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Starting as a Defensive Midfielder at Real Madrid

Chapter 290 288: Luiz, Don’t Let Your Loyalty Ruin You · Nov 11, 2026

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Chapter List (401)

Page number / 9

251 Chapter 251 249: What the Hell, You Still Dare to Fight Back? 2026-11-11
252 Chapter 252 250: Iron-Blooded Blow to Özil, 8-Goal Rout of PSG 2026-11-11
253 Chapter 253 251: Facing Barça in the Quarterfinals — Li Ang’s Smile! 2026-11-11
254 Chapter 254 252: Arsenal, It’s Time to Stop Dreaming 2026-11-11
255 Chapter 255 253: I Don’t Want to Say Chelsea Will Clinch the Title Early, But That’s the Reality 2026-11-11
256 Chapter 256 254: Returning to Camp Nou Feels Just Like Coming Home~ 2026-11-11
257 Chapter 257 255: Damn, Messi, You’re Actually Going All Out?! 2026-11-11
258 Chapter 258 256: The Counterattack Begins Now! 2026-11-11
259 Chapter 259 257: What We’re Doing Is Pure Torment—Crying? That Counts Against the Clock Too 2026-11-11
260 Chapter 260 258: Stop Scoring, Man—You’re Already Fourth in the Premier League Golden Boot Race 2026-11-11
261 Chapter 261 259: See You Next Year, Leo 2026-11-11
262 Chapter 262 260: The Red Devils Are Dead—Long Live the Blues! 2026-11-11
263 Chapter 263 261: The Champions League Is Full of Giants Lining Up to Get Revenge on Li Ang 2026-11-11
264 Chapter 264 262: Chelsea’s Midfield and Defense Still Need Major Reinforcements! 2026-11-11
265 Chapter 265 263: Hey Kuan, Bro, The Boss Here’s Generous—High Salary, Come Quick! 2026-11-11
266 Chapter 266 264: You Know It—The Little Lion’s My Brother, and Zlatan’s a Beast 2026-11-11
267 Chapter 267 265: Reinforcements Assembled, Legends Return—This Time, We’re Taking It All! 2026-11-11
268 Chapter 268 266: Li Ang, When Are You Winning the Ballon d’Or and Becoming a Grand Slam Champion? 2026-11-11
269 Chapter 269 267: A Dominant First Win—The Rise of the Galactic Chelsea Begins 2026-11-11
270 Chapter 270 268: The “British Battleship” Makes His Premier League Debut — The Excellent Maguire 2026-11-11
271 Chapter 271 269: Not a Single One Can Keep Up 2026-11-11
272 Chapter 272 270: Rotation? Even Chelsea’s Rotation Is a European-Class Powerhouse 2026-11-11
273 Chapter 273 271: Replicating Kaka’s 2007 Season? Why Not! 2026-11-11
274 Chapter 274 272: A Premier League El Clásico Reimagined 2026-11-11
275 Chapter 275 273: Guardiola, I Am Your Nemesis! 2026-11-11
276 Chapter 276 274: Your Blade Is Sharp, But So Is Mine 2026-11-11
277 Chapter 277 275: Premier League’s Finest—A Duel Between Possession and Relentless Pressing 2026-11-11
278 Chapter 278 276: In This Era, I Am Destiny! 2026-11-11
279 Chapter 279 277: A Hat-Trick to Be Crowned! The One True God of the Premier League! 2026-11-11
280 Chapter 280 278: Ambition on All Three Fronts 2026-11-11
281 Chapter 281 279: It’s Not That We Played Well—The Opponent Was Just That Bad 2026-11-11
282 Chapter 282 280: What, Arsenal Wants to Be the New Top Dog Too? 2026-11-11
283 Chapter 283 281: Eden, Stand with Me at the Summit of World Football 2026-11-11
284 Chapter 284 282: Everyone’s Showing Off—Except United, Who Are Getting Beaten Up 2026-11-11
285 Chapter 285 283: Tyrant Leon 2026-11-11
286 Chapter 286 284: Smashing the Face of the Premier League’s ”Top Club” 2026-11-11
287 Chapter 287 285: Double Digits in the League – Top Scorer in the Premier League! 2026-11-11
288 Chapter 288 286: Closer to the Ballon d’Or Than He Ever Imagined 2026-11-11
289 Chapter 289 287: I Want to Face the Strongest—But If It’s Barça First, That’s Fine Too 2026-11-11
290 Chapter 290 288: Luiz, Don’t Let Your Loyalty Ruin You 2026-11-11
291 Chapter 291 289: If You Ever Get the Chance, Think About Us—I’ll Be Waiting at Stamford Bridge 2026-11-11
292 Chapter 292 290: The Winning Streak Ends, But an Undefeated Title Run Is Still Possible 2026-11-11
293 Chapter 293 291: Little Lion, Are You Seriously Going for the Golden Boot?! 2026-11-11
294 Chapter 294 292: Time for Everyone’s Favorite Event—Beating Spurs Again 2026-11-11
295 Chapter 295 293: He’s Already a Young Legend 2026-11-11
296 Chapter 296 294: Someone Please Shut His Mouth Next Time! 2026-11-11
297 Chapter 297 295: Aiming for a New Midseason Record—Time to Sharpen the Blade Against Sky City 2026-11-11
298 Chapter 298 296: Nineteen Wins, the Big Boss of the League—A Perfect Midseason Finish! 2026-11-11
299 Chapter 299 297: 2014 Silver Ball Winner—Leon! 2026-11-11
300 Chapter 300 298: Hype Helps, but Performance Is What Truly Matters 2026-11-11

