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Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

Chapter 146: We Are Here—Real Madrid Is Right Here! · Nov 11, 2026

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Chapter List (401)

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101 Chapter 101: Formation Core Leon — Bringing the XJBT Tactic to Real Madrid 2026-11-11
102 Chapter 102: You Can Be Better Looking Than Me, But Dirtier? Never—Because I’m the True Defensive Midfielder! 2026-11-11
103 Chapter 103: Don’t Panic, Xiao Ping—Barça Will Deliver 2026-11-11
104 Chapter 104: Breaking Through the Long Pass Barrier, Filling the Shortcomings 2026-11-11
105 Chapter 105: A Gift for Everyone—So No One Gets to Laugh at Anyone Else 2026-11-11
106 Chapter 106: When It’s a Friend, You Hit Even Harder 2026-11-11
107 Chapter 107: The Meaning of Real Madrid Is Victory—It Is Championship 2026-11-11
108 Chapter 108: They Came to Madrid Saying They Were Here to Win—And Got Beaten 3–0 Again 2026-11-11
109 Chapter 109: This Is Mourinho’s Trump Card—The Midfield Beast Trio PLUS Edition! 2026-11-11
110 Chapter 110: Barcelona, Salute This Season’s La Liga Champions! 2026-11-11
111 Chapter 111: A World Apart—You Can’t Turtle Up Against Bayern, Turtling Won’t Save You 2026-11-11
112 Chapter 112: I Told You—Leon Would Be the Key to Breaking Bayern Down! 2026-11-11
113 Chapter 113: On the Battle for Possession—Mourinho Says, “You’re All Trash Compared to Me” 2026-11-11
114 Chapter 114: Real Madrid’s Championship Aura Can’t Be Hidden Anymore—So They Won’t Hide It! 2026-11-11
115 Chapter 115: Barcelona’s Dynasty Has Ended—And Real Madrid Is Climbing to the Summit! 2026-11-11
116 Chapter 116: There’s No Shortcut to This Championship—Only Unity, Only Sacrifice 2026-11-11
117 Chapter 117: Equalized by a Header? We’re Not Bayern Munich! 2026-11-11
118 Chapter 118: Few Teams Are as Resilient as You—But I Just Want to Win 2026-11-11
119 Chapter 119: Let the Whole World Remember Our Names—We Are the Greatest Mourinho-Era Madrid! 2026-11-11
120 Chapter 120: When You Gaze Upon the Crown, Bow Your Head—And Salute the Treble Winners 2026-11-11
121 Chapter 121: In a Summer Window of an Arms Race, Madrid’s Selling Strategy Feels Out of Place 2026-11-11
122 Chapter 122: A New Era Begins—When the Young Replace the Old, Football Marches On 2026-11-11
123 Chapter 123: The New Generation Replaces the Old—A New Era in Football Has Arrived 2026-11-11
124 Chapter 124: We’re Still Growing—Real Madrid Is Still Growing! 2026-11-11
125 Chapter 125: If Anyone Forces Me to Pick a Side—I’ll Flip the Damn Table (Part 1) 2026-11-11
126 Chapter 126: There’s No Need to Overcomplicate Things Against Barça – Just Stick to Counterattacks and Aerial Balls 2026-11-11
127 Chapter 127: Watch Out—Here Comes Real Madrid’s Aerial Attack Squad! 2026-11-11
128 Chapter 128: Why Does That Number Ten Keep Charging Into Our Box?! 2026-11-11
129 Chapter 129: Luka, You’re My Natural-Born Midfield Partner 2026-11-11
130 Chapter 130: Winning a Trophy as Soon as You Arrive—So This Is What It Feels Like to Be at a Big Club? 2026-11-11
131 Chapter 131: The Fifth Trophy of the Year — Kings of Europe 2026-11-11
132 Chapter 132: The Birth of a New Midfield Duo — Twin Turbo Engines Engage! 2026-11-11
133 Chapter 133: So You Guys Are the So-Called New Kings of the Premier League? 2026-11-11
134 Chapter 134: You’re Not Vieira, and You’re Not Even Close 2026-11-11
135 Chapter 135: Li Ang Isn’t in the Top Five Defensive Midfielders—He Just Beat Two of Them 2026-11-11
136 Chapter 136: This Season’s ”Father-Son Match” Came Awfully Early 2026-11-11
137 Chapter 137: Sometimes, Charging Forward Is the Best Way to Break the Game 2026-11-11
138 Chapter 138: I Can Choose Not to Shoot—But You Don’t Dare Not to Defend 2026-11-11
139 Chapter 139: Farewell to the Jia Mansion—Same Atmosphere, Same Opening 2026-11-11
140 Chapter 140: Messi Drops Deep Early—A Smarter Barça 2026-11-11
141 Chapter 141: Wait, What? You Both Chickened Out? Just Fight Already! 2026-11-11
142 Chapter 142: Header Equalizer! Li Ang Only Scores in Clutch Moments! 2026-11-11
143 Chapter 143: Götze’s Hunger to Compete—The Battle of the ’90s Generation Stars 2026-11-11
144 Chapter 144: Come On—Show Us What You’ve Got, Challenge the Defending Champions! 2026-11-11
145 Chapter 145: Don’t Break Down—It’s Just That I’m Better Than You 2026-11-11
146 Chapter 146: We Are Here—Real Madrid Is Right Here! 2026-11-11
147 Chapter 147: Chaos Unleashed—Atlético Charges In Swinging a Giant Blade 2026-11-11
148 Chapter 148: Want to Advance? Now You Have to Look at Real Madrid’s Face 2026-11-11
149 Chapter 149: The Madman’s Temper—Public Opinion Erupts! 2026-11-11
150 Chapter 150: If You Can’t Get Past Li Ang, You Don’t Deserve to Face Pepe and Ramos 2026-11-11

