The foul on the flank triggered a full-scale confrontation. Salah lay on the ground in obvious pain.
Leo Lin charged straight at the Manchester United players, and the rest of Liverpool followed without hesitation—this was a derby tradition.
Watching his teammates surge forward, Salah felt an overwhelming sense of security.
"Leo Lin may be young, but he shows absolutely no fear when facing Manchester United's big names!"
"Some Manchester United fans are throwing beer, eggs, and other objects onto the pitch—the situation is becoming extremely chaotic!"
In the stands, pockets of Liverpool and Manchester United supporters became entangled, on the verge of erupting into violence.
On and off the pitch, the air was thick with gunpowder.
The red smoke flares lit by United fans grew denser, clouding the stadium and drifting onto the field. Klopp even had to cover his mouth and nose.
Stewards began confiscating the red smoke from the crowd to prevent the situation from spiraling further out of control.
The fourth official and the assistant referees rushed in, trying to separate the players. Matić grabbed Leo Lin by the collar and refused to let go—but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't move the young man an inch.
Leo Lin braced himself against both Matić and Herrera, pushing United's players back together with his teammates. His face was full of provocation, even carrying a faint smile—there was no sign of fear at all.
The referee showed Ashley Young a yellow card to calm things down, then held the card in hand as he warned the surrounding players still trying to stir trouble.
"If anyone wants another yellow, keep provoking. I won't hesitate!"
Only then did Leo Lin release his grip. He immediately put on an innocent expression, flashing a smile perfectly suited to an eighteen-year-old, and complained to the referee.
"Ref, they attacked me!"
"They're bullying me because I'm only eighteen. I'm scared!"
Matić was stunned. How did the villain become the victim?
He had rushed over intending to protect Ashley Young, only to end up grabbed by Leo Lin and completely unable to push him away.
"Eighteen?" Matić said with a bitter smile, pointing at Leo Lin. "Ref, does he look eighteen to you?"
Atkinson chuckled, and the confrontation finally subsided.
Play resumed, but Manchester United continued to provoke constantly. Small fouls and sneaky contact disrupted Liverpool again and again, breaking the rhythm of the match.
"This is classic Mourinho football."
"Whether at Inter, Chelsea, or Real Madrid, Mourinho's teams are always defined by physical, aggressive defending."
"Especially against stronger opponents, this approach is very effective at limiting attacking play."
"Liverpool looked sluggish in their opening match this season, but they were excellent in the second, showing real attacking firepower."
"Mourinho will definitely want to use this style to shut Liverpool down."
Seventeenth minute!
De Gea launched a long ball straight down the middle toward Lukaku. Lovren met it with a precise header into midfield.
Henderson stepped in quickly, shielding the ball with his back to goal before laying it off to Wijnaldum.
Leo Lin surged forward with long strides, making a diagonal run. After receiving Wijnaldum's pass, he twisted away, turned, and instantly switched play to Mané on the left.
Mané controlled and burst past Valencia in one motion—like a dagger straight into the penalty area!
"What a chance!"
"Mané into the box! He shoots!"
"De Gea with a brilliant save!"
"He spreads his right leg and blocks it out for a corner!"
"Leo Lin's pass was incredibly incisive, splitting the channel and finding Mané's forward run."
"Unlucky—the angle was just too tight. If that were Agüero, maybe the odds of scoring would've been higher."
Mané didn't score, but United now fully felt the danger Leo Lin posed in midfield. Mourinho's eyes flickered—no gestures needed. Matić immediately understood. He was Mourinho's trusted enforcer.
Corner kick. Mané sent it toward the middle.
Firmino was about to meet it, but De Gea rushed out and claimed the ball.
With a powerful throw, he released Ashley Young downfield. Young lacked dribbling ability, but his passing—especially those trademark long, arcing balls—was precise.
Sure enough, after bringing it under control, he clipped a high, curling pass to the left, finding Martial.
Martial cushioned it with his chest, nudged it forward, then sprinted at full speed—no glance up, just a powerful square ball across the box!
A low cross!
A chance at the near post—Lukaku arrived and swung!
But he misjudged it completely.
His left foot swept past the ball, missing it entirely, almost as if he were shooting at thin air.
Mignolet dived forward and gathered it. United fans gasped in disbelief, while Liverpool supporters pointed at Lukaku and burst into laughter.
"So this is the Belgian striker with 'elite finishing'?"
"How much did United pay for him—£80 million?"
"I'm sick of it! Absolutely sick of Lukaku playing poorly every week while acting like he's some unstoppable force!"
On the touchline, Mourinho's face turned ashen—he looked like he was searching for a reasonable excuse to slap Lukaku.
Liverpool regained possession. Mignolet calmly rolled the ball out to the right.
Arnold collected it, slowing the tempo and advancing steadily.
Leo Lin glanced around and spotted Firmino dropping deep to offer support. A clear attacking route instantly formed in his mind.
Play it to Firmino, get the return, then sweep it out to the left—United's defense would be split open again.
With that in mind, Leo Lin accelerated toward the touchline, calling for the ball.
Arnold didn't hesitate and slid a low pass across.
Just as Leo Lin received it and began to turn, Matić slammed in from the side!
He wasn't going for the ball—he was going straight for the man.
The impact crashed into Leo Lin's waist.
Caught completely off guard, Leo Lin was finally knocked to the ground.
A sharp pain shot through his side. The referee rushed over and immediately showed a yellow card—but Liverpool weren't about to let their teammate be bullied.
Firmino charged in and drove his forehead straight into Matić's head!
"A mass confrontation erupts again!"
"Leo Lin's been taken out from the side—Matić went straight for the waist. That's a dirty challenge!"
Leo Lin lay on the ground clutching his side. Fortunately, it was only a blunt impact. After rubbing it a few times, the pain gradually faded.
He struggled back to his feet as the referee booked Firmino and Lukaku—both had played provocative roles in the chaos.
Before the first half was even over, three players had already been shown yellow cards.
Leo Lin's gaze toward Matić had clearly changed.
He wasn't letting that one go.
Thirty-first minute!
"De Gea again with a long ball down the middle!"
"Matić goes up for the flick-on!"
Just as Matić leapt, a dark shadow rose behind him.
Leo Lin powered up first, winning the header cleanly!
Then, with sheer brute strength, he forced Matić off balance in midair!
Leo Lin was gambling—betting that Matić would try something dirty.
And sure enough, Matić did, pushing hard in the air to knock him over.
But that was exactly what Leo Lin was waiting for. Matić made the first move, turning it into a legitimate aerial duel.
Leo Lin exploded with power, smashing through and sending Matić tumbling!
As Matić spun helplessly in the air, it was as if he heard a whisper—like a demon murmuring in his ear.
"Enjoy what comes next."
"BOOM!!!"