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Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

Chapter 187 - 185: Can You Guess If I’m a Bluff or the Trump Card? · Nov 11, 2026

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Chapter List (401)

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151 Chapter 151: You Were Given the Chance, and You Blew It! 2026-11-11
152 Chapter 152: Dortmund Should Be Thanking Us, and Ajax Owes Man City a Bow Next Match 2026-11-11
153 Chapter 153: So I Heard Atlético Wants to Rise Up? 2026-11-11
154 Chapter 154: Good Thing These Two Aren’t on the Same Team—La Liga Would Be a Nightmare 2026-11-11
155 Chapter 155: With Pintus on Our Side, Attrition Battles Are Real Madrid’s Home Turf 2026-11-11
156 Chapter 156: The Champions League Round of 16 Is Set—Real Madrid Sets Sights on a Sixth Title 2026-11-11
157 Chapter 157: “Light of Asia” Sparks Idol Frenzy in East Asia 2026-11-11
158 Chapter 158: Guardiola in Meltdown—Is Barça in Trouble? 2026-11-11
159 Chapter 159: Kid, If You Go to Barça, I’ll Just Keep Beating You 2026-11-11
160 Chapter 160: Alright, I Admit It—Li Ang Does Want the Ballon d’Or 2026-11-11
161 Chapter 161: Triple-Front War or Cautious Double-Line Focus? 2026-11-11
162 Chapter 162: One Path Up Mount Hua—All In for a Double Title Defense 2026-11-11
163 Chapter 163: You Mock Arsenal for Their Top-Four Obsession, but They’re Really Not That Weak 2026-11-11
164 Chapter 164: Wenger: Who Wouldn’t Want to Sign Li Ang? 2026-11-11
165 Chapter 165: Playing Against Technical Teams? That’s What We Do Best 2026-11-11
166 Chapter 166: Their Will Is Shattered—Arsenal’s Dao Heart Has Collapsed! 2026-11-11
167 Chapter 167 - 189: Offensive Talent Skyrockets — The Giants Are Drooling Over Leon 2026-11-11
168 Chapter 168 - 167: A Burned-Out Barça Falls in the Second Half of the Season 2026-11-11
169 Chapter 169 - 168: El Clásico IV—A Slumping Barça Meets a Red-Hot Madrid 2026-11-11
170 Chapter 170 - 169: Farewell, Barça! Madrid’s Real Target—Wipe Out the Premier League! 2026-11-11
171 Chapter 171 - 170: We Said We’d Crush Your Midfield—and We Meant It 2026-11-11
172 Chapter 172 - 171: Three Champions League Games—Li Ang Proves His Worth Completely 2026-11-11
173 Chapter 173 - 172: Time to Calculate When Madrid Can Clinch the Title Early 2026-11-11
174 Chapter 174 - 173: All-In—Madrid Is Going All-In for the Title! 2026-11-11
175 Chapter 175 - 174: Fat Tiger’s First Appearance for Madrid, Li Ang: “That’s My Brother.” 2026-11-11
176 Chapter 176 - 175: Dortmund’s Twin Engines Useless Before Li Ang 2026-11-11
177 Chapter 177 - 175: Dortmund’s Twin Engines Don’t Work Against Li Ang 2026-11-11
178 Chapter 178 - 175: Dortmund’s Twin Engines Are Useless Against Li Ang 2026-11-11
179 Chapter 179 - 176: A Midfielder Can’t Just Drift with the Game — Total Domination in Attack and Defense, That’s the Core Shield! 2026-11-11
180 Chapter 180 - 177: Shameless but Effective Tactics — Real Madrid’s All-Out Bombardment Squad 2026-11-11
181 Chapter 181 - 178: Give Me Leon, and Real Madrid Loses 2026-11-11
182 Chapter 182 - 180: The First All-German Derby in a Champions League Final 2026-11-11
183 Chapter 183 - 181: After This Makeup Match, We’re Having Our Championship Celebration Banquet 2026-11-11
184 Chapter 184 - 182: Championship Night! If You Want to Keep Climbing, You Need to Learn to Be More Selfish 2026-11-11
185 Chapter 185 - 183: Before We Drift Apart, Let’s Build the Mourinho-Era Madrid Dynasty 2026-11-11
186 Chapter 186 - 184: The Most Star-Studded Champions League Final in Nearly Two Decades 2026-11-11
187 Chapter 187 - 185: Can You Guess If I’m a Bluff or the Trump Card? 2026-11-11
188 Chapter 188 - 186: Robbery + Müller + a Classic Target Man — This Is Peak Bayern 2026-11-11
189 Chapter 189 - 187: We Are the Legend — Long Live Mourinho’s Real Madrid! 2026-11-11
190 Chapter 190 - 188: I Don’t Want Money, Sir — I Want to Be the Leader 2026-11-11
191 Chapter 191 - 189: Offensive Talent Skyrockets — The Giants Are Drooling Over Leon 2026-11-11
192 Chapter 192 - 190: The End of Mourinho’s Madrid — Leon and the Battle of Six Giants 2026-11-11
193 Chapter 193 - 191: We Are Chelsea Now—The New Kings of London! 2026-11-11
194 Chapter 194 - 192: Huge Potential, Plenty of Questions—But Mourinho’s Ready to Unleash a Youth Storm! 2026-11-11
195 Chapter 195 - 193: A Brother’s Call and Zlatan Lands at the Bridge! 2026-11-11
196 Chapter 196 - 194: A System? Leon Is the System, Offense and Defense Alike 2026-11-11
197 Chapter 197 - 195: The Calm Little Lion and the Beast Zlatan 2026-11-11
198 Chapter 198 - 196: Guardiola vs. Mourinho Returns to the Premier League! Matić Closes the Summer Transfer Window 2026-11-11
199 Chapter 199 - 197: Creating a Goal from Kickoff—Little Lion, Are You Actually Going All-In?! 2026-11-11
200 Chapter 200 - 198: From Unpredictable Enigma to Super-Sub? Watch My Belgian Mini-Tank Explode! 2026-11-11