Götze’s inability to impose himself on the game left Borussia Dortmund stuck, unable to break through.

And after watching the first half-hour of play, even Götze’s most loyal fans had to admit it:

Li Ang’s defensive performance had completely compensated for his current lack of attacking flair.

And not just compensated—his timing, positioning, and even occasional forward surges were already more than sufficient. Exactly what Real Madrid needed.

All things considered, there was no longer any need to compare Götze and Li Ang. The comparison itself had become meaningless.

Götze was a gifted attacking prodigy, a future offensive engine destined to be a key figure at the highest levels of the sport.

But Li Ang’s ceiling?

A team’s cornerstone.

Not just for any team—a superclub.

So any clear-headed fan would understand: after this head-to-head, the comparisons could end.

Li Ang had once again delivered a head-to-head ”lesson” to another star of the ’90s generation.

And maybe, just maybe, he’d pressed Götze so hard that Klopp was forced to make a tactical shift mid-match—reducing Götze’s touches and transferring attacking responsibility to Reus.

And what a threat Marco Reus was.

Still relatively new to Dortmund, the ”Little Rocket” had already conquered the hearts of the Yellow Wall.

When the team struggled in attack, he didn’t hesitate. He stepped up, carried the load, and led from the front.

That confidence came from his success at Borussia Mönchengladbach.

Last season, Reus had played 37 games for Gladbach, scoring 21 goals and providing 12 assists.

Robben, by contrast, had played 36 games for Bayern—18 goals, 7 assists.

They were both injury-prone, sure. But in terms of production?

Reus had the edge.

If he could stay fit for a full 45-match season, he was looking at a 25+15 campaign. Robben’s 20+10? Also realistic.

In today’s game, where wingers rarely averaged a goal involvement per game, that was ridiculously efficient.

And now, with his status slightly reduced at Dortmund compared to Gladbach, he was still producing. No longer the sole focal point of attack, yet still consistent.

That proved one thing: Reus didn’t need a system built around him to shine. He had pure, unfiltered ability.

Marcelo was getting torched.

Essien, who had once covered admirably, was now repeatedly calling for help.

His age and past injuries were catching up with him.

Essien could still handle technical players. Could body up the strong, the skilled.

