Reincarnated As A Wonderkid

The walk to the dressing room was the longest of the players' lives.

They didn't look at each other. They just stared at the ground, the roar of the jubilant away fans a cruel, mocking soundtrack to their shame.

The dressing room was a morgue.

Byon's shadow had completely eclipsed him. He felt powerless, invisible, a ghost at his own funeral.

Arne Slot walked into the center of the room.

He didn't look angry. He looked... furious. But it was a cold, controlled, and deeply intelligent fury.

He didn't yell. He didn't scream. He just spoke, his voice a blade of ice that cut through the silence.

"They have been brilliant," he began, the words a shocking, unexpected admission.

"Guardiola has been brilliant. He has identified our brain," he said, nodding towards a devastated-looking Leon, "and he has surgically removed it from the game. It is a tactical masterpiece."

He let the harsh truth hang in the air.

"And right now," he continued, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl, "they think they have won. They are in their dressing room, laughing, talking about how easy this is. They think we are broken. They think the game is over." He looked around the room, his eyes burning with a fire that seemed to suck all the air out of the room.

"Are they right?"

A profound, absolute silence was his answer.

"Good," he said, a slow, predatory smile spreading across his face. "Because a masterpiece can only be beaten by a work of art. And in the second half, we are going to become artists of pure, unadulterated chaos."

He strode to the tactics board, a new, wild energy about him.

"The 'Shadow' tactic is brilliant, but it has one fatal flaw. It is completely dependent on its target." He looked at Leon. "So, in the second half, you are no longer our brain. You are no longer our playmaker."

He paused, a dramatic, almost insane glint in his eye.

"You are the bait."

The new plan was a work of beautiful, reckless madness.

Leon was no longer the man they would play through. He was the man they would play away from.

His job was to drag his shadow, Byon, all over the pitch, creating a permanent, one-man vacuum in the heart of City's midfield. They would cede the center of the park and create overloads on the wings. It was a suicidal, all-or-nothing gamble. It was perfect.

As a final act, Slot made a substitute, taking off a defensive midfielder and bringing on the young, explosive winger, Nathan Ngumoha. It was a declaration of war.

"GO AND BE A NIGHTMARE, NATE!" Slot roared as the young Belgian ran on.

The second half began, and Anfield, which had been a library of sadness, found its voice again, a roar of desperate, defiant hope. And they witnessed a transformation.

Liverpool, true to their new plan, completely ignored Leon.

The ball was worked wide, to Salah on the right, to Ngumoha on the left. Byon, his face a mask of confused determination, stuck to Leon like glue, a sky-blue ghost in the middle of a red storm he was no longer a part of.

In the 52nd minute, the plan worked to perfection. The ball was switched quickly to Salah on the right. He had a one-on-one with his fullback.

He shimmied, he feinted, and he was gone, a blur of red lightning. He looked up, and with Byon completely out of the picture, the City defense was stretched, chaotic.

Salah fired a low, hard cross into the box.

Alexander Isak met it with a powerful, first-time shot. It was saved, but the rebound fell to Andy Robertson, who smashed it home from close range.

3-1. A glimmer of hope. Anfield roared back to life.

"THEY'VE GOT ONE BACK!" the commentator, Barry, screamed. "A goal born from a strange, new tactic! They're completely ignoring their superstar, Leon, and it's working! This is bizarre! This is brilliant! This is Arne Slotball!"

The goal sent a jolt of panic through the previously unflappable City machine.

The game became a frantic, end-to-end battle. In the 61st minute, the intensity claimed a victim.

Kevin De Bruyne, the Belgian genius, went into a 50/50 challenge with a typically ferocious but fair tackle from Dominik Szoboszlai.

De Bruyne went down awkwardly, his ankle twisting.

It was a clear injury. The game stopped. The medics rushed on. After a tense, painful moment, the signal was made. His game was over.

As the heart of their creative engine was helped off the pitch, a new sense of belief, a dangerous, predatory belief, surged through the Liverpool players.

In the 68th minute, with City's rhythm broken, they struck again.

A long ball from Virgil van Dijk found the explosive Nathan Ngumoha on the left wing.

The young Belgian, playing with a fearless, youthful abandon, drove at his man, beat him with a blistering turn of pace, and fired a low shot that was parried by the keeper.

The ball looped up into the air, and there, arriving like a freight train, was Florian Wirtz, who powered a magnificent header into the back of the net.

3-2. The comeback was on. Anfield was a volcano of noise.

But the most beautiful moment was yet to come. In the 70th minute, with City on the ropes, their confidence shattered, Leon finally got his moment.

A loose ball fell to him.

Byon, his shadow, was on him in an instant.

But Leon was no longer the target. He was the bait who had just been given the ball.

He dragged it back, a beautiful, instinctive piece of skill that sent Byon stumbling. He looked up, saw the space, and played a simple, perfect pass to Mo Salah.

Salah played a one-two with Wirtz.

The German genius, now full of confidence, slid a perfect through-ball into the path of Alexander Isak.

The big Swede was one-on-one. He feinted to shoot, sending Ederson to the ground, and then, with the composure of a master, he dribbled past the keeper and rolled the ball into the empty net.

3-3.

Pandemonium. Utter, complete, beautiful pandemonium. From 3-0 down, they were level.

But as the players celebrated, a strange, urgent, and deeply satisfying notification flashed in Leon's Vision, a system alert he had never seen before.

[RIVAL ANALYSIS: Pep Guardiola's 'The Shadow' tactic has been successfully countered and broken.]

[SYSTEM ALERT: Opponent manager is experiencing a critical 'Tactical Frustration' debuff. Probability of making an irrational, emotional decision has increased by 75%.]