Summer in London is, without a doubt, far more likable than winter.

Gone are the foggy cold days and endless rain of autumn and winter. On a clear day like this, Wembley Stadium is the perfect venue for a major final.

And of course, the football culture in England is as rich as ever.

Over the past few days in London, Leon had encountered waves of passionate fans wherever he went.

On the morning of the Champions League final, after Real Madrid finished their final training session, they passed several local Madrid fan groups waving banners of support on the way back to their hotel.

By evening, as the Real Madrid and Bayern Munich team buses arrived at Wembley, the roar of a packed crowd split down the middle by allegiance sent a wave of familiarity through both squads.

But this wasn’t like any ordinary match — not even your average Champions League game. Wembley, like Camp Nou, was a true football coliseum.

Leon wasn’t European, so he didn’t have the same emotional connection to playing at Wembley as some of his teammates.

Looking around at the sheer size of the stadium and the sea of seats, his only thought was:

”Huge.”

Then, a random thought crept in.

”If I score here today, how should I celebrate to make sure the whole stadium notices?”

He immediately laughed at himself and shook his head. He was getting a little cocky.

Sure, he’d scored in the Champions League final last year, but Bayern this year wasn’t the same as the one he faced then.

Forget scoring — even notching an assist tonight would be enough to satisfy him.

Putting that fantasy aside, Leon dialed back into the moment and got serious. He focused on pre-match warmups with his teammates.

The starting lineups for both teams were released right around that time — and the media, who never believed the coaches’ previous comments, felt vindicated.

Benzema and Xabi Alonso, who were supposedly nursing muscle tightness, looked sharp in warmups. Robben didn’t look injured in the slightest.

Sure enough, all three were in the starting XI.

But there were still a few surprises.

For Madrid, Modrić was unexpectedly replaced by Matuidi.

And on Bayern’s side, Robben started ahead of Müller — despite being used only as a bench weapon in the semifinals.

The lineup choices caught media and fans off guard.

Clearly, both managers had done their tactical homework and made subtle adjustments.

Matuidi’s inclusion meant Madrid would field a more defensively solid double pivot with Leon in midfield — strong for intercepting and disrupting Bayern’s flow.

Robben’s return to the starting eleven hinted that Heynckes wanted to unleash Bayern’s trademark wing-based attack early.

It looked like he was aiming for an all-out offensive showdown.

Mourinho, on the other hand, seemed to have reserved his tactical punch for the second half.

Still, the media was hesitant to draw conclusions.

Matuidi wasn’t just a destroyer — he could contribute to offense as well. What if Mourinho was bluffing again?

London’s reporters, no strangers to being outwitted by ”The Special One,” weren’t taking any chances this time.

In the commentary booth, He Wei and Coach Zhang were adjusting their equipment and quietly debating Mourinho’s true plan.

He Wei was adamant at first — ”Mourinho’s bluffing. He’s gonna drop a tactical bomb when the match starts.”

But when the national anthems finished, the lineups were locked, and the game was moments from kickoff, He Wei had to face the truth.

Mourinho wasn’t bluffing. He really did plan to defend and counter — giving Bayern the early initiative.

