Become A Football Legend Chapter 392: Derby Day 1

Lukas laughed.

"I had no choice."

Bernardo pointed dramatically toward the club’s camera crew.

"You!"

The cameramen looked over.

"Delete that footage immediately. That never happened. If I see that on our social media, I’m filing a complaint."

The nearby players burst into laughter.

Even Nico O’Reilly couldn’t stop smiling.

Along the touchline, Guardiola simply folded his arms. A faint smile appeared on his face before he leaned toward Pep Lijnders and quietly said something.

Pep Lijnders nodded once.

Neither men elaborated.

Training resumed immediately.

There were no celebrations.

No standing around admiring the goal.

Just another whistle as the players restarted the game. The goal was to sharpen themselves as much as possible for the upcoming game.

Meanwhile, at the same time, some distance across the city, the intensity was no different.

At Carrington, Manchester United’s training ground, Rúben Amorim stood beside his assistant Carlos Fernandes, watching his squad work through another demanding tactical session.

The pitch was divided into zones.

One-touch passing.

Quick combinations.

Then, on the coach’s whistle—

Break.

Explode forward.

Everything revolved around transitions.

Bruno Fernandes received the first pass almost every time, immediately looking to release the runners with long balls up the field.

Bryan Mbeumo sprinted into the right channel.

Matheus Cunha drifted inside to receive between the lines.

Benjamin Šeško charged through the middle, stretching the defensive line with every run.

"If the first pass isn’t forward," Amorim called out, "it’s already too slow."

Bruno nodded.

The next sequence was cleaner.

One touch, two touches, from Mainoo, and just as he tried to turn to face forward, Ugarte snapped into a tackle, won possession and released Bruno, who threaded a pass into Cunha before the Brazilian flicked it around the corner for Šeško.

Carlos Fernandes clapped.

"That’s the speed."

Amorim remained expressionless, his eyes fixed on every movement, as he stared at Mainoo get up from the floor.

"Again."

The whistle sounded.

On opposite sides of Manchester, under different managers and different philosophies, two squads prepared with the same objective.

In four days’ time...

Only one of them would leave the derby satisfied.

* * *

14 September 2025Manchester – 9:00 a.m.

The apartment was unusually quiet.

There was no television playing in the background, no music from anybody’s phone, no casual conversation filling the rooms.

Only the soft rustle of clothes, the zip of a travel bag being closed, and the occasional clink of ceramic from the kitchen.

Lukas adjusted the sleeve of his black hoodie before slipping on a light jacket. September in Manchester was beginning to cool, the kind of weather that sat somewhere between summer and autumn. Casual jeans, white trainers and a Manchester City backpack were all he needed for the morning.

Across from him, Javi leaned against the living room wall with his arms folded.

He watched his son for a few seconds before walking over and resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Nervous?"

Lukas smiled to himself.

"I’d be lying if I said there weren’t any nerves. But..." He took a slow breath. "I know it’s going to be alright."

Javi gave his shoulder a reassuring pat.

"Good. Nerves mean it matters. Just don’t let them control you."

Lukas nodded.

"I won’t."

Behind them, Joanna emerged from the bedroom carrying his backpack.

"I think you forgot this."

She handed it over before stepping closer, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him softly.

"We’ll see you at the stadium. You know where we’ll be sitting."

"I know."

"We’ll be cheering for you, so don’t think about anything else. Just play your game."

Lukas smiled.

"I’ll see you there."

She kissed him one more time before letting him go.

Javi opened the apartment door.

"Go make Manchester blue."

Lukas laughed.

"I’ll try."

He stepped into the hallway, the apartment door closing gently behind him.

Outside, the city already felt different. It was not necessarily louder or busier than any other Sunday morning in Manchester, but there was something in the air that made the day feel heavier. Scarves hung from apartment balconies, supporters in red and sky blue shirts walked toward tram stations in small groups, and newspaper stands displayed bold derby headlines that seemed impossible to ignore. Even the cafés looked fuller than usual, conversations turning again and again to one match, one rivalry, one afternoon.

Manchester Derby Day.

Aaron was already waiting beside a black BMW i7, leaning casually against the driver’s door. The moment he saw Lukas step out of the building, he straightened and opened the rear door for him. "Morning," he said.

"Morning," Lukas replied, placing his bag beside him before climbing in.

The BMW pulled smoothly into the morning traffic, joining the slow movement of cars heading through a city already divided by colour. For the first few minutes, neither of them spoke. Aaron seemed to sense the weight sitting on Lukas’ shoulders and deliberately kept the conversation away from football, allowing the silence to settle before finally glancing into the mirror and saying, "Oh, by the way, I spoke with Phil’s estate agent yesterday."

Lukas turned toward him, grateful for the change of subject. "You did?"

"Yeah. The property’s still available. They said whenever you’ve got some free time this week, they’ll arrange a private viewing. Monday, Tuesday... whenever works."

"Perfect," Lukas said, nodding. "Let’s try tomorrow if training allows."

"I’ll sort it."

"Thanks."

"No problem," Aaron replied with a small smile.

From there, the conversation drifted naturally to furniture, neighbourhoods, commute times to the City Football Academy and whether the house came furnished. Lukas understood exactly what Aaron was doing. He was keeping his mind occupied, pulling his thoughts away from the derby waiting later that afternoon, and Lukas appreciated it more than he said. By the time the familiar gates of the City Football Academy came into view, the knot in his stomach had loosened slightly.

Security waved the car through immediately, and as Lukas stepped out, he noticed something he had never really paid attention to before. Everyone seemed to be moving faster. Ground staff hurried across the courtyard carrying equipment, kitchen staff wheeled breakfast carts toward the dining hall, media personnel checked cameras and cables, and analysts walked briskly between offices with tablets tucked under their arms.

Nobody looked relaxed, no one needed to be reminded what day it was, because this was not just another Premier League fixture. It was the fixture that gave one half of Manchester bragging rights over the other.

Lukas headed inside, greeted several members of staff, changed into the club’s training kit and made his way to breakfast. The dining room was already almost full by the time he arrived, every first-team player present alongside a few academy youngsters who had been invited to train with the senior squad.

Unlike most mornings, conversation was minimal. The clatter of cutlery sounded louder than the players themselves, and even Haaland, usually one of the biggest voices in the room, ate quietly with his focus fixed somewhere beyond his plate.

After breakfast had finished, Pep Guardiola entered the room. He did not speak immediately. Instead, he walked slowly between the tables, looking at each player, making eye contact one by one until the entire room became completely silent. Only then did he stop in the middle and say, "I hope all of you understand how important today is."