The rain at Old Trafford seemed to carry a special viscosity, a scent mixed with decades of glory and resentment.
Sixty minutes had passed in the match.
The scoreboard still showed a dull 0-0. But the atmosphere was anything but dull; instead, it was like a pressure cooker about to explode.
"Boo—!!!!!"
Whenever Lin Yuan touched the ball, the Stretford End would erupt in ear-piercing boos. Seventy thousand Red Devils fans tried to drown out this young captain from Chelsea with this wall of sound.
But Lin Yuan had no reaction to it.
On the contrary, he seemed to enjoy it.
In the 62nd minute, Garnacho used his speed on the left wing to blow past an exhausted Cucurella. The young Argentine starlet swept past like a gust of wind, and Old Trafford instantly boiled over.
"Stop him!!" Sánchez roared in terror in front of the goal.
Just as Garnacho was preparing to cut inside and shoot, a yellow captain's armband cut a trail of afterimages through the rainy night.
Lin Yuan charged in from thirty meters away. He didn't slow down or adjust his stride; instead, like a precision-guided missile, using his powerful core strength, he completed a lateral body block while running at high speed.
Bang!
Garnacho felt as if he had slammed into a moving city wall. His slight frame was sent flying, rolling three times on the slippery turf before coming to a stop.
"Clean defense!" Referee Michael Oliver held his arms out wide, signaling for play to continue.
Lin Yuan didn't even glance at the fallen Garnacho, passing the ball directly to Enzo up ahead.
"Damn butcher!"
"He's killing people!"
The abuse from the stands grew louder, and a few radical fans even threw plastic cups onto the field.
Lin Yuan wiped the rain from his face, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.
[Ding!]
[Detected home fans' anger reaching peak levels. notoriety points +500 per instance.]
[Host's current physical state: 91% (Iron Lungs effect active).]
Look around.
His Chelsea teammates had reached their limit. Caicedo had his hands on his knees, gasping for air with glazed eyes; Enzo's movement had become sluggish, misplacing several passes due to weak legs; even Mudryk in the frontline began to stumble when sprinting back to defend.
This was a team on the brink of collapse.
Except for Lin Yuan.
He was like a tireless monster, tirelessly patching every hole in this leaking ship. Fixing the left, then the right; intercepting in the back, then charging to the front.
Manchester United manager Ten Hag rubbed his bald head on the sidelines, his brow furrowed: "That number 44... isn't he tired? That's his fifth full-speed sprint in twenty minutes!"
In the 70th minute, a controversial scene occurred.
Manchester United launched a counterattack. Antony took the ball on the right, and after spinning in circles three times, he finally passed the ball to Bruno Fernandes (Bruno) in the middle.
As the captain of Manchester United, Bruno was playing very frustrated tonight. Every time he touched the ball in midfield, he felt a chilling presence behind him.
This time, he dribbled into the area in front of the penalty box.
Lin Yuan closed in from the side and rear.
This was a very normal defensive distance; Lin Yuan didn't even stick out a foot, merely using his body to block the inside line, using the pressure brought by Shadow of the Special One to force Bruno to slow down.
However, the moment their bodies made slight contact—
"Ah!!!"
A shrill scream echoed through Old Trafford.
Bruno went down as if he had been hit by a sniper, launching himself into the air in an extremely exaggerated manner before crashing heavily to the ground, clutching his face and rolling in agony on the turf as if his leg were broken.
"Penalty! That's a penalty!"
"Red card him!"
Manchester United players instantly surrounded the referee. Antony and Dalot rushed up, shoving Lin Yuan and shouting trash talk.
The boos at Old Trafford turned into a deafening roar, putting all the pressure on referee Oliver.
Oliver frowned, his hand already reaching for his pocket.
Lin Yuan stood his ground, ignoring the shoving Antony and not explaining himself to the referee. He just looked down at the Portuguese man still "rolling in pain" on the ground.
Through the gaps in his fingers, Bruno was secretly observing the referee's reaction.
Seeing this, the coldness in Lin Yuan's eyes instantly froze into ice.
