Chapter 752: Second Half Begins!

The break didn’t last that long; soon enough, the fourth referee finally came and asked them to get back to the pitch. The man even took his time glaring at Frohling here, probably still grumbling after the little spat at the end of the first half earlier.

Frohling himself just shrugged. He had already done his job putting pressure on the referee, so he didn’t mind receiving animosity for that.

"Okay, guys, remember! We might not get a lot of possession, but every strike needs to be decisive here!" He clapped loudly, reminding everyone once again even after he had said a lot during that break earlier. "Hold the defense steady, and the moment they lower their guard, show them your killing intention! Let’s show them who is the king of the North!"

"Hell, yeah!" Everyone followed with a simultaneous shout.

Soon enough, the players were finally back at the pitch, being greeted by the steel silence on the stand and some noises from the northern part of the pitch. It seemed that the opponent was ready as well, eager to get the lead once again. This time, though, a new person came out of the bench, warming up on the sideline while waiting to be announced so that he could go with the team.

Compared to a normal German build, that person was quite small and a little bit skinny. However, that didn’t mean Schalke players would underestimate him. No, if anything, everyone here knew that this person could be the most dangerous player for them later.

"That’s Jadon Sancho, and his intelligence and body balance are top-notch." Omar Mascarell reminded his teammates. "Remember, be patient with him. He knows how to draw a foul, especially in the most dangerous space. Don’t give him any chance to do that."

"Sure." Ozan Kabak nodded. "Leave him and Haaland to me."

If it were before, the rest of the players might think that he was being boastful. However, after his performance in the first half, the guys knew that he was on fire today, and his chance to shut down all the Dortmund players was quite high.

Still, even with Ozan Kabak’s confidence, no one was truly reassured. No, they all knew that Dortmund still had one more weapon, their biggest one even. Their team’s true captain, Marco Reus, was still sitting on the bench, waiting for a chance to get onto the pitch.

While he might not be as good as the other players who were currently playing, the man himself was Mr. Dortmund here, having been with the team for so many years, so his presence would be a boost to the team’s fighting spirit. If that happened, Higo and Ozan Kabak might still be able to stay confident, but the others would feel a big pressure on their shoulders.

’So, before Marco Reus comes in, we have to get a goal first, or at least make them drain their stamina further. That man wouldn’t be able to do anything if his teammates couldn’t catch up with him.’

Well, that was a thought for later. For now, though, Marco Reus was still on the bench, so their attention shifted back to Dortmund’s players once again. Jadon Sancho finally came in once the referee gave the green light, replacing Julian Brandt in midfield.

The German man hadn’t done well so far, always failing to show timely support to the other players. He couldn’t even link up with Haaland when the Norwegian striker was guarded tightly, showing that today was far from his best performance. It was no wonder that he was being replaced here.

That was the only change so far, and right after that, everyone was ready to start the game in their position. Daniel Caligliuri and Nassim Boujellab were standing in front of the ball, waiting for the referee to blow the whistle.

After a while...

FWEEE!

The referee finally did his job, starting the second half of the game. This time, as if they remembered once again how they almost got a point against Bayern Munich a few months ago, the ball suddenly moved back to Morita quickly. Not just that, five players rushed at the same time, trying to occupy all the strategic spots to get the second ball later.

Then, before anyone could come closer to him, Morita had already made his move.

BAM!

A long, diagonal pass to slice through the entire pitch!

It moved from the left side of Schalke’s territory to the opposite flank on Dortmund’s side, and there, Nassim Boujellab was ready to fight against his Moroccan compatriot, Achraf Hakimi.

"Come on, Nassim! Get it done!"

"Kill him!"

Nassim could feel the corner of his lips twitching madly when he heard that. Compared to Hakimi, he was 10 cm smaller here, and aerial duels were never his forte.

Instead of forcing himself to battle against the giant in front of him, the boy just pretended to jump for a duel before letting Hakimi get the header while he was repositioning himself for the follow-up action.

’Yeah, I am not that stupid here. Let me show you how to play smartly, Achraf, not just running around blindly!’

As for where the ball would go or what would happen if Hakimi’s header fell on the other Dortmund players, Nassim didn’t really think too much about it. After all...

BAM!

Before Dortmund’s holding midfielder, Thomas Delaney, managed to receive it with his chest, Weston McKennie suddenly appeared out of nowhere, moving like lightning to snatch the ball first. The American midfielder might not be good at a lot of things, but recycling the ball like this was definitely not a problem at all.

This time, even though he had to sacrifice his body balance, right after getting the ball on his feet, the Afro-haired man didn’t hesitate, sending a through ball to that flank again.

Thud!

"Ouch!"

Weston couldn’t help but flinch as he fell awkwardly to the ground. However, that pain seemed to be delayed right now, as adrenaline rushed in when he saw Nassim running through the sideline.

"COME ON, NASSIM! GET IT DONE!"