[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-start-with-r9-template":3,"chapter-start-with-r9-template-start-with-r9-template-chapter-127":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Start with R9 Template",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1388728,1840,"Chapter 127 - 127","start-with-r9-template-chapter-127",127,"\u003Cp>On the sidelines, Vincenzo Montella spat a glob of saliva onto the turf, his eyes narrowing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was a man under immense pressure.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since Unai Emery left, the Sevilla managerial seat had been an ejector seat. Sampaoli left for Argentina; Berizzo was sacked for poor results.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Montella had arrived in December, but his league form was erratic. The board was already sharpening their knives.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If he failed in the Champions League, he knew he was next.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Focus!\" Montella screamed, cupping his hands. \"United only has one defensive pivot! Overload the middle! Make them suffer!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He pointed frantically at Ling. \"And tell Banega and Navas—learn your lesson! Do not get tight to the Number 7! Give him a yard, or he will spin you again!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the other bench, Mourinho wasn't celebrating the lead. He was frowning, his tactical mind racing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sensed a disturbance in the force.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>12th Minute\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The match resumed, and Sevilla executed Montella's plan with surgical precision.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wingers, Correa and Sarabia, dropped deep into the half-spaces. This dragged United's fullbacks inside. Simultaneously, Sevilla's fullbacks, Navas and Escudero, pushed high, acting like wingers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a flood. A sharp wedge driven straight at the heart of United's 4-3-3.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They targeted Nemanja Matic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With McTominay caught upfield trying to press, and Pogba drifting wide, Matic was left alone to cover the entire width of the pitch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"They are overloading the central channel,\" Neville noted nervously.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sevilla pushed forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>McTominay scrambled back to cover, but he was too late. He was caught in no-man's land.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Steven Nzonzi saw the gap on United's left. He didn't hesitate. He carved an exquisite outside-of-the-boot pass out to the wing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whoosh.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ball bypassed the entire United midfield, landing perfectly in the stride of Jesus Navas.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Ramón Sánchez-Pizjuán erupted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Navas had space. Ashley Young was caught narrow, marking Sarabia.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Navas drove to the byline. He looked up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Luis Muriel was making a darting run across the near post, dragging Smalling with him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the ball wasn't for him. It was a cut-back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Navas whipped a low, fizzing cross into the corridor of uncertainty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Luis Muriel, adjusting his run brilliantly, threw himself at the ball.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Slide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He got a toe on it before De Gea could react.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ball squeezed inside the near post.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>1-1!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Sevilla equalize!\" Martin Tyler shouted. \"Just twelve minutes after conceding! The Fortress strikes back!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"It was too easy,\" Neville groaned. \"They pulled United apart. They shifted the attack, isolated Matic, and exploited the space behind Young. That is a tactical failure from United.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Muriel sprinted toward the Biris Norte ultras, basking in the roar of 42,000 Andalusians.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The noise was deafening, a physical wave of sound that made the United players' eardrums throb.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On the touchline, Montella adjusted his suit cuffs and shot a provocative glance toward the away dugout.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He felt a surge of superiority.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As a player at Roma, Montella had watched Mourinho's Inter Milan dominate Italy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had seen the \"Special One\" at his peak, winning the Treble. But looking at the man now—with his snow-white hair and conservative tactics—Montella felt the balance of power shifting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'You are old now, Jose,' Montella thought, a smirk playing on his lips.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>'The game has evolved. The future belongs to us.'\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mourinho, staring intently at the pitch, had no idea about Montella's rich inner monologue.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And even if he did, he wouldn't care.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To Mourinho, Montella was a manager whose greatest achievement was an Italian Super Cup—a trophy with less prestige than the Audi Cup.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mourinho was focused on the problem.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The 4-3-3.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It created vertical space for Ling, yes. But it left the team naked defensively.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>McTominay was working hard, but his positional awareness wasn't elite yet. He couldn't plug the gaps alone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mourinho didn't hesitate. He wasn't a manager who waited until the 60th minute to admit a mistake.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He strode to the technical area, whistling sharply.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Paul! Scott! Change it!\" Mourinho signaled with his hands. \"4-2-3-1! Two pivots!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The message filtered onto the pitch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Oh, look at this,\" Tyler analyzed. \"Lukaku is now the lone striker. Matic and Pogba have dropped deep to form a double pivot. McTominay has pushed up to the Number 10 position.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Mourinho has abandoned the 4-3-3 immediately. He is plugging the hole.