Coach Zhang, seeing the disappointment on He Wei’s face, didn’t tease him and instead jumped in with a rundown of the starting elevens.

”Here is Bayern Munich’s starting lineup:

Goalkeeper: No. 1 Manuel Neuer.

Left back: No. 27 David Alaba.

Center backs: No. 4 Dante and No. 17 Boateng.

Right back: No. 21 Philipp Lahm.

Double pivots: No. 31 Schweinsteiger and No. 8 Javi Martínez.

Attacking midfield: No. 39 Toni Kroos.

Left wing: No. 7 Franck Ribéry.

Right wing: No. 10 Arjen Robben.

Striker: No. 9 Mario Mandzukic.”

”And for Real Madrid,” Coach Zhang continued,

”Goalkeeper: No. 1 Iker Casillas.

Left back: No. 12 Marcelo.

Center backs: No. 3 Pepe and No. 4 Ramos.

Right back: No. 17 Arbeloa.

Defensive mid: No. 14 Xabi Alonso.

Central mids: No. 10 Leon and No. 15 Matuidi.

Wingers: No. 7 Ronaldo on the left and No. 22 Di María on the right.

Striker: No. 9 Benzema.”

As Coach Zhang wrapped up, He Wei jumped in:

”Thank you, Coach Zhang. As we can see, both managers have stacked their midfields with five players, though their tactical approaches may differ.”

Before he could finish, the referee blew the opening whistle right on schedule.

Both commentators snapped to attention.

”Gear up, everyone! Welcome to the live broadcast of the 2012–2013 UEFA Champions League Final!”

While He Wei gave the opening lines, Bayern kicked off and immediately pressed forward, stretching Madrid’s formation with both wings pushing high.

Looking back at last year’s clash between these two sides, Mourinho had tried to go toe-to-toe — attacking hard, trusting the trident up front and midfield press.

And it worked. Madrid overwhelmed Bayern with firepower and directness.

But as the old Chinese saying goes: ”No battle is ever the same; no form set in stone.”

This Bayern had evolved.

With Martínez anchoring the midfield and improved chemistry across the board, the gaps Madrid had exploited last year were now sealed.

Attacking straight through the center wouldn’t work this time.

Madrid, too, had improved. Their defensive shape had matured. And Leon had grown immensely as a box-to-box dynamo.

That’s why Mourinho chose discipline over aggression.

Compared to Heynckes’ more daring game plan, Mourinho was playing the long game — control first, strike later.

It wasn’t about being conservative — it was about choosing the safest, most effective route to lift the cup.

The trio of Leon, Alonso, and Matuidi provided Mourinho with an iron-clad midfield shield.

And within the first five minutes, they delivered.

Madrid’s defense wasn’t just solid — it was suffocating.

The entire team had internalized Mourinho’s philosophy. Press together, drop together, counter as a unit.

Last season, they’d claimed title after title with rugged defending and clinical counters.

It wasn’t flashy, but it worked.

That belief — that structure — was now in their bones.

They absorbed Bayern’s first wave, blocked passing lanes, and shut down wide overloads.

Heynckes stood on the touchline, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

But he wasn’t surprised.

This was the new Real Madrid — the one that could choke out even the most powerful offense in Europe.

If you were asking: ”Who attacks best in Europe right now?”

Bayern would argue with anyone.

But if you asked: ”Who defends best?”

Even Bayern’s players would admit —

They weren’t better than Madrid. Not tonight. Not yet.

This was simply stating facts—Mourinho knew his team’s strengths, and so did Heynckes.

When their initial aggressive push didn’t yield results, Bayern quickly adjusted under Heynckes, switching to a wing-central combination, a more intricate mode of attacking.

Had Thomas Müller been deployed in Bayern’s number 10 role, their attacking patterns might have remained straightforward and quick.

But with Toni Kroos pulling the strings in that position, Bayern’s offense became filled with delicate layers and technical finesse.

Leon was evolving—but so were his opponents. Take Toni Kroos, for instance, who was now directly matched up against him.

Last year, when Kroos was shadowed by Leon, his passing was shaky, his organization disrupted.

This year, Kroos seemed unbothered—his calm, measured distribution made Leon feel a rare sense of pressure.

The problem with players like Kroos, who use intelligence and subtle passing to drive an offense, is that once they stop engaging you directly, there’s no clear way to stop them.

Leon had tried everything—physical confrontations, tricky footwork, tight marking—but Kroos continued to circulate the ball with ease.

Leon’s methods could slow Bayern’s central penetration, but not stop it. Unless he fouled Kroos harshly, which he’d never do. Not his style.

Thankfully, even though Leon’s direct efforts to contain Kroos hit a snag, Matuidi was constantly sweeping across and disrupting.

