74 We Mean Business!

As the teams returned for the second half, neither side made substitutions. Tiger King was seen rallying his players, urging them to stay sharp, while Brendan Rodgers passionately instructed his Liverpool squad, emphasizing the importance of scoring quickly to ease the pressure.

Liverpool came out aggressively, determined to attack from the restart. However, Vidic and Alderweireld stood firm for the first 10 minutes, repelling every wave of Liverpool's offense. Then, a brief lapse in communication saw Liverpool break through, forcing Vidic into a desperate challenge. The referee blew his whistle—foul! A yellow card for Vidic and a free kick in a dangerous area.

Gerrard stepped up. Anfield held its breath.

He struck it well, but De Gea, with lightning reflexes, pulled off a stunning save!

Recognizing Vidic's fatigue—especially given his recent return from injury—Tiger King made a change at the 60-minute mark. Vidic was replaced by van Dijk, while Giggs made way for Anthony Martial. Rooney dropped into an attacking midfield role, with van Persie up top and Martial playing as a shadow striker.

Rodgers responded, replacing Aspas with Raheem Sterling to maintain Liverpool's attacking intensity. Lucas attempted a through ball to Sturridge, only for Alderweireld to intercept with a perfectly timed lunge. Raheem Sterling, using his blistering pace, tried to break past Phil Jones, but the United defender matched him step for step, muscling him off the ball with sheer determination. Gerrard found a rare pocket of space and unleashed a long-range strike, only for De Gea to stretch and parry it away in spectacular fashion. Whenever Liverpool did find an opening, United's defense shut the door firmly, and De Gea was there to collect with ease. 

Despite their continued assaults, United's defensive wall—Phil Jones, Kante, Alderweireld, van Dijk, and Alonso—remained unbreakable. Henderson and Gerrard tried to dictate play from deep, but Kante was relentless, pressing him into rushed decisions.

At the 75th minute, seeing Alonso's exhaustion, Tiger King substituted him for Ashley Young, giving him license to push forward.

It paid off immediately.

Kante intercepted a Liverpool attack and quickly fed Rooney, who spotted Young sprinting down the left. With Mahrez drawing defenders, Young found himself in space. He surged forward and delivered a perfect cross—van Persie rose, met it with a powerful header, and the ball rocketed into the net.

GOAL! 3-0!

Van Persie sprinted towards the veteran United players on the sidelines, his face alight with passion. As he reached them, they formed a line, each player raising a hand to their chests, fingers pointing at the iconic club crest. The message was clear—this was Manchester United, this was their identity, their legacy.

Morris from Sky TV could barely contain his excitement. "Look at that! A statement, a declaration of dominance! Van Persie and the veterans are sending a message to the entire league—Manchester United is here, and they mean business!"

On the touchline, Tiger King stood still, a cold smile forming. He raised his left arm, this time with three fingers extended.

Morris gasped, "There it is again! Tiger King with his signature celebration—three fingers raised! And look at the Liverpool supporters—many of them are already heading for the exits, unable to bear witnessing this humiliation."

Even Brendan Rodgers, usually so composed, wore a look of resignation. He had lost the match, and soon he would face the consequences of his bold words. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair before turning to his coaching staff, muttering something under his breath.

As he reflected on the choices he made today—starting from the lineup selection—he realized that the words spoken at the press conference were meant to provoke him, to lure him into an attacking approach that played right into Manchester United's counter-attacking strategy. He had taken the bait, and now, he was paying the price.

Meanwhile, Roman, the Liverpool legend in the Sky TV studio, exhaled heavily before reluctantly conceding, "You have to admit, Manchester United have played some beautiful football today."

Scholes hugged Phelan, while Steele leaped in joy. The match was all but won.

As the final whistle blew, sealing a resounding 3-0 victory for Manchester United, Anfield was shrouded in a stunned silence, save for the distant roar of the jubilant away fans. The scoreboard gleamed in the floodlights—Liverpool 0, Manchester United 3.

A crushing defeat in their own fortress.

Brendan Rodgers, his face a mask of barely contained frustration, strode purposefully towards Tiger King, extending his hand in a show of sportsmanship. But Tiger King, standing tall and unmoved, barely acknowledged him. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto Rodgers for only a fleeting moment before he uttered two words—sharp, final, and laced with ruthless dominance.

