Become A Football Legend

Chapter 352: Debut (Updated)

The crowd buzzed in anticipation.

Lukas accelerated directly at them anyway.

The ball stayed glued to his feet as he dragged it forward with quick little touches, forcing both defenders to keep retreating while trying to predict which direction he would explode toward.

He suddenly leaned toward the outside flank.

Lodi bit.

Then Lukas snapped the ball back inside between both defenders.

Neves stuck out a leg and managed to get the faintest touch on it, but the deflection only caused the ball to wobble awkwardly beyond him.

Lukas stretched immediately, hooked the ball back under control before it could escape, and burst into the edge of the penalty area.

Koulibaly stepped up.

Lukas shaped his body like he was about to shoot.

Koulibaly planted himself to block.

Instead, Lukas shifted the ball onto his other foot with a tiny touch and slipped a perfectly weighted pass through the gap toward Haaland.

The Norwegian hit it first time from just inside the box.

Bono flew across goal spectacularly and somehow clawed it away with both hands.

Haaland turned around in disbelief.

Lukas stared at the goalkeeper for half a second before laughing to himself.

On the touchline, Pep Guardiola clapped repeatedly, shouting instructions while clearly loving what he was seeing.

Al Hilal survived again.

Barely.

But they were dangerous too.

Malcom nearly punished City on the counterattack moments later after racing away from Akanji, only for Ederson to make a strong save at his near post. Then Milinković-Savić sent a header inches wide from a corner as the match became increasingly chaotic entering the final minutes.

And then came the 85th minute.

Rodri switched play toward the right side once more.

Lukas controlled it near the touchline.

Immediately the stadium rose in anticipation.

Lodi squared up again.

This time there was no support arriving quickly enough. freeweɓnøvel.com

One versus one.

Lukas feinted toward the outside before suddenly cutting inside onto his left foot.

Lodi recovered.

Another defender stepped across.

Lukas shaped to shoot.

The defender threw himself into the lane—

but Lukas delayed it.

One more touch forward.

Another Al Hilal shirt rushed across.

Again Lukas opened his body like he was about to curl it toward the far corner.

The defender planted himself to block.

Again Lukas refused the shot.

Another touch.

Another cut.

He kept gliding laterally across the box while defenders desperately shifted in front of him one after another, each convinced the shot was finally coming.

The crowd noise kept building.

Now he was nearly central.

Koulibaly stepped forward.

Lukas shaped his body toward the far post again, opening his hips fully this time.

Bono reacted with him, already beginning to shift across goal expecting the curled finish.

But instead—

Lukas whipped his foot across the ball and slid the shot low back across the goalkeeper toward the near corner.

Wrong-footed.

Bono tried to react.

Too late.

The ball skipped across the grass and buried itself inside the net.

2 – 2.

Camping World Stadium exploded.

Lukas spun away instantly, roaring as adrenaline flooded through him. His teammates sprinted toward him from every direction while the City supporters behind the goal erupted in chaos.

"And THERE IT IS!" Andrés Cordero shouted over the noise. "LUKAS BRANDT HAS ARRIVED!"

Pep Guardiola punched the air on the touchline.

Haaland reached him first, grabbing him around the shoulders while shouting something directly into his face.

Bernardo Silva was laughing.

Doku looked stunned.

And somewhere behind them, Renan Lodi stood bent over with his hands on his knees, completely exhausted after one of the longest halves of football he had probably experienced in years.

But City were not done after Lukas’ equalizer.

Al Hilal tried to respond immediately after the restart, pushing numbers forward in search of another late goal, and for a brief moment the match became stretched again.

Too stretched.

Exactly the kind of situation Manchester City’s attackers loved.

In the ninety-third minute, Ruben Dias stepped in front of a pass near midfield and immediately gave it to Rodri. Rodri barely took two touches before sliding the ball out toward Doku on the left flank.

And suddenly there was space.

Real space.

Doku accelerated instantly.

João Cancelo tried to match him stride for stride, but Doku pushed the ball ahead and exploded past him down the flank, carrying City from one end of the pitch to the other in seconds.

The Al Hilal defenders started retreating desperately.

Haaland was already sprinting through the middle.

Lukas was arriving on the opposite side.

Doku drove toward the edge of the box before shaping his body like he was going to take the shot himself. Koulibaly stepped toward him to close the angle—

and that was all the opening he needed.

Doku slipped the pass perfectly across the defensive line.

Straight into Haaland’s path.

The Norwegian met it in stride and smashed the finish low past Bono before the goalkeeper could fully set himself.

3–2.

The City bench exploded.

Haaland roared as he wheeled away toward the corner flag, pounding his chest while Doku sprinted after him laughing.

And Lukas, breathing heavily near the edge of the area after sprinting the length of the counterattack himself, just shook his head slightly while watching Haaland celebrate. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

Now that looked inevitable.

* * *

The final whistle came moments later.

Relief flooded through the Manchester City players immediately after the restart. A few of them dropped their heads back and exhaled deeply while others raised their fists toward the traveling supporters behind the goal.

The match had nearly slipped away from them.

Instead, they had survived.

And their youngest player had dragged them across the line.

Lukas clapped above his head as he walked toward the City fans together with the rest of the squad. The supporters were still singing loudly, many of them now chanting his name after just thirty minutes on the pitch.

"Lukas! Lukas! Lukas!"

The sound followed him across the grass.

He looked up toward the stands and spotted Joanna near the front rows beside João and Javi. Joanna smiled immediately and waved both hands toward him. Lukas pointed briefly toward her before applauding the supporters again together with the team.

Nearby, Haaland walked over and wrapped an arm around Lukas’ shoulders while they slowly made their way back toward the tunnel.

"Bro," Haaland said, shaking his head with a grin, "you should’ve had two assists today. My bad."

Lukas laughed lightly. "It’s fine."

"No, seriously," Haaland continued. "Next time I finish those. Just keep serving balls like that and I promise we’ll win everything."

"As long as you keep making the runs," Lukas replied, "I’ll keep trying to find you."

Haaland pointed dramatically at the number on Lukas’ back.

"This number 17 shirt," he said, "it really has a spirit."

Lukas raised an eyebrow. "What spirit?"

"The spirit to find Erling Haaland every five seconds."

That made Lukas laugh properly.

"Obviously," he said.

Haaland slapped the back of his head lightly before jogging ahead toward the tunnel while still grinning.

Inside the dressing room, the atmosphere was much lighter now.

Music played quietly from somewhere in the background while players sat around cooling down, changing out of soaked training gear, drinking recovery shakes, or replaying moments from the match to each other.

Doku was still joking about Lukas terrorizing Lodi.