But against an explosive sprinter like Reus?

He was struggling.

Speed doesn’t care about experience.

By the time you’ve positioned yourself, Reus is already gone.

Before, when Reus had fewer touches, Essien and Marcelo could hold firm together.

But now that Reus was the focal point?

Essien passed the baton to his ”old man.”

Mourinho stared at the havoc unfolding down Madrid’s left flank and couldn’t help but sigh. If only Coentrão weren’t injured…

”This kid—wasn’t he released by Dortmund’s academy back in the day?”

Karanka, watching Reus tear up Real’s shape, couldn’t help but shake his head.

So much raw talent, and Dortmund’s academy had let him go?

Sure, maybe his physicality had once been a concern. But with this much explosiveness and technical ceiling, how do you not take the time to develop him?

Add bulk slowly. Build him up year by year. That’s how you nurture talent.

Karanka kept grumbling about Dortmund’s scouting.

But Mourinho had more pressing concerns.

He needed to stop Reus.

”If I swap Li Ang and Essien, it could work. But then Götze…”

Torn between two problems, Mourinho made the call: Li Ang would move to the left to help contain Reus.

Solve the biggest issue first. Patch the rest later.

Instructions were issued. On the Dortmund bench, Klopp sighed in relief.

He told Götze: it’s your time again.

If you can’t exploit this change and outperform Essien now, I’m subbing you off.

Gündoğan was ready and waiting.

That pressure kicked Götze into gear.

And Lewandowski? He was finally waking up too.

Even with little time left in the first half, Dortmund began to rattle Madrid’s backline.

But Madrid’s defensive shell held. They escaped to halftime still leading 1–0.

Mourinho knew, though—he had a problem.

Back in the locker room, Essien owned up.

”I did okay in the first 20 minutes. But once Reus went full speed, I couldn’t keep up.”

It wasn’t an excuse. It was reality.

Essien wasn’t ducking responsibility. He just wanted what was best for the team.

Madrid’s veterans understood.

If subbing him out meant someone fresher could lock down the flank, he’d accept it.

But Mourinho wasn’t sure yet.

He chose to delay the sub and keep Essien on the pitch to start the second half.

Bad idea.

Within minutes, it was clear—Götze was on fire.

Li Ang was still pinned left dealing with Reus. The center was vulnerable.

Klopp went all in.

With Reus pulling Li Ang wide, Dortmund overloaded the center.

Lewandowski still wasn’t getting touches inside the box.

But Götze and Reus?

They were blasting shots from either side of the arc.

In just ten minutes, Casillas made three brilliant saves.

Mourinho saw enough.

In the 57th minute, he pulled the trigger.

”Modrić is coming on... for Essien!”

Duan Xuan’s voice was tinged with surprise.

That wasn’t a Mourinho-like change. Not mid-match. Not at 1–0.

But if you’d followed him for the past year, you’d know—Mourinho had changed.

The man who once played it safe was now unafraid to gamble.

Because when you’re playing to win the Champions League, you don’t manage with fear.

Back when Real Madrid went toe-to-toe with Barcelona and Bayern in all-out attacking duels, they proved once and for all that their offensive capabilities were among the best in Europe.

Last season, they’d beaten both of those giants without shying away from a firefight. So why, in this season, would they fear Dortmund?

If Klopp had the guts to come at Madrid full-force, then why should Mourinho hold back?

Losing at Signal Iduna Park because they were overrun offensively—that would be the real disgrace.

As the substitution neared completion on the sideline, Ronaldo and Di María finally had their outlet.

Both had been itching to speak up about tactics during halftime.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to defend. Against Barça, sure. But today, against Dortmund?

Why were they still playing cautiously?

Were they not on par with Reus and Götze?

Now that Mourinho had given the green light, they were ready to explode.

Dortmund had finished setting up their new tactical layout. Madrid completed their substitutions.

And the fire between the two teams was now undeniable.

In the 60th minute, Benzema’s header off a Ronaldo cross was the signal.

Madrid was done sitting back.

