No pursuit of angles, no pursuit of curve—just relying on ferocious power to score, perfectly illustrating what aesthetic violence truly means.
The stadium fell silent for a full ten seconds, followed by roaring cheers that seemed capable of lifting the roof, as if proclaiming to the world the surge of emotions in their hearts.
Manchester United fans watched the young man leaping and punching the air on the pitch, resembling a classical hero or an untamed God of War.
High in the gantry, Peter Drury's voice was filled with reverence.
"Unique! Passionate! Persistent! Resilient! It is hard not to love such a player!"
"Everyone knows Man United's true strength—reaching this stage is already a miracle! How can they compete against Real Madrid, with their back-to-back Champions League pedigree?"
"The answer is to give everything! Let's carefully recall this goal—Ling's return to the pitch with a wrist injury, losing balance after Ramos' foul, supporting himself with his already injured wrist, channeling all his strength and desire into the football, and unleashing a stunning world wave goal!"
Jim Beglin added, "Whether this shot would have gone in otherwise remains unknown, but there's no denying the sheer power behind it. Ramos played a dangerous game, and he got burned."
Ronaldo stood near the center circle with his hands on his hips, hair soaked with sweat and plastered to his forehead, his expression serious as he pondered something.
This scene struck a chord deep within him.
It reminded him of his younger self.
Ling basked in the joy of scoring, surrounded by his teammates.
After the celebration concluded, the referee approached Sergio Ramos and showed him a yellow card for the earlier foul.
"Honestly, if that shot hadn't gone in, Ramos' clear obstruction could have easily warranted a red card," Beglin noted.
Ramos spat in frustration.
He glanced toward the substitutes' bench, where Nacho, Theo Hernandez, and Lucas Vázquez sat.
Among them, only Nacho could play as a center-back, but he had a fatal flaw: his irreparable height disadvantage.
If Ramos were to leave the pitch, Real Madrid's aerial defense would be severely compromised.
So, Ramos stayed, nursing his swollen wrist.
On the sidelines, Zinedine Zidane's grave expression showed he'd recognized the problem too.
Keylor Navas grimaced while clutching his own wrist.
He hadn't expected Ling to shoot directly, leaving him too little reaction time to properly launch into his diving save.
Why has Real Madrid persistently pursued David De Gea? This is the main reason—they feel they need a goalkeeper with that extra inch of reach.
...
Usually adept at tactical adjustments, Zidane now looked lost, uncertain how to change things.
After some thought, he decided to maintain the current approach.
Perhaps, as before, some inexplicable mystical power would emerge!
On the other side, Man United substitutes remained immersed in celebratory excitement.
Mateo Kovacic watched his former teammates with mixed feelings.
At least at Man United, he could see hope.
"Boss, what adjustments now?" Rui Faria took several deep breaths to calm his excitement.
"With Carvajal's declining form, Real Madrid's right-side attacks have noticeably weakened. They're relying heavily on left-side assaults now!" Mourinho analyzed rapidly.
"So swap Ling and Lingard's positions. Let's fight fire with fire—use our own attack to suppress theirs!"
"At the same time, shift the entire formation to the right side, placing the main attacking point in the right half-space. Whenever there's an opportunity, target Ramos—his wrist injury is very serious, much worse than Ling's!"
Mourinho sketched a simple diagram on the tactical note, then called Nemanja Matic to the sideline and handed it to him.
Casemiro quietly crept over, craning his neck to sneak a peek at the note, but Ander Herrera saw through him, forcing him to play dumb and scratch his head sheepishly.
Soon the match resumed.
Although Man United had equalized, Real Madrid remained unfazed.
Their belief in eventual victory remained unshaken.
Through both favorable and adverse situations, they had always navigated dangers and emerged stronger.
Every Real Madrid player believed they could lift the Champions League trophy once again!
Meanwhile, the Man United players had reached this stage through resilience and ample quality.
Moreover, having just equalized, their morale was at its peak.
After implementing tactical adjustments, Man United balanced the offensive and defensive intensity on both flanks.
Jesse Lingard harried Luka Modrić, preventing him from easily pushing forward to attack.
Ling positioned himself wide on the right flank, forcing Toni Kroos to split his attention defensively.
Both teams seemed to tacitly reduce their attacking intensity, frequently probing during transitions without committing everyone to all-out attacks.