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The shift worked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With Pogba sitting deeper alongside Matic, the central channel was sealed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ashley Young and Valencia could stay wider, dealing with Navas and Escudero without fear of being overrun inside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sevilla tried to repeat the overload, but they ran into a red wall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Peep-peep!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The referee blew for the break.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The score remained 1-1.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the dressing room, Mourinho was calm but direct.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"My mistake,\" Mourinho said, holding his hands up. \"I tried to be clever with the shape. It didn't work. We were too open.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The players respected the honesty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We go back to basics,\" Mourinho continued, drawing on the whiteboard. \"Defensive stability first. From the defensive midfield, we go straight to the wings. Bypass the middle.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He looked at Ling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Ling, use the full width. Stay wide. Isolate Navas. If he gets tight, spin him. If he stands off, drive at him.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Romelu,\" Mourinho pointed to the striker. \"Drift left. Drag the center-back with you. Switch positions with Ling in the half-spaces. Confusion creates chances.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"We have the away goal,\" Mourinho reminded them. \"A 1-1 draw is a good result. But we can win this.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Come on!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The players stacked their hands.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"UNITED!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>...\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The teams emerged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The atmosphere was still hostile, but United looked more settled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their structure was rigid but familiar.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>52nd Minute\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Paul Pogba, operating from deep, looked up. He saw the movement.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He launched a heat-seeking long ball toward the left flank.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a 50\u002F50 duel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jesus Navas and Ling both sprinted for the drop zone. Navas used his experience to lean in, trying to shield the ball.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But physics is cruel.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling didn't just have speed; he had raw power. He engaged his core and accelerated through the challenge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zoom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling reached the ball a split-second before Navas. He poked it forward with his toe, using his momentum to burst past the Spaniard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"He's won the race!\" Tyler shouted.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>United flooded forward. It was a storm-like assault.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As arranged, Lukaku drifted wide to the left, acting as a pivot. He received the ball from Ling, held off Lenglet with his immense strength, and laid it off.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling didn't stop moving. He cut inside, receiving the return pass.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thump. Thump. Thump.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ball moved in a sharp zigzag pattern—Pogba to Ling, Ling to Lukaku, Lukaku back to Ling.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling looked up. He saw McTominay making a run into the box.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But McTominay wasn't a playmaker. He was a battering ram, a decoy. His run dragged Nzonzi away from the central zone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This left the passing lane open to the right.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling whipped a diagonal ball across the face of the defense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Juan Mata was arriving.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"United are bypassing the Number 10!\" Neville noted. \"Pogba is orchestrating from deep, Ling is driving the transition, and McTominay is just causing chaos with his body!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mata controlled the ball. He looked up. The cross was on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Mata squares it!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ball rolled across the face of the six-yard box.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So, what was Scott McTominay's role in this new 4-2-3-1 setup? He wasn't a playmaker.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn't a Number 10 in the traditional sense. His role was singular: Attack the box.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was a battering ram.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A ghost who arrived late to the party to smash the furniture.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Manchester United's No. 39 appeared on the screen, a blur of motion. He used his forward momentum to lunge toward the ball, sliding across the wet turf.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thump!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ball flew off his boot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>CLANG!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A crisp, metallic sound rang out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To Manchester United fans, it was the sound of heartbreak. To the Sevilla faithful, it was the sweetest music in the world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"The crossbar!\" Martin Tyler screamed. \"McTominay hits the woodwork! United miss the chance to retake the lead!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"What a pity!\" Gary Neville groaned. \"His timing was perfect. He arrived exactly where Mourinho wanted him. But the finish... just inches too high.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Look at the shape though,\" Neville added, his analyst brain taking over. \"Pogba surged forward too. Only Matic was left holding the fort. If that rebounded to a Sevilla player? United were wide open.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The match resumed, and the intensity ratcheted up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sevilla, realizing they couldn't match United's pace, turned to the Dark Arts. Their defensive attitude was resolute, cynical, and violent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In less than ten minutes, Ling hit the deck twice. His white shorts were already caked in mud and grass stains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But these weren't the reckless, career-ending stomps of Kieran Trippier.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These were \"professional\" fouls. A tug of the jersey. A hip-check. A subtle trip.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sevilla were smart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They never showed studs. They never risked a red card.