"One Kill."

Rodgers froze. His outstretched hand lingered in the empty space between them, ignored and dismissed. His jaw clenched, and a dark flush crept up his neck as humiliation sank in. The Liverpool boss, who had spent the past week fueling the pre-match fire with bold claims and fighting words, had been silenced in the most brutal way—on the pitch.

Nearby, Phil Jones and Mahrez had just returned from their cooldowns, their curiosity piqued as they loitered within earshot. Jones, taking a sip from his water bottle, heard Tiger King's words—and immediately choked, sputtering water onto the grass in sheer disbelief. Mahrez's eyes widened, darting between Tiger and Rodgers, while Rafael, standing just behind them, whistled low under his breath.

Rodgers' face twisted in fury. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his breath coming in sharp bursts. He had been brushed off—no, humiliated—in front of his own fans, his own players, his own home. The sting of it burned deeper than the defeat itself.

Tiger King, meanwhile, was already walking away, his coat billowing slightly with each step as he made his way toward his players, where Scholes, Phelan, and Steele were waiting to embrace him in celebration. The Manchester United squad gathered, fists pumping, grins wide, savoring their triumph.

Anfield, once a fortress, now felt like a graveyard. Liverpool fans were already heading for the exits, their faces etched with disappointment, while Rodgers stood frozen on the touchline, watching as Tiger King disappeared into a sea of victorious red.

The war had been fought. And Tiger King had left no doubt—this was his battlefield.

Next Scene: The Press Conference

The press room was packed, cameras flashing relentlessly, reporters leaning forward with pens poised, eager to hear from the man of the moment—Tiger King. Manchester United's dominant 3-0 victory at Anfield had sent shockwaves through the football world, and everyone wanted to hear his thoughts.

Tiger King arrived with his usual composed aura, his sharp eyes scanning the room as he took his seat. He crossed his arms, exuding an air of total control, as if he had known the outcome of this battle before the first whistle had even blown. Next to him sat Brendan Rodgers, his face stiff, eyes fixed ahead, jaw clenched in frustration.

The first question was barely finished before Tiger King leaned into the mic, his voice calm but laced with quiet menace.

"The goal of killing Liverpool twice in the season has been half achieved. We won, and we succeeded in One Kill."

The words cut through the room like a blade. The reporters paused, glancing at each other, some stunned, some scribbling frantically. The phrase One Kill hung in the air, almost suffocating in its finality.

Rodgers' fists tightened under the table. His face darkened, his breath audible through his nose. His humiliation had been sealed on the pitch, but now, Tiger King was driving the dagger deeper.

A reporter dared to ask, "So, you're already looking ahead to the next match against Liverpool?"

Tiger King smirked, his eyes flashing with the thrill of battle. "The double kill is coming. One half is done. We'll see them again soon."

Rodgers shot up from his chair. The legs of the chair screeched against the floor as he stormed away without a word. The room fell silent as he pushed open the press room doors with unnecessary force and disappeared into the corridors, leaving the press stunned.

Some reporters gasped at the sheer tension between the two managers. Others exchanged knowing glances—Rodgers had been broken.

Tiger King, however, remained seated, completely unfazed. He leaned back in his chair, exuding the satisfaction of a conqueror who had burned his enemy's castle to the ground.

But there was something else he was looking for.

He turned his head slightly, eyes scanning the back of the room, searching for someone. Where was Wolfe?

The infamous Liverpool-supporting journalist, always so vocal, always pushing questions designed to rattle him, was nowhere to be found. Tiger's cold smile widened as realization set in.

"Looks like Wolfe has scurried off already," he remarked casually, adjusting his jacket before standing up.

The reporters laughed nervously, some glancing around as if hoping to catch a glimpse of Wolfe cowering in a corner. But he was gone—vanished the moment the match ended, unable to face Tiger King after the complete annihilation of his beloved Liverpool.

Tiger King turned to the remaining journalists and gave a final, measured nod before walking out.

Anfield was conquered. One Kill complete.

The war, however, was far from over.