Chapter 402: Rain Battle Rises in the Smoke of Battle, San Siro Stages an Old Friend's Duel

Three days before the Champions League group stage begins.

The entire Borussia Dortmund squad chartered a flight to Milan.

The plane glides smoothly above the clouds, the economy class relaxed as the young players excitedly discuss the upcoming big battle.

But in the business class ahead, the air carried a hint of heaviness.

Pepe gathered all the coaching staff members and several core members to make the final tactical confirmation at a small conference table.

“Formation 4132 counterattack.”

Pepe tapped the marker on the tactics board with a loud thud.

“Hummels commands the defense, Emre Jan is the lone defensive midfielder to protect the flanks.”

“Sancho attacks down the left, Qiao Bu, you link up in the center.”

His pen tip finally landed heavily on the right midfielder’s position.

He wrote the name Marco Royce.

Pepe lifted her head, her gaze fixed directly on the team captain.

“Royce, you have a very important mission.”

He paused, then spoke each word deliberately.

“This match requires you to support the full-backs to defend against Rafael Leão.”

Royce nodded calmly, but deep in those eyes, always tinged with melancholy, a trace of excitement ignited.

The final on-site adaptation training after arriving in Milan took place at the legendary San Siro Stadium.

The rain had already begun.

Pepe personally led Reus on the slippery turf, repeatedly practicing the tracking and positioning when facing Leo.

At the end of training, the players gradually left the field.

Cristiano Ronaldo stood alone in the middle circle of San Siro, looking around at the empty stands shrouded in rain.

Erling Haaland walked over to him, followed his gaze, and grinned.

“What are you sighing about?”

Cristiano Ronaldo withdrew his gaze and said calmly.

“I’ve scored seven goals on this pitch.”

This made Erling Haaland’s smile grow even wider, and he held up two fingers in a proud gesture.

“Then at least I have to catch up with you.”

But on the night before the match, Milan’s night was far from peaceful.

Downstairs at the hotel where Dortmund was staying, a large number of die-hard AC Milan fans had gathered.

The piercing sound of horns, sky-high fireworks, and signal flares that painted the night sky red in succession, continued until 3 a. m.

This is the traditional welcome ceremony at the San Siro away stadium.

Mukoko tossed and turned in bed, getting annoyed by the noise.

He got up and walked out of the room, only to find light still shining through the crack in Cristiano Ronaldo’s door at the end of the corridor.

As if possessed, he pushed open the door and saw Cristiano Ronaldo, wearing a pair of oversized noise-cancelling headphones, completely absorbed in his laptop.

The screen was showing footage of AC Milan’s previous match against Real Madrid.

On the desk lay a tactical notebook spread out, covered with dense notes in different colored handwriting.

Cristiano Ronaldo seemed to sense something, took off his headphones, and glanced at him.

“Can’t sleep.”

Mukoko nodded awkwardly.

“Come, sit down and watch together.”

Cristiano Ronaldo pointed to an empty seat nearby.

“Pay special attention to Modrić’s body orientation before receiving the ball, and his passing habits.”

Mukoko sat down in a daze, seemingly cut off from the noise outside the window at that moment.

He looked at Cristiano Ronaldo’s profile, intently focused, and the irritation in his heart gradually calmed down.

Time quickly arrived at the pre-match press conference, and unsurprisingly, the reporters aimed all their shots at Cristiano Ronaldo.

“Cristiano, how does it feel to return to Italy? It’s said that a large number of Juventus fans have come specifically to buy tickets to support you.”

Cristiano Ronaldo, on the other hand, remained calm and answered flawlessly.

“Serie A fans have always been passionate, and today’s clash at San Siro will surely become a classic.”

He then said no more and handed the topic to head coach Terzic.

But after the press conference ended, when stepping out of the media corridor, there was a fan area facing the north stand.

On one side, the CR7 is always the giant banner of the King of Turin, unfolding without warning.

