CHAPTER 157: THE ARMY OF TEN

The world held its breath. The jeers and whistles from the Milan fans were a physical pressure, a desperate attempt to shatter Lautaro Martínez’s concentration.

The Inter captain was an island of calm in a raging sea of noise. He took his final step back, his eyes never leaving the formidable figure of Mike Maignan in the AC Milan goal.

From his position at the edge of the box, Leon’s Vision flared to life, focusing on the French goalkeeper.

[Mike Maignan - Potential: 92, Current: 90, Status: Confident]

Symbols swirled above Maignan’s head: a shield, a pair of gloved hands, and a spring.

He was an athletic, elite shot-stopper. Leon tried to find a clue, a hint of where he might dive. But Maignan’s mind was a fortress; his intentions were unreadable.

This would come down to pure skill and nerve.

The referee’s whistle pierced the air.

Lautaro began his run-up, smooth and rhythmic. He didn’t look at the ball; he watched the keeper until the very last second. Maignan twitched to his right.

Lautaro saw it. In that same instant, he adjusted, striking the ball low and hard to the keeper’s left. Maignan dove, his body stretching to its absolute limit, but the shot was too precise, too well-placed.

The ball bulged the back of the net.

GOOOOAL! - 1-0

The Inter half of the stadium erupted in a cathartic roar. Lautaro turned, a defiant shout on his lips, and sprinted towards the Curva Nord, his teammates swarming him in a blue and black wave.

1-0 to Inter. They had their lead against their ten-man rivals just before halftime.

The second half began under a cloud of tension.

AC Milan, a goal down and a man down, should have been broken. But this was the Derby. Pride was on the line. Fueled by a sense of injustice and the thunderous encouragement of their fans, they came out with a ferocious intensity.

And leading the charge was Xavi Simons. The conductor’s baton above his head seemed to glow with renewed purpose. He was everywhere, demanding the ball, evading tackles, and trying to orchestrate an impossible comeback.

The game grew scrappy. Yellow cards were brandished for cynical fouls as Inter tried to break up Milan’s rhythm. In the 55th minute, Hakan Çalhanoğlu, playing against his former club, clattered into Simons 25 yards from goal.

The whistle blew. Free kick to Milan in a dangerous position.

As the Inter wall began to form, Milan’s powerful left-back, Theo Hernández, placed the ball with menacing deliberation. Leon’s Vision locked onto him.

[Theo Hernández - Potential: 90, Current: 88, Attribute: Shot Power 94]

A symbol of a cannon flashed ominously above the ball.

The probability of a goal was dangerously high.

Hernández took a long run-up. The stadium fell silent for a moment.

He sprinted forward and struck the ball with every ounce of power he possessed. It wasn’t a curling, elegant free-kick; it was a missile.

The ball flew like a tracer bullet over the wall and ripped into the top corner of the net before the Inter keeper could even react.

The San Siro exploded. 1-1. The ten men of Milan had equalized.

The goal shocked Inter out of their complacency. This was not going to be an easy ride. They poured forward, using their man advantage to stretch the tired Milan players.

In the 63rd minute, Leon found his moment. He dropped deep into the midfield, dragging Malick Thiaw with him. The space opened up.

Nicolò Barella, seeing the gap, made a lung-busting run from deep. A symbol of a charging bull appeared above his head.

Leon threaded a perfectly weighted pass into his path. Barella didn’t break his stride, hitting the ball first-time with a low, driven shot that skidded past Maignan and into the bottom corner.

2-1 to Inter! They had their lead back. This time, surely, the ten men would break.

But Milan refused to die. They were playing on pure adrenaline. Two minutes later, Mohammed Kudus received the ball on the right wing. Surrounded by two Inter defenders, he seemed trapped. But then he exploded.

With a shimmy and a burst of speed, he nutmegged the first defender. He cut inside, faced the second, and with a dazzling step-over, left him for dead.

He surged into the box and, from a tight angle, unleashed a furious shot that flew into the roof of the net.

It was a goal of breathtaking individual brilliance. 2-2. The stadium was in a state of delirious chaos.

The game had lost all tactical shape. It was now a street fight.

And in the 71st minute, Milan won a corner.

As the ball was whipped in, Leon’s Vision locked onto their big striker.

[Chris Wood - Potential: 86, Current: 80, Attribute: Heading 92]

The battering ram symbol glowed. Wood bulldozed his way through the crowd, out-muscling Stefan de Vrij, and met the ball with a thunderous header that flew into the back of the net.

Unbelievable. Impossible. The ten men of AC Milan were winning 3-2.

The Inter players looked at each other in stunned disbelief. Coach Chivu was screaming on the sidelines, urging his team to wake up. They had been humiliated.

They threw everything forward. In the 77th minute, a frantic scramble in the Milan box saw the ball bounce off a defender and fall kindly for Julián Álvarez, who had come on as a substitute.

The ever-alert striker reacted in a flash, poking the ball past the keeper from close range.

3-3! The match was an instant classic, a chaotic masterpiece of heart and desire.

Both teams were exhausted, running on fumes.

A draw seemed the inevitable, and perhaps fair, result. But Xavi Simons had one last trick up his sleeve.

In the 80th minute, he picked up the ball in the center circle. He was surrounded, but for a split second, he saw a run that no one else did.

Rafael Leão, Milan’s superstar winger, made a diagonal dart from left to right, a ghosting movement between Inter’s defenders.

The conductor’s baton above Simons’ head shone with its brightest light yet. He didn’t even seem to look up. He simply wrapped his foot around the ball, playing an impossible, curling pass that bent around the entire Inter defense and landed perfectly in Leão’s stride.

The pass was a work of art, a moment of pure genius.

Leão was one-on-one with the keeper.

He made no mistake, calmly slotting the ball into the far corner.

4-3. To the ten men of AC Milan.

The stadium was a scene of pure, unadulterated pandemonium.

The Milan bench cleared, every player and staff member sprinting down the touchline to celebrate with Leão. The Inter players stood frozen, hands on their heads, their faces etched with utter shock.

Leon stared at the scoreboard, the numbers seeming to mock him. 4-3.

Minute 80. Ten minutes to save themselves from the most humiliating Derby defeat in history.