany's press. Lukas marked him, but Lin Feng feinted with [**Ronaldinho's Elastico**], then entered the 18-yard box. The [**Causality Power**] flared—[*All shots within the 18-yard box score*]. His shot, powered by [**Thunder Strike**], was a comet, crashing past the keeper.
1–1.
The Spanish fans erupted, Diego mobbing Lin Feng with a grin. Lukas's face darkened, his lightning dimmed. Lin Feng jogged back, his expression serene, the [**System**]'s magic unseen. To the crowd, he was a prodigy; to himself, a master.
Germany rallied, Lukas weaving a counter, his shot grazing the post. Lin Feng's heart burned, the [**Hidden Mission**] alight—outshine Lukas. One goal wasn't enough; he needed to dominate.
In the 25th minute, Lin Feng struck again. Spain won a free kick near midfield. He took it, using [**Xavi's Maestro Vision**] to launch a 45-yard pass, splitting Germany's defense. The ball found Diego, who crossed. Lin Feng surged into the box, Lukas trailing. He twisted with [**Cruyff's Phantom Turn**], leaving Lukas lunging, and fired with [**Thunder Strike**], the [**Causality Power**] ensuring the net rippled.
2–1.
The Estádio roared, European scouts scribbling furiously. Lukas slammed the ground, his composure shattered. Lin Feng's grin was a silent blade, Diego cheering. The [**System**] chimed:
[*Ding!*]
[**Hidden Mission Progress: Outshine Lukas Müller (50% Complete).**]
The first half ended, Spain leading. In the dugout, Sánchez was electric. "Feng, you're rewriting this game! Keep it fierce!" Diego tossed him a towel, laughing. "You're making Müller look like a sparkler!" Lin Feng's reply was light, fresh. "Good. Let's make him fizzle out." Their banter sparked camaraderie, distinct from past arcs.
The second half was a tempest. Germany pushed, Lukas driving their midfield with desperate fury, his passes testing Spain's keeper. Lin Feng was a maestro, his [**Steel Body**] defying fouls, his [**Iniesta's Tiki-Taka**] linking passes with [**Perfect Pass**] precision. In the 60th minute, he intercepted a pass with [**Beckenbauer's Iron Wall**], sprinting forward. Lukas fouled him, earning a yellow, but Lin Feng rose, a phoenix.
Spain won a corner in the 70th minute. Diego's delivery soared, and Lin Feng leaped, using [**Maradona's D10S Touch**] to position himself. Lukas marked him, but Lin Feng twisted with [**Messi's La Croqueta**], entering the box. The [**Causality Power**] ignited, his header a dart that nestled in the net.
3–1.
The stadium quaked, Spanish fans chanting "Lin Feng! Lin Feng!" Lukas's face was despair, his blitz extinguished. Sánchez leaped, scouts nodding. The [**System**] sang:
[*Ding!*]
[**Mission Complete: Debut for Spain's U-21 Team and Score.**]
[**Reward: 4,500 system points, +2 Prestige Points.**]
[**Total System Points: 26,800**]
The match ended 3–2, a late German goal irrelevant. Lin Feng was named Man of the Match, his header replayed on screens. "This is for Spain," he said into a microphone, his [**Charisma Aura**] radiant. Lukas left the pitch, humbled, another rival felled.
[*Ding!*]
[**Hidden Mission Complete: Outshine Lukas Müller and Earn European Media Praise.**]
[**Reward: 3,000 system points, +2 Skill Points.**]
[**Total System Points: 29,800**]
Lin Feng opened the [**System Shop**], its glow a private star. He typed "skills":
- [**Neymar's Rainbow Flick (+25% Trickery)**]: 700 points.
- [**Ronaldo's Knuckleball (+30% Free Kick Accuracy)**]: 3,000 points.
He chose [**Ronaldo's Knuckleball**], spending 3,000 points. A surge of precision flooded his boots, free kicks now his domain. With 26,800 points, he was ready for greater battles.
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That night, Lin Feng joined Diego and the U-21 squad at Lisbon's Bairro Alto night market, its stalls aglow with lanterns. The air hummed with fado music, the scent of grilled sardines and pastel de nata wafting. Diego handed him a custard tart, grinning. "You made Germany cry, Feng. Eat like a king!" Lin Feng laughed, his reply warm. "Only if you keep up next match, amigo." Their bond was vibrant, a new shade of friendship.
Lin Feng wandered the market, buying a hand-carved wooden boat for Wei, picturing his father's smile. A street performer juggled fire, and Lin Feng tossed a coin, his [**Charisma Aura**] earning a bow. In his past life, he'd shunned such moments, too bitter. Now, Lisbon's pulse was his joy.
His phone buzzed—a call from Elena Voss. "Man of the Match on your U-21 debut?" her voice teased, softer than her usual edge. "You're making waves, Lin Feng."
He leaned against a stall, Lisbon's lights reflecting in his eyes. "Just riding the tide, Elena. Madrid meeting soon?" His tone was hopeful, not a grand vow, their dynamic evolving.
"Next week," she said, a smile in her voice. "Big doors, bigger dreams. Keep shining." He hung up, his heart light, their bond a spark of possibility.
Back in El Carmen, Sofia and Wei greeted him with croquetas and Chinese stir-fry. Sofia's eyes glowed, showing a clip of his header. "Spain's star, mijo!" Wei's stern face warmed. "Play with soul, Feng, not just skill."
Lin Feng's heart swelled, his [**Family Bond Point**] grounding him. "I'm here for us," he said, his voice soft, not a rehearsed oath. In his past life, he'd lost them. Now, they were his compass.
As he lay in bed, the [**System**] flickered:
[**Hidden Mission Unlocked: Lead Spain U-21 to Victory in a UEFA Qualifier.**]
[**Reward: 5,000 system points, +2 Influence Points.**]
Lin Feng's eyes burned like Lisbon's stars. Lukas Müller was another shadow surpassed. The [**System**] was his secret, his empire his destiny. The UEFA qualifier loomed, and Europe would tremble.
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