It was time to fight back.

Li Ang and Modrić took turns charging forward, feeding dangerous balls into the attack. And when the opportunity presented itself, Alonso’s surgical long balls sliced through Dortmund’s lines.

But Dortmund weren’t backing down either.

With Madrid’s back line stretched, Dortmund’s attacking trio finally had the room they needed to shine.

Lewandowski started finding more space and time. His technique on the ball became a real threat to Casillas.

And then, in the 66th minute, Reus struck first.

He managed to break into the penalty area, but as he prepared to shoot, Pepe’s mistimed challenge clipped him.

It wasn’t malicious, just a step late.

The referee pointed to the spot immediately—penalty for Dortmund.

Pepe escaped a booking, but Madrid were now under siege.

Lewandowski stepped up.

With no hesitation, he blasted a half-height shot straight down the middle.

Casillas dove right. Wrong guess.

Goal. 1–1.

But Madrid? They didn’t panic.

They ignited.

The moment the whistle blew again, Madrid pushed their tempo even harder, hammering Dortmund’s back line from both flanks.

By the 70th minute, most teams would’ve started slowing down.

Players get tired. Movements lose precision. Mistakes creep in.

Even young legs start to falter.

But not Real Madrid.

The relentless preseason grind under fitness coach Pintus was paying off.

Madrid looked sharper, stronger, more durable.

Kehl was the first to crack—his legs locked up in the 77th minute. Klopp brought on Gündoğan to replace him.

And with Madrid refusing to slow down, even Klopp started pacing.

He had a choice now: pull everyone back, secure the draw, hold out.

But he didn’t.

He still believed Madrid couldn’t keep this pace.

He believed his forwards could still find a winner.

There was a glint of madness in Klopp’s eyes behind those glasses.

Across the pitch, Mourinho looked calm as ever.

In the 79th minute, Dortmund attacked again. Reus cut inside and rifled a low shot toward the near post.

Casillas hesitated, but Reus missed—off the outer post.

70,000 Dortmund fans groaned in unison.

On Spanish TV, the commentator gasped.

”Mourinho should park the bus now! Don’t risk the unbeaten streak!”

But Mourinho didn’t move.

And neither did Madrid.

They kept attacking.

Marcelo was practically playing as a left winger now. Ronaldo roamed freely inside the box.

In the 84th minute, Madrid lost the ball again—but Dortmund’s counter was stopped dead.

Li Ang, sprinting 30 meters, chased Götze down and stripped him clean.

Alonso immediately launched a long ball forward.

Marcelo, who’d remained upfield, controlled it with a silky first touch, slicing open Dortmund’s right side.

His cross was met by Hummels, who cleared.

But Modrić gathered the rebound outside the box and swung it back wide.

Dortmund’s defense was still scrambling.

Madrid’s next cross came in from Arbeloa, hard and fast.

The ball whizzed toward the penalty spot.

Subotić was tracking it, ready to jump.

But then—

A blur. A force. A presence.

A figure shot past him like a bullet—Li Ang.

He launched into the air, cutting across Subotić, his head slamming into the ball with unstoppable force.

Weidenfeller never saw it.

The ball screamed into the far corner.

Goal.

2–1.

Time seemed to freeze.

Li Ang crashed to the ground, stumbled to his feet, and then—ripped off his shirt, revealing his bronze, sweat-slicked torso.

”LI ANG——!!!!”

Duan Xuan nearly shattered the sound system.

Li Ang roared toward the corner flag, arms wide, sliding on his knees in pure release.

His teammates swarmed him, hugging, shouting, piling on.

From the bench, Mourinho sprinted onto the field, replicating Li Ang’s knee slide in the grass—suit and all.

Signal Iduna Park fell silent.

70,000 Dortmund fans were stunned.

Only one sound remained:

10,000 Real Madrid fans screaming into the night.

”WE ARE HERE.

REAL MADRID IS HERE.

At the very top of world football,

waiting for anyone brave enough to challenge the kings.”

Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.

Read 20 Chapters In Advance: /johanssen10

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