There were plenty of moments when Barcelona fans just wanted to sew Leon’s mouth shut.

Especially after this Champions League group stage match, when Leon jokingly said he wouldn’t mind facing Barcelona again—well, that was it.

Barça fans all over the internet instantly erupted, demanding Leon to ”shut up!”

And who could blame them? When Leon spoke, fate seemed to listen.

Just last season, Leon had pulled this same stunt.

And sure enough, Chelsea ended up facing Barcelona in the knockout rounds—

only to dominate them over two legs, leaving Barça fans without a single counterargument.

Barcelona supporters would’ve loved to clap back.

But with their team currently trailing PSG in Group F, they weren’t exactly in a position to talk tough.

After all, you never know what UEFA might cook up behind the scenes.

If Barça failed to beat PSG and didn’t reclaim first place in the group,

there was a real chance they’d finish second—and possibly get drawn against Chelsea.

Chelsea vs. Barcelona, with all the drama that comes with it.

Leon’s feud with Barça fans, his love-hate saga with Messi…

If those two teams met again, the headlines would write themselves.

UEFA wouldn’t pass up that kind of media frenzy.

But Leon wasn’t trolling for attention—he really did want to face the strongest sides this season.

If you wanted to win the Champions League, you couldn’t bank on favorable draws or easy opponents all the way to the final.

You had to take down the giants early, build momentum and confidence, and sharpen your blade for the even tougher challenges ahead.

Without a heart that burns to beat the strongest,

you could stumble your way to the final and still leave empty-handed.

If Leon had his way, he’d go straight for Barça in the round of 16,

then face Dortmund or Atlético in the quarters,

Juventus and their steel-wall defense in the semis—maybe test Pogba’s credentials—

and finally, take revenge on Bayern in the final.

If he could run that gauntlet and lift the trophy?

That would be the ultimate coronation.

He wasn’t avoiding Madrid because they weren’t strong.

This year’s Real still had what it took to reach the final.

He just didn’t want to face his former teammates, his brothers, the Bernabéu fans—as an opponent.

Still, if it came down to it, he’d give his all. That, too, would be a sign of respect.

Fortunately, with Madrid winning all four of their group games so far,

both they and Chelsea had already locked up top spot in their respective groups.

At least for the round of 16, Leon didn’t have to worry about drawing his old club.

