Chapter 452: Dream Theatre Male Lead? (Daily Transition)

De Gea felt like he had cheat codes activated.

His hair stood on end, his whole body ablaze with scorching flames.

High press blocking.

He was beaten into a Super Saiyan state.

Unfortunately, his ability to distribute the ball during transitions was still not excellent enough, causing Manchester United to fail to launch quick counterattack threats even after defusing danger, while maintaining landing precision, thus allowing Chelsea to continuously launch second-phase attacks.

This is the disadvantage of a goalkeeper lacking distribution ability.

Most of the time, Manchester United could only play short ground passes from goal kicks, reorganizing buildup from the back.

The problem arose.

Even if there were a distribution enemy, a goalkeeper with wider coverage.

At this time, Manchester United also needed De Gea to possess world-class goalkeeping technique more than ever.

Hazard was annoyed.

He glanced at Herrera beside him, his expression gloomy.

In their previous encounter, he was not only completely dominated, but the opponent also provided an assist and scored a goal.

It wasn't just simple psoriasis-style tight marking.

Herrera this kid has strong ability in attacking pathways.

34th minute of the match.

Li Kang received Kanté's pass in the thirty-meter zone.

He couldn't turn around in time.

Because Matić this guy surged forward swiftly.

He didn't easily kick the ball out.

Instead, he interfered with Li Kang's distribution rate, using his body to block forward passing angles.

The former Chelsea midfielder, nicknamed "White Yaya," had once reached T0-level peak combat power.

"If Kanté is black flowing water, then Matić is a white city wall."

"Under Mourinho's Manchester United system, he became a false centre-back who distributes like Lavezzi."

Li Kang did not force a turn.

Following his body's orientation, he stepped forward two steps, increasing the distance from Matić; Manchester United's false centre-back remained calm, not continuing to lose position and entangle.

From God's perspective, Morata's running path formed a blue arc.

Legendary connection.

Blood transfusion form.

"Beautiful!"

"Backheel long pass!"

"He's got eyes all over his body!"

"This scalpel-like pass tore apart Manchester United's last line of defence!"

"Morata's godlike positioning!"

"He slipped past between Maguire and Smalling!"

"Not offside!"

"Facing the goalkeeper one-on-one!"

Old Trafford echoed with gasps of astonishment.

Tuchel and Dino were excited: the ultimate weapon in autonomous attack phase had finally seized the moment and fused together.

Morata received the ball inside the penalty area.

De Gea did not come out, positioning himself near the near post, calmly observing the Spanish striker's foot movements.

Thud!

The instant the Spanish striker shot.

The Spanish goalkeeper had already prepared a K-shaped blocking stance.

The ball, like an arrow released from a bow, grazed the white-gold gloves and thundered into the net.

0:1!

!

"Goal!"

"Reverse-foot god striker! Morata!"

"Close-range left-foot cannon!"

"Power creates miracles!"

"Li Kang's telepathic pass, Morata's miraculous run."

"Well passed."

"Well run."

"The two combined to breach the Red Devils' copper walls and iron bars!"

"In the upcoming match, the game will become more open, unless Manchester United willingly concede three points at Old Trafford."

-【Father-son connection!】

-【Li Mingdeng awesome! Still able to deliver a perfect long pass even with his back to goal.】

-【Damn, Morata scored with his foot!】

-【Who doesn't eat dumplings during New Year?】

-【Can't spit out a cookie even when it's fed to your mouth.】

-【Looking at the replay, I think this goal happened because De Gea overthought it, setting up some K-shaped block—just a normal save to the corner would've done the trick, right?】

Old Trafford instantly erupted in cheers like a tide.

Applause from all directions surged like an avalanche, drowning the green pitch.

Morata excitedly turned and embraced Li Kang.

Teammates gathered around in a crowd.

"Too sudden—I thought you'd shoot it into the stands!"

"What are you talking about? Even Yin Bu's grandma could kick this in!"

"Everything... I and Li's calculations accounted for it all."

Li Kang patted his head, energy seemingly drained once again.

Some rejoiced, others worried.

Manchester United's goalkeeper sat on the turf, expression dazed.

Maguire wore a stern expression, pointing out De Gea's defensive stance was inappropriate.

Sideline.

Tuchel regained his composure.

Dino excitedly said: "As long as Manchester United attacks, stretching the defensive depth and creating space, Li will have ample room!"

Other side.

Mourinho furrowed his brow, continuing to make adjustments.

One goal behind.

Can't keep dragging this out—the opponent's ball control is extremely strong; the longer we delay, the more passive we become.

His offensive design is actually decent too—fans have long criticized him for only knowing three moves, being utilitarian and one-dimensional.

In fact, back when he had a healthy 20-year-old Robben, Mourinho's big bus could also produce beautiful, layered, three-dimensional attacks.

Match restarted from the center circle.

Lukaku kicked off and passed back to Herrera.

