Chapter 75 – Attempt to Respond
The second half began.
Real Madrid didn't ease in.
From the very first whistle, they surged forward as though the dressing room had unlocked a deeper gear. Like a beast freshly wounded and now bloodthirsty, they pounced, pressing as if insulted by the very notion of a 1–1 scoreline.
Tchouaméni zipped a pass into Mbappé's feet. The Frenchman barely needed a touch—he flicked it wide with terrifying precision.
Vinícius was already sprinting.
"Hah!" he exhaled.
Wan-Bissaka waited, stance low. One dribble—
"Chk!"
Then another—
"Chk-chk!"
Then—boom!—a third!
Wan-Bissaka twisted, feet tangled, and dropped to the turf like a snapped branch.
"Oi!" Bruno shouted from midfield, but it was too late.
Vini's low cross carved through the box.
Mbappé could've shot. Anyone else would've. But he didn't. He headed it backwards, a moment of genius, flicking it straight into Rodrygo's stride.
Martínez lunged. Shaw stepped.
Too late.