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Referee Clément Turpin was lenient. He showed Jesus Navas a yellow card for accumulation, but mostly, he waved play on.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>67th Minute\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The pace of the game began to sag as legs grew heavy.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Mourinho made his move. The fourth official raised the board.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Paul Pogba OFF. Ander Herrera ON.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Interesting,\" Neville noted. \"Herrera offers more defensive stability. Is Mourinho settling for the 1-1 draw? Taking the result back to Old Trafford?\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Montella responded instantly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ever Banega OFF. Guido Pizarro ON. Luis Muriel OFF. Sandro Ramirez ON.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Fresh legs,\" Tyler said. \"Sevilla aren't settling. They want a winner.\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>78th Minute\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The game was balanced on a knife-edge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Steven Nzonzi, dominating the midfield physically, shook off McTominay with a drop of the shoulder.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He played a quick one-two with Pizarro before slotting a diagonal pass to Pablo Sarabia on the wing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whoosh!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Sevilla fans roared. Another overload on the flank.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sarabia surged forward. He knocked the ball past Ashley Young, intending to burn him for pace.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But Ashley Young, despite his age, was in a renaissance. His contract was expiring in July, and he was playing for his future.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Young didn't turn and chase. He anticipated. He stepped across Sarabia's line, raising his right arm to shield the ball, and timed his slide perfectly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Crunch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clean as a whistle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Whoa!\" Neville cheered. \"Ashley Young channeling his inner Maldini! That is a match-saving tackle!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Young didn't just clear it. He saw the transition.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With Pogba off the pitch, United didn't look for the midfield pivot. They went direct.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Young rose to his feet and launched a long, arcing pass down the line.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Boom.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ball soared like a rainbow, dropping into the space behind Jesus Navas.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling had already started running before Young even kicked the ball. He had that sixth sense—the anticipation of the counter-attack.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That half-second head start was lethal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"Don't follow him!\" Montella screamed from the touchline, his voice hoarse. \"Drop! Drop to the box! Cut the angle!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Montella was panicked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He knew Navas couldn't catch Ling in a foot race.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Navas heard the instruction. He abandoned the chase and sprinted diagonally toward his own penalty area, trying to intercept Ling's path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sevilla's defense scrambled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the middle, Lukaku dropped deep to drag the center-backs out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>McTominay made a run to the near post. On the far side, Rashford was locked down by Escudero.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling collected the ball on the left corner of the penalty box.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was isolated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was Ling vs. Jesus Navas. 1v1.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The stadium held its breath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To beat a man at this level, you need speed, strength, and technique. But above all, you need confidence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If you hesitate, you die.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling didn't hesitate. He had the reward from the Tottenham game in his muscle memory.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Navas stood his ground, crouching low, eyes locked on the ball. He blocked the path to the byline. He blocked the cut inside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was a veteran.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling charged at him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He dropped his right shoulder. He touched the ball with the outside of his right boot, pushing it slightly to the right.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Feint.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Navas reacted. He shifted his weight, preparing to block the shot or the drive down the line.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And in that split second—the moment Navas committed his balance—Ling snapped.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Using the inside of the same right foot, Ling whipped the ball back across his body to the left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was violent. It was fluid. It was faster than the eye could follow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The ball seemed to obey physics of its own, snaking one way and then instantly reversing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Elastico.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Navas's brain screamed right, but the ball went left. His ankles tangled. His balance evaporated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He tried to turn, but his legs betrayed him. He crumpled to the turf in a heap, looking like a man slipping on ice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"OH MY GOODNESS!\" Martin Tyler screamed. \"He has ended him! The Elastico! The Cow Tail!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>\"That is Rivellino! That is Ronaldinho!\" Neville gasped. \"Navas is on the floor! He's broken his ankles!\"\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ling was free. He had ghosted past the defender and into the box.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The angle was tight and Sergio Rico was rushing out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>---------\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Read 30 chapters ahead and support me on patreon.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>patreon (.)com\u002FNewbietranslator\u003C\u002Fp>",2181,"2026-06-05T22:48:23.062Z",1,"novelbin.me","94c44774695571d7a2dd19ada0f12314e1162976e6b37b5422a4c7cc423118c8","start-with-r9-template-chapter-37","start-with-r9-template-chapter-36",371,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fstart-with-r9-template-cover.jpg"]