Chelsea's frontline players quickly pushed forward, launching a press.

"Maguire and Smolin have widened their positioning."

"Matic dropped back to center."

"Watch Valencia and Pogba's runs..."

"Manchester United's setup of strengthening parallel passing and receiving in the back line resembles Morata's deep withdrawal for Chelsea—different approaches, same goal: solving the problem of playing out under high pressure."

"One focuses on the rear of the formation, the other on the front."

"Speaking of which, it's still about the stylistic differences between the two clubs' coaching staff."

"Look, the classic Lavolpe-style buildup may be old-fashioned, but it works for Manchester United."

"Next is Pogba's moment to shine."

"There's no such thing as midfield double pride in Europe—our Football World segment calls Pogba and Li Kang the new generation's double pride. Upon reflection, it makes sense: after all, he's the first hundred-million-euro man, recognized across Europe, with all-around ability and exceptional talent."

"Besides goals, assists, and threatening passes, his other hidden stats are very close to Li Kang's."

"Oh dear."

"Too sticky on the ball—seize this gap, pass early, and you're nothing but the Red Devil Li Kang, right?"

Allegri has long proven: striped Pogba is a superstar team-building core.

A group of elder brothers pressuring him, afraid to cause trouble.

Potential realized.

Power exploded off the charts.

Early on, forming a super iron triangle with Pirlo and Vidal, capable of being the supporting leaf.

Later, able to carry the whole team alone, capable of being the protagonist.

Unfortunately, couldn't keep him.

If Pogba had stayed one more year at Juventus, then transferred straight to Real Madrid, the outcome might have been different.

What career planning is this?

All the legends can't understand: you Pogba going to Manchester United isn't even top salary, and your European competitiveness is far behind Juventus and Real Madrid.

The only explanation is: this Pogba loves Manchester United deeply.

Now it seems he doesn't love it anymore.

"Too sticky on the ball!"

"Marseille turn!"

"Another left-foot drag, right-foot heel flick—successfully shook them off!"

"Broke through two defenders in one go!"

"Oh, Sanchez and Martial are in such great positions—why not pass to them?"

"Still have to carry it yourself!"

"Brilliant!"

"Top-tier half-turn technique—physical talent is astonishing! Control radius is exaggerated!"

"Pogba seems to say: I am the main character of the Dream Theater!"

"Created a counterattack gap! Pass... oh wait, it's himself carrying again!"

"..."

"As of the eighth round of the Premier League, Pogba's dribble success rate is tied for second with Li Kang, reaching as high as 74%!"

"It's no use, too sluggish, Chelsea had already completed their defensive positioning."

Any area of Pogba's midfield is top-tier.

The solved hexagon warrior.

Stop, dribble, shoot — missing a "pass" character.

Pass?

Pass to Sanchez?

Pass to Sanchez, who's competing with me for the core position and earning a higher salary than me?

Pass my ass.

VIP box.

Ferguson gloomily covered his chest.

My heart feels blocked.

So blocked.

Pogba strode with his big black leg, his right foot showing a simplified version of the cow tail, cutting through Cantona's legs.

He advanced into the thirty-meter zone.

Facing two defensive players.

He made a rapid half-turn into a "wall", and with his back to goal, played a pass to the advancing Herrera.

"He's not afraid of double-teams at all!"

"Actually, Pogba doesn't need to hog the ball — look at his arc runs, how reasonable they are."

"We just need to coax him into playing."

Lukaku drifted to the flank, acting as the third support point.

He's still very smart.

Dragging his 200-jin frame, outside the diagonal of the right side of the penalty box, he received Herrera's pass.

He violently swung his thick leg in a small motion.

Pa!

The football rolled toward Pogba in midfield.

Sanchez sneaked into the penalty area.

Following the normal attacking design: Pogba cleverly made a small diagonal through ball forward, and Sanchez could finish it in one touch.

No.

None of these things.

Pogba's long-range shooting ability is off the charts — why should I make a pass to someone competing for my core position?

"Here it comes!"

"Another one-billion-euro wonder goal is about to unfold!"

"Shake off Fabregas!"

"I'll take this shot myself!"

Peng!

Heaven-shaking, earth-slaying strike!

The football clung to the grass, transformed into a sharp blade, and fiercely pierced into Chelsea's penalty area.

Buffon finally had something to do.

He happened to be standing exactly at the endpoint of the shot's trajectory.

He crouched down.

A pair of pink gloves gently embraced the football.

"Perfect positioning."

"Perfect hand shape."

"This is Buffon!"

"It's hard to see him make spectacular saves!"

"But he possesses cheat-code-level top-tier anticipation!"

Sanchez stopped his steps, struggled to suppress his anger, raised both hands, and clapped vigorously.

In terms of causing trouble in the locker room, this former Arsenal player is top-tier.

Can you tolerate Pogba?

