Full moon scimitar

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Liam Carter took a few steps back, his sharp gaze locked on the ball. He adjusted his stance, ensuring he had the perfect run-up distance. Taking two deep breaths, he blocked out the noise of the stadium, letting his mind settle into the moment.

A sudden wave of boos rained down from the stands, rolling through Anfield like a storm.

Liam smirked. So, they finally noticed me.

It was a strange feeling, hearing thousands of Liverpool fans direct their jeers at him. The gap between the two teams was massive. Liverpool, one of the biggest clubs in the world, had dominated the first leg, making this match feel more like a formality than a contest. Anfield, known for its electric atmosphere, had been surprisingly subdued—until now.

The fact that they were booing meant only one thing.

They saw him as a threat.

That thought sent a surge of excitement through Liam's veins.

"If they remember me now, I'll make sure they never forget."

The referee blew his whistle.

A hush fell over the stadium.

Liam adjusted his position, shifting his weight slightly. He rotated his ankle twice to loosen it, then pressed his foot firmly against the ground. His muscles tensed, coiled like a spring.

And then—he moved.

"Liam Carter is stepping up... it looks like he's going for goal!"

"This is an ambitious attempt, but we've seen flashes of brilliance from him before!"

Liam sprinted toward the ball, arms pumping slightly to maintain balance. Just before striking, he slowed his steps, planting his standing foot with precision. His right leg swung back in a graceful arc—then snapped forward like a whip, driving into the ball with perfect technique.

The stadium held its breath.

The ball shot off his foot like a bullet, slicing through the air at an impossible speed. It curved violently around the defensive wall, carving out a long, elegant arc. The spin was sharp, calculated, lethal.

Liverpool's substitute goalkeeper, Brad Jones, had barely moved when the ball left Liam's boot.

At first, he read the flight path wrong, stepping toward the far post. But the ball—almost as if mocking him—suddenly swerved back toward the near post with ruthless precision.

Jones' eyes widened in horror.

This isn't possible.

Realizing his mistake too late, he tried to shift back, his body contorting awkwardly. His legs tangled beneath him. His knee buckled. He dropped to the ground, helpless—reduced to a spectator in his own net.

The ball crashed into the top corner with pinpoint accuracy, slamming against the netting with a satisfying thwack.

Anfield fell silent.

For a brief, breathtaking moment, the world seemed to pause.

Then—the eruption.

"Gooooooooooooal!!!!"

The commentator's voice cracked with excitement.

"Oh shit is that not the iconic full moon scimitar "

"That is absolutely incredible! What a strike from Liam Carter!"

"An unstoppable free kick! Perfect power, perfect curl—it had everything!"

"Brad Jones had no chance. He was left on his knees, watching the ball fly past!"

"This is the kind of goal that turns players into legends!"

The crowd roared—this time, not with boos, but with pure, stunned admiration.

Liam barely noticed.

Before the ball had even hit the net, he was already turning away, running forward. He took two powerful strides, then leapt into the air, pumping his fist toward the sky.

It was a celebration he had done since childhood.

Now, he was doing it at Anfield.

His teammates mobbed him, yelling in his ears, ruffling his hair. Their excitement was infectious, their voices hoarse from screaming.

"Liam! That was insane!"

"You're our Dundee United Beckham!"

For Liverpool, this goal meant little in terms of the overall match. They had already secured qualification for the next round. But for Dundee United, it was a statement.

A message to the world.

Even against one of the greatest teams in football history, they had someone special.

And his name was Liam Carter.

---

As the match neared its end, Liverpool slowed their attacks, content to play out the game. Dundee United pushed forward, hoping for another goal, but the quality gap was too large.

The final whistle blew.

Liverpool had advanced with an aggregate score of 4-1. The match ended in a 1-1 draw.

Anfield's home supporters cheered their team's qualification—but many were still talking about that goal.

In the away section, the small group of Dundee United fans felt bittersweet. Their team had been eliminated, but they left with pride.

Because tonight, Liam Carter had made history.

---

Post-Match Press Conference

Liam wasn't present, but that didn't stop him from being the center of attention.

Liverpool's manager, Roy Hodgson, kept it brief.

"It was a fantastic strike, no doubt. But we're through to the next round, and that's what matters."

But Dundee United's manager, Peter Houston, was ecstatic. This was the most attention his club had ever received, and he made the most of it.

"I didn't bring Liam on just to give him minutes. I brought him on because I knew he could make a difference."

"We scouted him at Crystal Palace long before his move. When I became manager, I pushed hard to sign him. Unfortunately, we could only secure a loan deal, but we included a buyout clause."

"At Palace, he played midfield. But I saw something else in him. His technical ability, his vision—he was born to play out wide. And tonight, he proved me right."

"This was Liam Carter's professional debut. And he scored that goal—against Liverpool. That's not something you forget."

---

As Liam walked through the tunnel, heading toward the dressing room, he could still hear the murmurs from the crowd.

His teammates clapped him on the back, grinning ear to ear. Some were still shaking their heads in disbelief.

Liam simply smiled.

He wasn't satisfied yet.

This was just the beginning.

Tonight, the world had seen a glimpse of what he could do.

But soon, they would see so much more.

Because Liam Carter wasn't just here to play football.

He was here to dominate it.

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