Chapter 413: Bayern on the Edge

"Kaká has been incredibly aggressive—his performance over both legs against Bayern Munich has even surpassed Suker's!"

Seedorf once again passed the ball to Kaká.

Although Suker remained a major threat, in this match Kaká had clearly been more impactful—or perhaps more relentless.

From several breakthroughs, it was evident: with Suker being tightly marked, it actually gave Kaká the opportunity to shine.

Of course, Suker wasn't just standing by passively.

This wasn't the first time he'd been marked so heavily—he had experience and had developed some countermeasures.

Suker frequently dropped deeper to help his teammates, pulling defenders away and opening up space in the final third.

Once the defenders were drawn out by his movement, he could momentarily find freedom.

That "freedom" didn't last long—Bayern's defenders immediately adjusted as soon as Suker made a move.

But for Suker, that brief window was all he needed to make something happen.

Seeing Kaká charging down the wing again, Suker slowed his pace, first dropping back diagonally, then cutting inward to act as a screen.

Sure enough, Kaká was blocked on the right flank by two defenders.

Staring at them, Kaká gritted his teeth—he wanted to go it alone.

"Pass it!"

Right then, Suker's voice called out.

Kaká turned and saw him at the edge of the box, unmarked.

"Close him down!"

Sagnol immediately shouted to his teammates to tighten the coverage on Suker.

But it was too late—Kaká had already played the pass.

Schweinsteiger charged in from behind, trying to intercept before Suker could control the ball.

But Suker calmly sidestepped, pulling the ball away from him.

Schweinsteiger stuck close, but Suker stopped short, pulled the ball across again, then looked up toward the box.

"Filippo!"

Suker shouted.

Inzaghi made his run instantly.

"You're not getting away!" Sagnol stuck to him like glue.

Then, to everyone's surprise, Suker pushed the ball forward, using an explosive burst of speed to surge past Schweinsteiger.

Schweinsteiger grabbed the edge of Suker's jersey, trying to slow him down and prevent the shot.

But even with his momentum interrupted, Suker leaned forward and, swinging his right leg, struck the ball fiercely.

Boom!

The ball shot toward the lower left corner of the goal.

Even without a proper run-up, his core strength powered the shot.

"Suker! Long shot!"

Serie A commentator Aldo Serena shouted.

The ball zipped low along the turf toward goal—just before crossing the line, a pair of large hands suddenly appeared.

Kahn dove desperately and parried the ball wide.

Kahn hadn't even gotten back to his feet when he started yelling at his teammates.

He knew better than to relax around a loose ball—not with Inzaghi around.

Sure enough, Inzaghi was already there.

That guy's positioning was still uncanny.

Fortunately, Sagnol had been tailing him and managed to stick a foot out at the last moment, deflecting the shot out for a corner.

"Nice job!"

Kahn exhaled in relief, patting Sagnol's head in praise, while shooting a sharp glare at Inzaghi.

That ghost of a striker haunted him even in the twilight of his career.

AC Milan corner.

"Get up there! Challenge for it!"

Suker called out to his teammates.

On Bayern's side, panic was setting in.

They were already down a goal, and Milan's offense kept coming in waves.

One more goal, and the match would truly be over.

That thought alone drained the last of their energy.

Six goals behind.

How were they ever going to come back?

Young players like Lahm and Schweinsteiger started to feel the weight in their legs, thinking it was all meaningless.

Veterans like Kahn still had a bit of fight left in them.

"Watch out—they're coming again!"

Seedorf stepped up for the corner.

Kaká made a near-post run, drawing Bayern defenders' attention.

Sagnol shifted slightly—then looked behind.

Sure enough, Suker was quietly moving toward the center.

"Watch Suker!"

Sagnol shouted.

Suker, realizing he'd been spotted, dropped all pretense and sprinted straight into the box.

Seedorf delivered the corner right on time.

Suker leapt up, eyes locked on the ball.

Sagnol jumped too.

Their bodies collided mid-air. Suker staggered slightly as his balance shifted forward—but he subtly pushed against Sagnol, both to stabilize himself and to knock the defender off-balance.

The cross was perfect.

Suker's forehead met the ball, and he whipped his head to the side.

From that distance, Kahn didn't even have time to react.

Whoosh!GOAL.

AC Milan: two goals up in the first half.

"Ohhh!! Suker! A headed goal!!"

"Sagnol failed to stop Suker, giving him a golden chance—Milan scores again! They now lead the tie by seven goals! Bayern Munich has officially been marked with the stamp of failure!"

As the ball hit the net, the entire Allianz Arena fell silent.

Even when they trailed by five at San Siro, Bayern fans held out hope.

But now, two goals down at home? That hope was extinguished.

The dreaded "Milan-phobia" had resurfaced—and now they were being crushed on their own turf.

The previously electric stadium fell into an icy hush.

Bayern fans stared blankly into space.

Two years in a row.They had been destroyed by Milan two years in a row!

Over the past decade, they'd only managed one small victory against them.

Even after AC Milan was hit with scandals and saw their strength decline, Bayern still couldn't resist Milan's attack.

No one knew where the problem was.No one knew how to fix it.

Every club has its downturns—but this was brutal.

"It's quiet now."

After the celebration, Kaká looked up at the now-silent stands and smiled.

That's what you get for booing me.

"Still think you can make a comeback down seven goals?" Suker rolled his eyes.

Football has no shortage of miracle games:

The Miracle of Istanbul,The Camp Nou Comeback,The Anfield Miracle—all of them etched in history.

But clearly, this version of Bayern Munich wasn't capable of that.

In the future, Allianz Arena would earn the nickname "The Stadium of Slaughter", as many clubs were thrashed here.

But not today.

Before inflicting massacres on others, Bayern had to suffer a few of their own—and this was two in a row.

"Let's prepare some subs for the second half," Ancelotti murmured.

Bayern had lost their spirit.

Facing a seven-goal deficit, they no longer had the will to fight.

Some players had already mentally accepted defeat.

For Milan, this was excellent news.

Their players could start saving energy.

After that second goal, Milan pulled back into defense—there was no need to keep attacking.

For the next 20 minutes, Bayern drifted aimlessly.

Kahn shouted from the back, trying to rally them—but it made little difference.

Most Bayern players just looked tired.

A match with no hope is the most exhausting.

They ran without purpose—when they did get the ball, they didn't know what to do with it.

One or two goals wouldn't change anything.

They were trailing by seven over two legs!

Against a solid Milan defense and in this current form, they knew: a miracle wasn't coming.

As much as they hated to admit it—they'd lost.

It was a fact.

The first half ended.

Bayern's players walked off the pitch, heads down.

Their faces heavy, their morale shattered.