On the flight back to London, Leon scrolled through his social media, grinning at the ”friendly” messages from Barça fans.

He replied to a few—mostly to amuse himself.

And suddenly, the Barça fans found themselves flustered.

Leon had always been known for clapping back at rival fans online.

But that was years ago—back when he had just broken out and didn’t yet have a massive fanbase.

Most top-tier players these days stayed far away from internet spats.

Not Leon. He was built different.

Three years ago, he’d called out Barça fans directly in his own comment section.

Three years later, nothing had changed.

At first, the Barça faithful didn’t think he’d reply.

But once they realized he was actually responding—and roasting them with unmatched precision—they were both stunned and thrilled.

It became clear that when it came to trash talk,

Leon’s national roots were showing. He was a master of the craft.

Of course, he only fired back when someone crossed the line first.

He wouldn’t do this kind of thing back home.

China’s internet was a minefield—packed with watchdogs and morality police.

There, the rule of thumb was simple:

”The more famous you are, the more wrong you are.”

But among Europe’s looser, rougher online communities?

Leon’s fearless comebacks made fans love him even more.

Still, Mendes eventually called to shut the whole thing down.

No need to apologize, but the online back-and-forth had to stop.

After a night of proper rest back in London,

Leon casually drove to Cobham Training Centre the next morning.

Once back in the rhythm of training, the media noise faded into the background.

Chelsea had only three days of recovery after their Champions League fixture

before facing their next Premier League challenge—Liverpool, away at Anfield.

And this was no easy task.

Sure, this season Liverpool had slipped back into their chaotic ”giant-slayer, minnow-killer” routine—

beating Spurs one week, losing to Villa the next.

But when they played at Anfield, they could flip any script.

Every team in England knew that home Liverpool and away Liverpool might as well be two different clubs.

Mourinho was determined not to become Liverpool’s next high-profile victim.

So after some intense, condensed preparation, he brought every senior starter to Anfield,

and rolled out his most reliable 4-2-3-1.

Last match against Maribor may have been a blowout, but Chelsea had secured that win quickly and efficiently—

meaning the squad wasn’t overly fatigued.

So this time, all of Chelsea’s veterans were back in the XI.

The only change came in midfield.

Kroos, nursing a minor ankle injury from training, was rested.

De Bruyne stepped into his role to partner with Leon.

It was De Bruyne’s first match as a holding midfielder for Chelsea.

Naturally, the press was buzzing with curiosity over how he’d perform.

On November 8th, at 13:45, Liverpool vs. Chelsea—Matchweek 11—kicked off at Anfield.

And as the teams squared up, commentators around the world began breaking down both lineups

before the battle hit full stride.

Liverpool took the pitch today in a classic 4-3-3 formation.

In goal stood Belgium’s number two keeper, Simon Mignolet.

Across the back line from left to right were Moreno, Lovren, Škrtel, and Glen Johnson.

In midfield, Emre Can and Jordan Henderson took the flanks while Steven Gerrard anchored the center.

Up front, the trio of Sterling, Suárez, and Coutinho—now a fixed attacking unit—led the line.

Daniel Sturridge’s persistent injuries had robbed him of the consistent brilliance he showed last season.

Had he stayed fit, Liverpool would no doubt have stuck with the deadly 4-4-2.

After all, the Suárez-Sturridge duo had combined for 50 direct goals, with total contributions nearing 65.

If Sturridge had remained healthy, there would’ve been no question:

Liverpool’s attack would be the most potent in the Premier League—hands down.

But fate had other plans.

Perhaps the football gods wanted Liverpool’s rise to come with a few more complications.

Suárez had managed to avoid any biting scandals in either the World Cup or the league.

He stayed. Stayed loyal to Liverpool.

But in return, he lost his most reliable partner.

Now, flanked by the still-developing Sterling and Coutinho, Suárez often felt like a caretaker more than a striker.

He had the numbers—six goals and three assists in the first ten league matches—

but Sterling and Coutinho were inconsistent, offering brilliance one game and chaos the next.