Bayern’s secondary attackers still found it hard to push forward cleanly.

Leon, always a keen observer, began to spot patterns. After a quick exchange with Alonso, he changed his approach—no longer fixated on Kroos alone.

He shifted his movement across his half, just like Matuidi, targeting anyone on Bayern’s right who might receive a pass.

Kroos, being less mobile, was reassigned to Alonso’s watch.

The change paid immediate dividends. Leon and Matuidi formed a midfield clamp that ratcheted up Real Madrid’s defensive intensity.

Kroos still had vision, but his passes now met resistance before they could do damage.

And asking Kroos to lead Bayern’s tempo and break through on his own? That wasn’t his game.

Mourinho, watching from the sidelines, nodded with satisfaction even before Karanka spoke up beside him.

”This kid’s brain is as sharp as ever. He spotted it—found the gap.”

Mourinho nodded again, though his words were more reserved.

”Don’t let your guard down yet. We’re defending well, yes, but Bayern’s wingers are elite. If Ribéry or Robben gets into rhythm, we’ll be in real danger.

And don’t forget, their midfield’s full of long-range shooters.”

Mourinho’s words had barely settled when Bayern unleashed a long shot—Alaba, charging in from the left, blasted one from thirty meters out.

Casillas, razor-focused, barely managed to push the shot out of the box.

And while Bayern were still lamenting their missed opportunity, Real Madrid counterattacked with lethal precision.

Modrić wasn’t starting today, so the first midfielder to burst upfield? Leon.

Marcelo, who had carried the ball down the wing before being closed down by Lahm, cut the ball back to Leon in the center.

Bastian Schweinsteiger and Javi Martínez immediately tracked back—one dropping, one closing in.

It looked like a textbook containment.

But just as Leon approached Martínez, he exploded—a sudden, violent acceleration that blew past the Bayern midfielder.

It didn’t matter that Martínez wasn’t slow for his size. Against Leon’s burst, his turn looked like a tanker ship trying to spin around.

Before Bayern’s backline could collapse, Leon sent a pinpoint, diagonal lob pass over the top.

Not only did he avoid direct confrontation with Boateng, he also set up Cristiano Ronaldo perfectly in stride inside the box.

If Boateng had been the one to mark Ronaldo, maybe the attack would’ve ended there.

But it was Dante—a fine defender, but no match for Ronaldo’s explosiveness.

Ronaldo brought the ball down with his chest, adjusted his stride, and struck a scorching volley toward the near post.

Technique? Perfect.

Power? Impeccable.

The Madrid fans—over 40,000 in the stands—were already on their feet, ready to explode.

And then—a hand flashed into the frame on the broadcast.

Neuer.

At this critical moment of the half, Manuel Neuer pulled off a superhuman save, diving full-stretch to push Ronaldo’s shot just wide.

The shock and awe reversed—Madrid fans gasped in disbelief; Bayern fans roared with relief.

But the danger wasn’t over.

Inside Bayern’s box, chaos reigned.

Boateng, scrambling back, saw the ball flying straight at him—but he’d overrun it.

In desperation, he twisted his body and swung his heel in a wild attempt to clear.

The idea was right—tap it out of the box—but his touch missed the sweet spot.

The ball skittered, directionless, and floated toward the penalty spot.

Both teams froze, unsure of the bounce.

Benzema, who had slowed down thinking the play was dead, suddenly found the ball floating toward him like a gift from the heavens.

He blinked, raised his foot, and instinctively redirected the ball toward goal.

Neuer, still recovering from his dive, couldn’t do anything this time.

The ball bounced across the line and hit the back of the net.

Goal.

Leon, who had followed the play into the box, jumped onto Benzema’s back, laughing and shouting:

”My assist! My assist’s gone!”

His teammates didn’t hear the joke over the deafening roar.

Benzema, with Leon on his back, ran toward the corner flag, joined by a wave of celebrating Madrid players.

What a wild, chaotic, hilarious goal.

The tension in the stadium finally shattered—the Madrid fans could now breathe, leap, and cheer their hearts out.

On the Bayern bench, Heynckes smacked the roof in frustration.

Then he paused, eyes narrowing, watching Leon in the center of the celebration.

Leon, who had been disciplined and defensive all half, had made one forward run—and it created the breakthrough.

Technically, Leon didn’t get the assist. Benzema’s goal looked like a scrappy rebound.

But Heynckes saw everything clearly.

No Leon run, no through ball, no Ronaldo shot, no rebound.

He fell silent, thinking:

”Is that kid Mourinho’s bluff… or his trump card?”

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