Cristiano Ronaldo’s peripheral vision caught sight of that familiar line of Italian; he didn’t stop walking, but the corners of his mouth lifted.

On the evening of the matchday, the autumn rain over San Siro finally turned into a continuous curtain of rain.

The stadium lights illuminated the raindrops brightly, pouring down.

Inside the players’ tunnel, the damp, cold air was filled with the tension of the eve of the big battle.

Among Dortmund’s squad, Cristiano Ronaldo spotted that familiar figure.

AC Milan’s number 10, Luka Modrić.

At the moment the two lines crossed, their eyes met.

No unnecessary words, just a tight handshake and a hearty hug.

Before parting, Modrić leaned close to Cristiano Ronaldo’s ear and whispered.

“Keep it up.”

Cristiano Ronaldo replied.

“You should work hard too.”

The two released their grip and turned around separately, heading in different directions on the court.

Former comrades, tonight’s opponents.

Beep beep beep.

The referee whistled the final whistle to kick off.

The voices of San Siro fans erupted instantly.

AC Milan was the first to make a move.

Modrić’s first touch, without even adjusting his touch, delivered a precise 40-yard low pass to Jiménez making a precise run on the right.

Jiménez received the ball, cut inside, and took a long-range shot.

The ball splashed with water and was firmly held in Kerber’s arms.

Just two minutes later, Milan midfielder Fofana received a pass from the edge of the penalty area and swung his right foot for a powerful shot.

The ball whistled, grazing the top edge of the crossbar and flying out of bounds!

Dortmund’s defense sounded the alarm twice in a row.

Hummels roared loudly in the backcourt, spreading his arms wide to steady his teammates.

However, Milan’s ace, Rafael Leão, was almost invisible in the first seven minutes.

Every time he tried to receive the ball on the left, he found Reus sticking tightly within half a meter, his body forever blocking his cut inside.

The third time, just after Leao controlled the ball, Reus made a clean tackle to derail it.

The broadcast camera accurately captured Leão helplessly turning to head coach Amorim with open arms.

This was the first time this season that he had shown such a defeated expression during a game.

Because he usually smiles warmly.

The on-site commentator exclaimed in amazement.

“God, Reus’s defensive movement tonight was even more imaginative than his offense.”

In the tenth minute, the tide of play suddenly shifted.

Cristiano Ronaldo’s figure began to drop back, trying to divert pressure from the top of the half-circle.

Standing opposite him was AC Milan’s metronome, Luka Modrić.

The first time he matched up with Modrić, he made a light spike, flicked the outside instep, and tried to brush past Cristiano Ronaldo.

Cristiano Ronaldo, however, anticipated the ball with perfect accuracy, staying perfectly still, and dropped his right leg with a precise right leg, steadily pushing the ball out of bounds.

Modrić glanced at Cristiano Ronaldo, a hint of amusement in his eyes, as if he were saying.

“Old buddy, you’re still so flirtatious.”

The second time, Cristiano Ronaldo took the ball with his back to his back and was about to turn when he felt a subtle but tricky force coming from behind.

Modric flicked his toe and precisely poked the ball away from his feet, launching a counterattack.

No brutal hand-to-hand combat, no exaggerated moves; every attack and defense was completed in a flash.

It was a tacit understanding and contest that penetrated to the bone, a language only they understood.

San Siro fans gradually quieted down, followed by thunderous applause.

They clearly didn’t expect their aces to face off so quickly.

Today’s vote was worth it.

In the eighteenth minute, Cristiano Ronaldo dropped back to receive the ball, then suddenly changed his rhythm.

The man and ball were separated, which slowed Modrić’s chase by half a step.

But as soon as Cristiano Ronaldo received the ball at the top of the penalty area, he immediately drew a double team from three defenders.

He didn’t force a shot, but calmly tapped the ball to Qiao Bu, who had quietly made the move.

Job met the ball and fired a furious shot.

The ball was fiercely saved by Milan’s goalkeeper and sent out for a corner.

This left the fans at the venue in awe.