Add to that a defense prone to inexplicable errors...

And suddenly, Suárez’s individual output just wasn’t enough.

Four wins, four losses, two draws after ten rounds.

Liverpool’s form told the story.

And Suárez was starting to question whether staying had been the right choice.

Especially now—watching Ibrahimović drop back into Chelsea’s half, hustling and pressing alongside his teammates—Suárez couldn’t help but feel envy.

He knew he could do everything Ibra was doing. In fact, he believed he could do it better.

Last season, he had more goals and assists than Ibra.

He could press, drop deep, link up, defend.

Ibra was 33. Suárez was 27.

So why was Ibra winning trophies while he was grinding for survival?

Last season, Suárez walked away empty-handed.

Meanwhile, Ibra—after just one year in England—already had a Premier League title and a League Cup in his pocket.

It wasn’t fair—but it was.

Suárez didn’t resent Liverpool for failing him. He blamed himself for choosing them.

”…Liverpool’s wing play is struggling today,” Jian Jun narrated from the studio. ”With Chelsea’s double-pivot shielding, Sterling and Coutinho just don’t have space to break through.

Suárez is forced to drop deep to help link up—brilliant dribble! He lays it off—Emre Can!

Oh no… why shoot from there?! That was so unnecessary! Can wastes it with a hopeful strike!

Cech collects easily—and here comes Chelsea on the counter!”

Jian Jun nearly cursed at Can’s decision.

But the rapid shift on the pitch didn’t give him time to dwell.

Cech rolled the ball out quickly.

De Bruyne, wasting no time, zipped a grounded pass through the middle.

The ball slipped right past Gerrard’s interception attempt and found Leon in stride.

Emre Can was still jogging back after his attack—a trait disturbingly reminiscent of Khedira’s national team days.

Henderson tried to commit a tactical foul, but even after going full throttle,

he found himself falling farther and farther behind Leon.

He couldn’t even get close enough to foul him.

With Agger no longer marshalling the back, Liverpool’s defense now rested on two bullish center-backs.

Lovren charged forward to close Leon down.

Škrtel, to his credit, held position and didn’t bite.

Ibra and Hazard both darted forward, distracting Škrtel and pulling his attention away.

Leon, however, didn’t feed either of them.

He simply bulldozed past Lovren, shouldering through the challenge and bursting into the final third.

Then—he slipped the ball to his right.

Salah, cutting diagonally into Liverpool’s penalty area, looked like a streak of blue lightning piercing a red heart.

Moreno tried to match him stride for stride, but Salah’s acceleration was a different class.

He surged ahead.

At the edge of the box, Salah used the skill he’d honed over months of special training with Chelsea’s coaches—

a lethal, signature curling shot with his stronger left foot.

It was a mirror of what Lukaku had worked on the year before: cutting inside and curling the ball into the far post.

Salah took the ball in stride and, without hesitation, unleashed a vicious left-footed curler.

The ball arced gracefully toward the top-right corner.

Mignolet dived, fully extended—

but it was a perfect strike. Power and precision, unstoppable.

He felt the ball graze his fingertips…

Then watched in despair as it nestled into the top corner of his net.

For nearly twenty minutes, Anfield had been roaring with energy.

Now, silence.

Then a roar—but not from the Reds. From the traveling Blues.

Salah ran straight to Leon, throwing himself into his arms.

Chelsea’s goal celebration began.

The Liverpool faithful booed with everything they had.

But it didn’t matter.

Leon tousled Salah’s curly hair, laughing as he offered praise.

Other Chelsea attackers joined in, patting Salah on the head and shoulders in congratulations.

It was a stunning strike—and with it, Chelsea now had full control of the match.

After the celebration, Leon clapped and rallied his teammates.

Not far away, Suárez stood with hands on hips, watching it all unfold.

In that moment, a message left by a fan on his social feed resurfaced in his mind:

”Luis, don’t let your loyalty be your downfall.”

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

Read 40 Chapters In Advance: /johanssen10

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