He hated two things most: first, weakness; second, deception. And Bruno's action was both weak and deceptive, and more importantly—it was an insult to his defensive ability.
"Putting on an act, are we?"
Lin Yuan pushed aside Antony, who was blocking him, and strode over to Bruno.
"Hey! Stay away from him!" Oliver blew his whistle and ran over to stop him.
But it was too late.
Lin Yuan leaned down, his large, vein-streaked hand grabbing Bruno's collar directly.
The next second, a shocking scene occurred.
Under the gaze of seventy-five thousand people, Lin Yuan used his strength to yank the lying Bruno into a semi-sitting position with one hand, like he was picking up a small chick!
Their faces were suddenly inches apart.
Bruno's eyes widened in terror, his "painful" expression instantly stiffening as he forgot to keep screaming.
"If you're a man, stand up straight."
Lin Yuan's voice was low, but through the pitchside microphones, it was clearly transmitted to every broadcast screen.
He pointed to the yellow captain's armband on his own arm, then pointed to the armband on Bruno's.
"Are you even fit to wear this?"
Lin Yuan let go and gave a sharp shove.
Bruno stumbled back two steps and managed to steady himself—which also directly proved that his "broken leg" from a moment ago was pure acting.
At this moment, the whole stadium was in an uproar.
"Oh! My God! What kind of strength is that?!" In the Sky Sports commentary box, Roy Keane (Manchester United legend) slammed the table, but there was no anger in his eyes; instead, they sparkled with a strange light. "I like this kid! This is the kind of captain Manchester United should have. Too bad he's at Chelsea!"
A massive confrontation instantly erupted between the two sets of players.
Onana rushed out from his goal demanding an explanation, and Maguire also charged forward. On Chelsea's side, although everyone was dead tired, seeing their captain surrounded, Disasi and Colwill immediately rushed up to protect Lin Yuan.
The scene was chaotic.
Referee Oliver spent a great deal of effort to separate the crowd.
He called Lin Yuan and Bruno over.
At this moment, the prompt from the Video Assistant Referee (VAR) arrived: "No foul, it was a clear dive."
Oliver nodded.
He first showed a yellow card to Bruno—penalizing the dive.
Half of Old Trafford instantly went silent.
Immediately after, he showed a yellow card to Lin Yuan—penalizing unsporting behavior (provoking an opponent).
"You didn't have to grab him with your hand," Oliver warned.
"If I didn't grab him, he'd still be rolling on the ground until next year," Lin Yuan replied coldly, turning to walk away.
Bruno stood there, his face flushed red. He watched the back of that departing number 44, the sense of humiliation feeling worse than losing the game. The moment Lin Yuan picked him up, that absolute physical dominance and the contempt in his eyes made him feel a deep sense of self-doubt.
His mentality collapsed.
Over the next ten minutes, Manchester United's midfield fell into complete disarray.
Desperate to reclaim his dignity, Bruno began to frequently attempt long-range shots and over-the-top long balls, resulting in either sending them into the stands or passing directly to Chelsea defenders. The more anxious he became, the more mistakes he made.
And Lin Yuan was like a precise hunter, completing an interception every time Bruno's mentality faltered.
85th minute.
The rain fell heavier and heavier.
The stamina of the entire Chelsea team had hit the red line. Enzo was even limping slightly as he ran.
Mourinho watched his watch anxiously from the sidelines, clutching his final substitution, but he didn't dare take Lin Yuan off.
Because at this very moment, the man wearing the yellow armband and carrying a yellow card was single-handedly propping up the entire spine of the team.
"Can you still run?" Enzo asked breathlessly as they passed the center circle.
Lin Yuan wiped the rain from his face, his dark eyes shining terrifyingly bright under the lights.
"This is nothing."
He glanced at the somewhat panicked Manchester United backline.
"Get ready to celebrate. These Red Devils are already scared out of their wits."
The Tyrant's hunt has only just begun.
--------
Guys if you want to support me and read some chapters in advance please do check out Pitreon.com/AnonymousWriter6