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Chapter 196 - Chapter 196

"Good evening, everyone! And welcome to the Theatre of Dreams!" Peter Drury's voice boomed, echoing the electric atmosphere inside the stadium.

"Tonight, the eyes of the world are fixed on Manchester. We are broadcasting the second leg of the 2017-18 Champions League semifinal!"

"Manchester United versus AS Roma!"

"The Gladiators have traveled from the Eternal City to the rainy north of England. All players are in position. Let's take a look at the starting lineups for both teams."

"In the famous red home jerseys are Manchester United, lining up in a 4-2-3-1 formation," Jim Beglin analyzed.

"Romelu Lukaku suffered a minor strain in the last match and will need three to five days to recover, so he's not in the squad tonight. The lion, Zlatan Ibrahimovic, will start as the central striker today."

"Compared to the home leg, Eusebio Di Francesco has abandoned the dual-striker setup and started the impressive Cengiz Ünder," Beglin noted.

"The current aggregate score is 2–1, with Man United leading. They hold two away goals, so I believe Mourinho will adopt a relatively conservative approach, focusing on defensive counterattacks," Beglin predicted.

Drury chimed in, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "In a recent interview, Ibrahimović stated that he would leave Manchester United at the end of the season. This could be his final European night at Old Trafford."

"Looking back at Man United's treble last season, he made 28 appearances and scored 17 goals. To exaggerate a little, he carried the team on his back through the dark winter months."

"Let's wish him the best in his final days here and hope he showcases the brilliance of Zlatan one last time!"

The away section erupted with thunderous cheers from the Roma fans—this expeditionary force from the Apennines was eager to create another miracle like they did against Barcelona!

"Alright, the referee blows the whistle—the match is officially underway!"

The match kicked off, and the time flew by.

After Man United's kickoff, Roma's formation pressed forward slightly, organizing their press in an orderly manner.

Facing little pressure with a lead from the first leg, Man United didn't rush their attacks but patiently circulated the ball in the midfield and defense, inviting Roma to press.

It was indeed dull for the neutrals, perhaps.

Some Roma fans even cursed aloud—clearly, United were the dominant side on paper, yet they resorted to such pragmatic and "disgraceful" tactics.

They had long grown accustomed to it.

Compared to David Moyes's endless "long ball to the striker" or Louis Van Gaal's hypnotic "possession circles," this was at least effective.

Given Man United's current midfielders none possessed the foundational ball control to orchestrate play through a congested midfield like Paul Scholes used to.

They had to bypass midfield transitions entirely, delivering the ball directly to the forwards.

Mourinho's decision proved correct.

He avoided unnecessary flair, opting instead for a decisive diagonal long ball strategy.

After several dismal seasons since Ferguson left, the fans had come to terms with their reality. But now, hope was rekindled.

After all, as a rising star at Man United, Ling carried the hopes of countless fans.

More diligent training, more meticulous post-match analysis.

Coupled with his inherent talent, this accelerated Ling's growth at an ever-increasing pace.

Even in the unfamiliar role of right winger earlier in the season, he gradually developed his own style.

Someone had risen unstoppably, not only gradually securing the starting left winger position but even donning the prestigious No. 7 jersey.

Meanwhile.

Since that heart-to-heart with Mourinho, Marcus Rashford began to confront himself honestly.

There was even a widely circulated remark among supporters earlier.

"I never saw Ronaldo at 18, but I've seen Rashford at 18."

The quote echoed in the minds of the fans.

21st minute of the match.

In the end, it was Di Francesco who lost patience.

With a wave of his hand, Roma's formation surged forward aggressively.

After a series of passes, the ball reached Pogba's feet deep in his own half.

Strootman fell for the feint, committing his weight to block, only to realize his grave mistake.

"Brilliant! A fake shot turned into a pass!" Drury shouted.

Smack!

The ball whistled past Strootman.

But what followed was truly unexpected.

The football soared like a cruise missile from the boot of David De Gea, precisely dropping toward the right flank.

The cheers of the Roma fans were instantly drowned out, replaced by the rising roars of the Man United supporters.

Rashford immediately accelerated to hold his position, engaging in a fierce physical duel with Juan Jesus.

Rashford left Jesus behind, driving down the flank along the touchline like a sprinter.

Unfazed, Rashford accelerated diagonally into the penalty area, feigning a shot.

Was there a chance to shoot directly?

Certainly, yes.

But Alisson Becker had already positioned himself in advance, blocking most of the shooting space, and Manolas behind him was also clever, having already eased off to tackle from the side.

Kevin Strootman retreated straight into the penalty area, blocking most passing lanes.

After all, as a right-footed player playing on the left, Rashford rarely cut inside to shoot in this setup.

It seemed as if many scenes flashed through Rashford's mind.

Since that foggy morning, he had developed a habit—watching Ling train.

The pursuit of a perfect first touch, ghostly and nimble movement, and never-ceasing footsteps.

It reminded him of his former self.

Ibrahimović held off Kostas Manolas's interference, swiftly scanning the field with the eyes of a veteran predator.

In truth, when Zlatan had decided to leave earlier, what he regretted most was parting with Ling.

He had dearly wanted to witness the young man's rise.

But Zlatan remained who he was.

Despite his burly and powerful physique, his feet could play the violin.

Despite his unwavering focus on football, his heart was restless and unsettled.

Under the gaze of thousands.

Just as Peter Drury had anticipated.

Ibrahimović slightly lifted his right foot and, at the moment of contact, gently swung it backward—a scorpion flick!

The football instantly changed its trajectory, drifting past Manolas from behind.

A red figure surged forward at high speed!

A white figure followed closely behind!

Federico Fazio kept a close watch on Ling's every move.

As the player with the most tackles in the Roma squad, he was extremely confident in his defensive skills.

And precisely because of this, he had been shifted to the right center-back position.

The goal was to lock down Ling!

When he saw Ling's right foot lift high, he threw his entire body forward without hesitation, lunging to intercept the ball.

Thwack!

But in his line of sight, the football had vanished!

As if anticipating it in advance, Ibrahimović instinctively glanced to the side of Fazio, where the football lay quietly at Ling's feet.

The air seemed to freeze, and time stood still.

Hundreds of spotlights shone down, illuminating the pitch as if it were daytime.

Everyone's gaze was fixed on Man United's number 7.

Suddenly.

Ling's right foot swung fiercely, his toes jabbing forward with force—a predator's finish!

Thwack!

A crisp sound shattered the silence, and the football whistled out immediately.

Even as Alisson stretched his body to the limit, he still couldn't touch the ball, forced to watch helplessly as his own goal was breached.

1-0!!!

"Man United are in scorching form!" Drury roared. "They capitalized on Roma's high defensive line and the gaps left behind, taking the lead with a devastating counter-attack!"

"Let's take another look at the goal replay!" Beglin urged.

"Rashford, Ibrahimović, and Ling—the trio delivered a flawless performance in the cramped penalty area!"

"After being tempered by victory, Man United have been completely transformed!"

The aggregate score now stood at 3-1.

Roma needed to score at least two more goals just to force the match into extra time.

The mountain had just become Everest.

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