Become A Football Legend Chapter 398: Demolition

From the moment Lukas’ 2nd goal hit the net, the derby seemed to tilt entirely in City’s direction.

United still tried to respond, still looked for those quick vertical passes into Amad and Mbeumo whenever they won possession, but every counterattack appeared to meet a blue wall before it could truly become dangerous. Khusanov was especially sharp on the right side of City’s defence, reading almost every lofted pass toward Amad before it could drop into space, while Dias kept stepping forward at the right moments to squeeze Šeško out of the game.

On the opposite side, Gvardiol marshalled Mbeumo with quiet authority, matching his runs, forcing him backward, and refusing to let him turn into open grass. Behind all of it, Rodri looked like a player determined to remind everyone what City had been missing during his injury absence.

If Bruno Fernandes tried to drift into midfield, Rodri followed him. If Bruno dropped deeper to receive, Bernardo Silva pressed from the front and Rodri closed the lane behind him. United’s captain kept demanding the ball, kept pointing, kept trying to drag his team forward, but every time the pass came into him, the space disappeared almost instantly. City were not merely leading the derby. They were suffocating it.

Gary Neville summed it up as United once again lost the ball under pressure near the centre circle. "Manchester United just cannot breathe at the moment. Bruno Fernandes has hardly had a clean touch in the last 20 minutes, and that’s because Rodri and Bernardo are hunting him together. Every time United think there’s a passing lane, City close it."

Peter Drury watched Rodri calmly take another touch under pressure before switching play to Doku. "And for a player only recently back from injury, Rodri has been immense. The rhythm, the timing, the authority. Manchester City have their heartbeat back."

There were chances for City to stretch the score even further before halftime. Haaland came closest just before the 43rd minute, when Foden slipped a clever pass between Luke Shaw and De Ligt, sending the Norwegian through on the left side of the penalty area. Haaland struck first time, low and vicious, but Bayındır got a strong hand to it, deflecting the ball upward. It crashed against the crossbar, dropped into the 6-yard box, and De Ligt reacted quickest, throwing himself backward to head it away before Doku could arrive for the rebound.

The Etihad groaned, but the pressure did not stop.

3 minutes of stoppage time were shown on the board.

City kept the ball.

United chased.

And in the first minute of added time, the 3rd goal arrived.

The move began with Nico O’Reilly on the left side of City’s defensive third. He rolled the ball inside to Rodri, who took one touch and immediately lifted his head. United had been dragged almost completely toward City’s left, their midfield and wing-backs shifting across to deal with Doku, Foden and O’Reilly. On the far side, hugging the right touchline, Lukas stood almost alone. Dorgu was the closest red shirt to him, but even he was several yards away, stranded in that uncomfortable space between pressing and retreating.

Rodri saw it immediately and clipped a 40 yards lofted pass directly towards Lukas.

The ball dropped out of the night sky toward the right flank, and Lukas brought it down with a touch so soft that the first roar from the crowd came before he had even started running. Dorgu squared up to him, this time refusing to dive in, clearly remembering what had happened minutes earlier. He waited for cover, his stance low, his eyes fixed on Lukas’ hips rather than the ball.

Lukas glanced at him, almost as if measuring whether the lesson had been learned.

Then he simply kicked the ball down the line and exploded after it.

Dorgu turned immediately, sprinting as hard as he could, but Lukas’ first 3 steps were devastating. He reached the ball near the byline with Dorgu still half a yard behind him, shaped his body as if to cross first time, and drew exactly the reaction he wanted. Dorgu threw himself toward the expected delivery, sliding across the grass to block it.

The cross never came.

Lukas planted his right foot, dragged the ball behind his standing leg with a Cruyff turn, and left Dorgu skidding past him on the turf. The United wing-back scrambled to get up, palms digging into the grass, but Lukas was already moving inside, carrying the ball toward the edge of the box as the Etihad rose again with that familiar, rising murmur.

"Brandt again..." Drury said, his voice already tightening. "Dorgu has gone to ground... and Brandt has kept it alive."

Ugarte came across to close him down, sprinting from midfield with the desperation of a man trying to stop a disaster before it fully formed. Inside the box, Haaland tried to peel away from De Ligt, wrestling for half a yard of separation at the far post. Bernardo Silva hovered near the D, available for the cutback. And from just behind Ugarte’s shoulder, Phil Foden began to arrive unnoticed, ghosting into the space Bruno Fernandes had completely failed to track.

Lukas saw all of it.

He shaped his body toward Haaland, eyes briefly lifting toward the Norwegian as if the cross was coming. Ugarte shifted to block that angle, De Ligt leaned toward Haaland, and Bayındır took half a step across his line. But Lukas’ left foot told a different story. With the outside of his boot, he disguised the pass at the very last second, sliding it through Ugarte’s legs and into the path of Foden, who had arrived just inside the penalty area after breaking away from his marker, Bruno.

Foden did not need a touch.

He opened his body and side-footed the ball 1st time, low and clean into the bottom left corner

Bayındır stretched, but the finish was too precise.

The net rippled.

The Etihad erupted all over again.

"GOAL! PHIL FODEN SCORES IN THE DERVY AGAIN!" Drury roared. "Manchester City are tearing Manchester United apart before halftime! And once more, the genius belongs to Lukas Brandt. The disguise, the timing, the outside-of-the-foot pass through Ugarte’s legs—Foden finishes it, but Brandt has painted it."

Gary Neville let out a heavy breath. "That is devastating. United are all over the place. Dorgu gets sold by the Cruyff turn, Ugarte thinks he’s blocking the pass to Haaland, Bruno doesn’t track Foden, and suddenly it’s 3-0. This could become embarrassing."

Foden sprinted toward the corner, pointing both hands back at Lukas before the winger reached him. The two embraced near the touchline as Haaland arrived next, laughing and shouting into the noise, while Doku jumped into the group from the side. Around them, City shirts poured forward in celebration, the supporters behind the goal shaking the stadium with their voices.

Lukas did not celebrate like a man surprised by what was happening anymore.

He looked alive and free, smiling as he watched the fans go insane.

As the players broke apart and jogged back toward the halfway line, the scoreboard changed again.

Manchester City 3–0 Manchester United.

45’ + 1

The derby was turning into a demolition.