Chapter 55: A Ball Worth a Thousand Pieces of Gold

Right now, the entire European football world—no, one might even say the entire global football community—has its eyes fixed on Mo Mo’s transfer. This is not because of how famous or exceptionally talented Mo Mo is, but rather because the situation has become incredibly sensational.

Mo Mo has found himself in a rather awkward predicament. If you reject Chelsea’s 36-million-euro offer, that is fine, no problem. But if you want to move to another club, such as Porto (which only offered a maximum of 10 million euros), the board of 1860 Munich will never let you go unless there is a transfer fee of at least 20 million euros. And 20 million is merely the bare minimum; in their view, the more, the better. If that base expectation isn't met, 1860 Munich is perfectly willing to let Mo Mo rot on their hands.

In truth, this is all because Chelsea threw a wrench into the works. Without Chelsea’s interference, 1860 Munich might have been satisfied with 6 million euros. But unfortunately, Chelsea entered the picture. It is like a student who usually scores 100 getting a 99 and being punished, while a student who usually fails suddenly passes—it makes absolutely no sense.

Every match is crucial for Mo Mo now. To put it bluntly, his market value has been artificially inflated; he is currently not worth 36 million euros. Even David Beckham went for around that price (35 million euros to Real Madrid, though the exchange rate was different then), and even the legendary Kaka later went for only 65 million euros. Perhaps the scale of this is hard to grasp, but consider this: when Ronaldo transferred to Real Madrid, the fee was only 45 million euros! Is Mo Mo really worth 36 million? If he doesn't deliver a stunning performance before the winter transfer window closes—or if he fails to convince those wealthy clubs to bite the bullet and pay at least 20 million—he will be stuck in the embarrassing position of having to stay at 1860 Munich, with nowhere else to go. It is not that other teams aren't interested in him, but at this price, they either lack the funds or simply do not see the value.

As for other offers, 1860 Munich won't even consider them. And Porto? Even Jose Mourinho is in a tight spot now because the Porto board has changed its tune. "36 million euros? For Mo Mo? Are you joking? We are Porto, the 'black shop'—we don't make losing deals. Who knows if we could ever sell him for a higher price later?" Every club understands that this current price tag is merely the result of Chelsea (and Roman Abramovich) being new to the football scene, inexperienced, and throwing money around. It doesn't reflect actual long-term value.

So, Mo Mo’s situation is awkward. Aside from the absurdly high valuation, all he can do now is work hard to score goals. Every goal is worth its weight in gold—that is the only way to describe Mo Mo’s current state.

"The match has officially begun. Hello everyone, I am Chen Nu. Borussia Dortmund has been incredibly sharp this season, and the atmosphere in their home stadium tonight is so intense that even I feel a bit of a tremor from behind the screen." As he said this, Chen Nu put on a look of mock terror.

"Dortmund has won the opening kick. The international football world has been in a whirlwind lately, with rumors about Mo Mo’s transfer echoing everywhere. You could say there’s nothing but noise, but among it all, the most common sentiment is skepticism—can Mo Mo truly live up to his price tag?"

"In fact, most people argue that Mo Mo is currently overpriced. Chelsea is effectively using money to force him into a move, and because 1860 Munich is buried in debt, they are helping to pressure their own rising star to leave. It’s truly ridiculous!"

However, just as Chen Nu laughed while calling it ridiculous, the situation on the pitch changed in an instant.

"A steal by Sebastian Kehl! Dortmund’s reaction is lightning fast—1860 Munich’s defense has been shredded! Beautiful! Dortmund is moving the ball quickly! Rosicky! Tomas Rosicky has the ball!"

Dortmund launched an attack right from the start, maintaining high speed and excellent formation. Although 1860 Munich’s players managed to strip the ball away shortly after kickoff, Dortmund’s quick recovery brought it right back to their feet. Kehl controlled the ball with a precise tackle, and after a series of quick passes with his teammates, he slipped it to Rosicky.

"Rosicky with a diagonal ball! A cross toward the edge of the box. It’s a bit high! Two 1860 Munich players jump to challenge for it, but neither can reach the ball." Chen Nu’s tone was playful, but the next moment caught him completely off guard.

"Number 9, Jan Koller! My god! At over two meters tall, he’s like a monster! Shao Jiayi is tracking back! This is disastrous!"

Jan Koller’s height was staggering. When he leaped, it felt like a volcanic eruption, overwhelming everything in its path. No one could hold him back!

Shao Jiayi looked pitifully small next to Koller, pushed aside as if he were being shoved by a force of nature, unable to hold his ground. "Koller is so strong, so tall! What will he do? A dribble? My god!"

Although Koller was a giant, he possessed a delicate touch and excellent footwork. Of course, while his technique was sound, speed was not his primary strength. Koller used his back to pin Shao Jiayi, applied a slight bit of pressure, and Shao Jiayi was "bumped" away as if he were acting in a play.

At that moment, the entire stadium began to hum. The Dortmund fans in the stands transformed into a frenzied swarm of bees. They seemed to know exactly what was coming. By now, Koller had stepped into the penalty area. The 1860 Munich center-backs rushed forward to intercept.

But then, a loud "thud" echoed out. Koller struck the ball directly from the edge of the box, with no intention of moving any closer. The Dortmund fans, sensing the outcome the moment Koller wound up his leg, roared in unison as his foot connected with the ball.

For a fleeting second, the 1860 Munich players felt as if they were surrounded by enemies on all sides, trapped in a tightening circle. Their heads were filled with a deafening roar. Simon Jentzsch widened his eyes—perhaps it was an illusion, but it seemed as if the ball itself warped in the air for an instant. The ball whistled toward the goal, as if intending to crush anyone who dared to stand in its way.

The Dortmund fans were cheering and jumping, as if they had been waiting for this exact moment. Simon Jentzsch let out a desperate cry and threw his entire body into a dive.

Another earth-shattering roar erupted, and for a moment, the entire stadium seemed to spiral out of control.