Forget it, better to just endure it.

Wenger successfully remodeled Sanchez into a "rotating center forward".

Alternative Sanchez false nine.

Guardiola was originally very interested, but after recalling his time working together at Barcelona, he lost interest again.

Mourinho has never been interested; he originally planned to honestly build the team around Pogba, but unfortunately, it's unreliable.

But Manchester United's higher-ups are interested: you Manchester City want him? Then we'll... eh? How come Arsenal really agreed to sell? How come Manchester City doesn't want him anymore? Forget it, we bought him anyway — you Mourinho can't not use him.

In a certain sense, Manchester United's head coach position is the hardest job in the world.

Buffon threw out a powerful hand-toss.

Morata leapt high in the midfield circle, heading the ball to lay it off.

Laying it off to Li Kang at the back.

This header was off.

Manchester United players need to hurry back to defend and take position.

Phew.

The football Li Kang controlled before catching up to Lukaku.

In God's perspective.

The formation of Manchester United's defensive recovery, with huge gaps.

Chelsea's front line only has Morata as a passing and receiving point.

I'll come myself.

Li Kang pushed the ball forward and started to accelerate.

99 points of speed.

The whinny of a young horse by the ear.

The True Eye pierced out from between the eyebrows.

A gust of wind blew over the grass.

Old Trafford, suddenly erupting in continuous shouts!

"Pogba has been chasing all along!"

"Can't catch up, gave up!"

"Li Kang is too fast!"

"Soaring through clouds and riding the mist!"

"Wow!"

"Separated man and ball, devouring Herrera raw!"

"New generation midfield twins of Europe! Old Trafford repeatedly staging the ultimate in individual heroism!"

The camera can't quite keep up.

Li Kang, as if stepping on clouds, collapsed Manchester United's defensive formation!

Exploded the whole stadium!

Matic exerted all his strength, even failing to make a lateral positioning interception in time!

Too late.

Too sudden.

Sudden as a bolt of lightning from the blue.

De Gea stood ready, eyes firm.

Cannot concede again.

Must defend Old Trafford's dignity.

The spectators' focus shifted with Li Kang's sprint.

The sign on one side of the pitch became increasingly blurry.

Tuchel was overjoyed.

Mourinho frowned tightly.

Ferguson chewed gum, fists clenched, trembling violently.

"Martial relied on terrifying speed to rush back and support defense."

"Li Kang and Morata, two up front against four!"

"Beautiful!"

"Sudden stop, change of direction, then a V-shaped pull-back."

"Even in the game, there's no time to make such a fast move!"

"Too inhuman!"

"No less than Pogba in bodily flexibility and coordination!"

"Smash Maguire head-on!"

"Pass to Morata, then cut into the left side of the penalty area!"

"Morata touched the ball with one foot!"

Legendary link.

Bloodsucking form.

Li Kang truly had not a single drop left.

The football quietly descended.

【231> He raised his right leg high!

He lifted his right leg high!

Volley shot!

Thud!

Super Saiyan-form De Gea, even his limit reaction arc couldn't stop the ultimate arc blasted out of the Pirlo zone!

0:2!

!

"Dead angle!"

"Li Kang's zone!"

"A flying slash, straight into the top right corner of the goal!"

"Li Kang smashed the entire Manchester United defense from the front!"

Unbelievable!

Unthinkable!

The individual heroism shining at Old Trafford!

Shocking!

The ultimate performance at the Theatre of Dreams!

Old Trafford, the crowd hoarse from shouting.

All eyes were fixed on Chelsea's number 10 on the pitch.

He is the true protagonist of tonight's Theatre of Dreams!

The livestream room.

The barrage of comments poured down like a waterfall.

-【New generation, in a league of its own.】

-【Defense.】

-【Who can save this Manchester United? Suddenly torn apart? I'm about to cry myself unconscious in the toilet.】

-【Manchester United's defensive structure during their own attacking phase is fine, but the players' execution during recovery is too poor; they underestimated Li Kang's acceleration.】

-【If Pogba had Pirlo's brain and emotional intelligence, match understanding, resource allocation thinking, attacking direction choices, dispatching and commanding ability, defensive, and front-to-back transition thinking... he might truly lead Manchester United to a revival; his performance is too mood-dependent.】

-【Like a kindergarten kid playing with my max-level graduation account.】

The sideline.

Chelsea's bench erupted in celebration.

Tuchel raised both arms.

Dino rested his chin on his hand: "Boss, this match is still too easy."

The other side.

Mourinho pulled Pogba aside, earnestly advising him.

Patience.

Still have patience.

Immediately after.

Lukaku was also called over.

The master and apprentice gestured, sometimes pointing toward Chelsea's goal, sometimes toward Manchester United's goal.

Shortly after, they acted out a state of sudden enlightenment.

The feeling for the audience... was as if Lukaku said: Boss, that's where our goal is?