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Now reading: Chapter 199 - 199 from Start with R9 Template, a Drama novel by Pinkpussy.

The ball curved around the wall before dipping sharply and nestling into the top right corner of the net.

Modrić gave a thumbs-up, then quietly gathered his belongings and left without disturbing Ronaldo further.

Karim Benzema sighed inexplicably from the bench, wondering when his ti to shine would co.

He truly didn't want to remain a supporting actor forever.

Dani Carvajal stared at Ronaldo's retreating figure.

He was determined to neutralize that Man United No.7 in the Champions League final and help Real Madrid secure victory.

He hoped to be rembered as Real Madrid's greatest fullback, bar none.

This three-peat was absolutely essential.

Casemiro's chubby face glistened with sweat as he walked alongside Sergio Ramos, engaged in deep conversation.

Zinedine Zidane gazed at his Real Madrid players, brimming with confidence about the final.

Every position featured a top-three player in the world—who could tell him how they might lose?

Soon, only one figure remained on the training ground, accompanied by the continuous, dull thuds of ball striking net.

Many might think he was past his pri.

But to him, this was rely the beginning.

The real challenges and glory lay ahead, waiting to be conquered.

....

Post-match press conference.

"Mr. Mourinho, although Man United secured the victory, the team's final performance was poor—parking the bus and playing defensively. Many fans have expressed dissatisfaction with this approach?"

The reporter from The Sun knew how to stir controversy.

Mourinho cast him a cold glance.

"Perhaps my football isn't the style you prefer, but it's the approach most likely to bring success. I don't need to design tactics based on your preferences."

"You've never lost a European final in your managerial career. Are you confident about this season's Champions League final?"

The reporter from The Guardian asked a more asured question.

"Of course. I manage the world's biggest club, I'm the world's best manager, and I have the world's best players. I believe we can win the championship."

The mont Mourinho finished speaking, the room erupted in murmurs.

The journalists had expected more modesty from the Man United manager, not what sounded like a premature victory declaration.

Yet none could refute him.

From his breakthrough at Porto, to subsequent stints at Chelsea, Real Madrid, Inter Milan, and beyond, trophies had followed Mourinho wherever he went.

He possessed a unique team-building philosophy and the most resilient defensive concepts in football.

Even if frequently criticized for being overly conservative, who could deny his achievents?

Setting aside past accomplishnts, this season alone he had led Man United to surpass Man City and claim the top spot in the standings.

In the Champions League, they had battled through, defeating Jupp Heynckes' Bayern Munich and overcoming Barcelona's conquerors, Roma.

No one would choose to question him at this mont, because fighting an uphill battle is exhausting.

When a reporter asked about the league title race, Mourinho said seriously, "In ten days at Old Trafford, I will make the Man United fans celebrate wildly."

...

In another conference room, Eusebio Di Francesco maintained his dignity despite the loss.

"In sports, if you only consider the spiritual aspect, there are no losers!"

"Listen to the loud singing from the away stands—it left a deep impression on every Roma fan."

"It represents the never-give-up sports spirit and the team spirit of standing by you regardless of win or loss."

"I am very satisfied with the performance of the Roma players."

"No miracle? No, no, we have already created a miracle. Coming back against Barcelona is the best proof."

"Ling? He is an excellent player. I think no manager would turn him down, and I look forward to his performance in the Champions League final."

"Although I co from a science background, I have a feeling he will bring us a big surprise."

——

At The Ivy bar in downtown Manchester.

Ling lay in a comfortable, soft booth, taking a sip of a low-alcohol cocktail.

It was called Buck's Fizz, made from champagne and orange juice, refreshing and light.

anwhile, Lingard beside him was clutching a bottle of vodka, swaying his head to heavy tal music.

Since Man United's next match was on May 13th, Mourinho had unusually given them a day off.

After discussing, they decided to go out and have so fun.

Ling also cleared his mind, savoring the aftertaste of victory, much like the cocktail in his glass.

Balancing work and rest.

If life consisted only of rigorous training, the tension would eventually snap, so it was important to enjoy life when possible.

Ling planned to move out of the dormitory next season and find a place closer to the training base.

Before he knew it, an hour had passed.

As Ling was settling the bill at the counter, he suddenly spotted a familiar face.

Kyle Walker?

The Manchester City defender seed heavily drunk, staggering over with a bottle in hand.

Seeing this, Ling took a few steps back, not wanting to get vomited on by Walker.

Unexpectedly, Walker suddenly changed direction and lunged at a girl nearby.

Startled, she instinctively moved backward.

Ling gently steadied the girl and frowned deeply.

He had read in the news before that Walker had poor drinking habits and often harassed strangers when drunk.

Most importantly, the guy had a wife and children.

Walker wasn't done yet, continuing to stagger over, waving his arms.

Ling disliked such people and decided not to back down anymore, stepping forward to confront him.

Before Ling even applied any force, Walker lost his balance, fell to the ground, and let out a pained cry.

Seeing this, the Man City players nearby imdiately rushed over without a word.

The Man United players naturally didn't lag behind.

David De Gea glanced at the girl beside them and said with a teasing look.

"Not bad, Ling! Playing the hero saving the beauty, huh?"

Ling forced a bitter smile but didn't respond.

Bar patrons quickly pulled out their phones, eager to record the third clash between Man United and Man City this season.

The hot-tempered Leroy Sané was about to step forward and confront them when Kevin De Bruyne suddenly grabbed his arm.

He knew what Kyle Walker was like, but he couldn't interfere with his teammate's private life, though it didn't stop him from disliking Walker's behavior.

Moreover, his eyes were sharp.

"Maria, what happened?" De Bruyne spoke up, recognizing the girl.

It was Pep Guardiola's daughter.

The girl wearing a tight floral spaghetti strap dress that left nothing to the imagination gave the prone Walker a hard kick.

"I'll be telling my father about this."

The Man City players exchanged glances, imdiately sensing trouble.

Despite Guardiola's outwardly easygoing deanor, when he lashed out, he showed no rcy, reminiscent of Ferguson's infamous "hairdryer treatnt."

They might all get dragged into this.

Everyone knew Guardiola had been particularly volatile lately after falling behind in the league and suffering Champions League elimination.

Now this had to happen.

Still, they were grateful to Ling.

If he hadn't intervened, who knows what Walker might have done? There could have been irreversible consequences.

Like being charged with assault if police got involved, possibly even facing jail ti.

Several players quickly helped Walker up and quietly left the bar.

The Man United players were confused but tactfully dispersed.

Maria walked up to Ling and said softly, "Thank you."

"It was the right thing to do." Ling replied with a smile before continuing to settle the bill.

Their tab ca to £15,000—even with his current weekly wage ranking top five in the squad, he couldn't help wincing at the amount.

After paying, Ling nodded to Maria and walked out of the bar yawning.

"Jeremy, you're just leaving like that?"

Pogba stared in disbelief, his worldview shaken. "That was Guardiola's daughter!"

Lingard, Lukaku, and others were similarly affected, their expressions growing increasingly peculiar.

Kovacic crossed his arms nervously. "Jeremy, you don't actually like—"

"Piss off! Don't question my sexuality!" Ling snapped irritably.

After finishing the match, he was completely exhausted—hardly in any state for other thoughts.

Besides, while everyone else had tomorrow off, he still had to submit his match analysis to Mourinho.

He needed to get up early to review the ga.

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