It appeared the first half would end this way.
But as stoppage time arrived, the situation on the pitch shifted dramatically!
With two of Real Madrid's three defensive midfielders restricted, only one free man remained: Casemiro.
This actually aligned perfectly with Zidane's plan.
As one of football's finest defensive midfielders, Casemiro possessed more than just exceptional defensive skills.
His understanding of pitch dynamics allowed him to choose optimal moments and routes for forward runs.
His long-range shots after bursting from deep were particularly lethal!
After dispossessing Romelu Lukaku, he immediately played a diagonal pass to Isco ahead and swiftly surged forward to support.
Casemiro and Isco formed diagonal attacking positions.
Simultaneously, Ronaldo dropped into midfield to receive, while Benzema made a direct diagonal run into the penalty area.
The ball traveled in a curved path through continuous circulation, bypassing Man United's midfield before arcing through the air toward the left flank.
Marcelo overlapped at full speed.
As if his feet were coated with glue, he controlled the ball perfectly in front of him.
Antonio Valencia was marking him!
"Three Marcelos couldn't stop one Marcelo!" Drury cried. "The Brazilian DNA ingrained in his bones!"
"Two step-overs in succession, bulldozing past the defender from the outside!"
"Brilliant! He sweeps the ball toward the edge of the box!"
"Ronaldo follows up with a shot!"
Amid Real Madrid fans' roaring cheers, the ball skimmed across the turf toward the goal!
At the critical moment!
Eric Bailly decisively stretched his leg in a sliding challenge, extending his body to the limit and deflecting the ball with his toe!
The ball rolled out of the penalty area once more, into unoccupied space.
Sprinting into the frame was Real Madrid's number 14!
Casemiro!
A child whose early life was filled with endless hardships.
A teenager who couldn't even afford 20-cent Yakult.
A player once mocked for being arrogant, greedy, and lazy.
After joining Real Madrid, Mourinho promoted him to the first team, Rafa Benítez gave him numerous playing opportunities, and Zidane molded him into a world-class midfielder!
Thus, he was determined to give everything for Real Madrid.
He needed a goal—one that would decide the match!
Under the gaze of tens of thousands of fans in the stadium.
He charged forward with tiger-like ferocity, swinging his leg to meet the ball!
Bang!
With a thunderous crack, the ball soared past Man United's defense, grazed De Gea's fingertips, and buried itself in the net!
2-1!
"OH MY GOODNESS ME!" Peter Drury roared.
"FROM DISTANCE! CASEMIRO HAS ABSOLUTELY THUMPED IT!"
"The script had long been written: Real Madrid were the protagonists penning this legend! Just minutes after conceding, they breached Man United's goal in identical fashion, scoring a strike that crushed the Red Devils' hopes!"
The Kiev Olympic Stadium erupted into absolute frenzy once more.
"Hala Madrid!"
"Hala Madrid!"
"Hala Madrid!"
The deafening chants swelled every eardrum in the stadium.
Amid the electric atmosphere, Casemiro sprinted dozens of meters before sliding into a passionate knee-slide.
He had shattered all doubts!
When future generations speak of Real Madrid's three-peat, his name would forever be inseparable from that glory.
Casemiro thought to himself that he'd drink a few extra bottles of Yakult after the match.
Jim Beglin sighed, "In the dying moments of stoppage time, Real Madrid retake the lead through Casemiro's long-range strike! Man United have their heroes, and so do Real Madrid. So long as you possess the resilience to defy adversity, you can step up and turn the tide!"
"Witnessing the ball roll into their own net, Man United's players couldn't help but feel a flicker of doubt—would they concede every time they equalized?"
"What was the point of fighting back, then?"
Even Man United fans sensed darkness creeping over the horizon, viewing this Real Madrid side as an insurmountable force.
On the touchline, Zidane smiled, though not without a trace of astonishment.
He never expected the plot to unfold this way—not only navigating Real Madrid safely through a perilous phase but also granting him more room for adjustments.
Meanwhile, the opposing dugout sank into prolonged silence.
Mourinho's expression darkened by the second, his frustration simmering with a visceral urge to vent.
He pressed his hands against the bench in the coach's box, gripping so hard his knuckles turned white.
But he knew he had to remain calm, because if even he lost his composure, he would personally extinguish Man United's last hope.