Chapter 396: Opener

Gary Neville let out a short laugh.

"That’s brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. He waited twelve minutes for that duel, and when it came, he didn’t even use his foot for the first touch."

Lukas burst down the right with the ball now under control, Dorgu chasing from behind and United’s back three beginning to slide across in alarm. Haaland immediately pointed toward the penalty area, Foden drifted between Shaw and De Ligt, and Bernardo Silva sprinted toward the edge of the box to offer the cutback. The miss in the opening seconds was gone from Lukas’ mind now. His head was up, his stride was lengthening, and for the first time in the derby, United’s defensive shape had been broken.

The attack was on.

Lukas kept driving down the right flank with Dorgu now trailing him and the whole of United’s back line retreating toward their own box. As he reached the area just outside the right edge of the penalty area, the danger finally dragged Luke Shaw out toward him. At the same time, Phil Foden burst into the channel Shaw had just vacated, pointing into the open space as he made the underlapping run. Behind the play, Bernardo Silva slowed his movement and held his position near the top of the D, ready for the cutback if Lukas chose the safer option.

"Brandt... still going... still going..." Drury’s voice began to tighten with anticipation as the Etihad leaned forward.

For a split second, it looked obvious what Lukas was going to do. He opened his body and shaped his right leg as if he was about to slide the pass straight into Foden’s path. Shaw read it too. The United defender threw his leg out, fully expecting to intercept the through ball before it could reach the runner.

"Shaw commits... he thinks he’s got it..." Drury was rising now.

But Lukas never released the pass. At the last instant, he dragged the ball back under himself, then chopped it sharply through Shaw’s wide-open legs, the ball skipping clean through the gap as Lukas burst around the outside and into the penalty area.

"Ohhh—he’s done him! He’s absolutely done him!" Drury roared as the crowd inside the Etihad rose with one voice.

Gary Neville could hardly get the words out quickly enough. "Oh, that is brilliant. That is absolutely brilliant from Lukas Brandt. Shaw buys the pass completely and he’s been done through the legs."

Now inside the box, Lukas still had work to do. Bruno Fernandes had tracked back desperately and arrived just in time to try to close the angle, sticking out a leg to stab the ball away.

"Fernandes across... he might just stop him here..." Drury’s voice climbed again.

Lukas met him with pure instinct. With the ball under him and his balance already beginning to tilt, he executed a La Croqueta, nudging it from his left foot across to his right, then instantly shifting it back again to his left as Bruno lunged past him.

"He’s away again... he’s STILL away!" Drury was almost shouting now.

For a moment, it looked like the contact and the lean from Bruno had finally knocked him too far off balance. Lukas was stumbling now, his body tipping sideways, but even as he fell, he still found the technique.

"Brandt is still going..." Drury’s voice cracked with rising disbelief.

Lukas struck through the ball with the inside of his left foot while going down.

"OH MY WORD—"

For the briefest heartbeat, the stadium seemed to hold its breath. Bayındır launched himself across goal, stretching with everything he had, but he was nowhere near it. The ball flew beyond him, crashed against the underside of the crossbar with a violent bang, then bounced down and into the net.

"GOOOOOOAAAAAAL! GOOOOOAL! IT’S IN! IT’S IN!" Drury erupted as the Etihad exploded.

"ABSOLUTELY SENSATIONAL! ABSOLUTELY BREATHTAKING! LUKAS BRANDT HAS HIS FIRST GOAL FOR MANCHESTER CITY, AND HE HAS DONE IT IN THE MANCHESTER DERBY! A SOLO MASTERPIECE!"

Lukas was already back on his feet and sprinting toward the corner flag, screaming as he ran. The supporters nearest the corner were reaching for him before he even got there, their arms stretched out, their faces wild with delight.

"Listen to this place! Listen to it!" Drury thundered over the noise.

A second later Haaland arrived at full speed, then Foden, then Doku and Bernardo, all crashing into him as the noise rolled down from every stand. Foden had both hands on his head, laughing in disbelief at what he had just seen, while Haaland grabbed Lukas by the shoulders and shook him as if to make sure the goal had really happened.

"The youngest goal scorer in Premier League history, and what a way to snatch that record. LUKAS BRANDT."

On the touchline, Pep Guardiola pumped both fists hard in the air, the celebration bursting out of him before he quickly gathered himself, turned, sat back down and took a sip of water as if he had not just watched a piece of individual brilliance tear open the derby.

When the first wave of celebration eased, Lukas turned toward the crowd again. With the noise still pouring down onto him, he placed his left hand across the front of his stomach, stretched out his right arm, and bowed toward the fans. The applause only grew louder. Thousands of City supporters rose to greet him, clapping and roaring his name as he straightened again, a faint smile on his face, having just introduced himself to the Etihad with a goal worthy of the occasion.

City 1 - 0 United

United tried to answer immediately.

There was no time for their players to stand around processing what had just happened, no time to argue among themselves, no time to stare at Lukas still jogging back from the corner with the Etihad roaring his name. Bruno Fernandes placed the ball on the centre spot with a hard expression on his face, said something sharp to Šeško and Mbeumo, then waited for Anthony Taylor’s whistle before restarting play.

The response was direct.

United moved the ball backward once, then Bruno received it in midfield and immediately lifted his head. City had pushed high again, still full of adrenaline from the opening goal, and Amad had already darted into the channel between Dias and Gvardiol. Bruno clipped the pass over the top with that familiar whip of his right foot, sending Amad racing after it as Dias turned and tried to recover.

Amad got there first.

He beat Dias for pace, carried the ball into the right side of the penalty area, and struck low across goal before the defender could get close enough to block him. For a split second the away end behind the goal rose, but Donnarumma reacted sharply, dropping his huge frame across the line and pushing the shot behind for a corner with a strong right hand.

"That is United’s warning," Gary Neville said, his voice carrying the edge of a former United player who knew how badly they needed a response. "They cannot allow City to run away with this. Amad has got the pace to trouble Dias if Bruno can keep finding that ball."

Bruno jogged across to take the corner himself.

United filled the box.

De Ligt moved toward the back post, Yoro and Šeško crowded the central zone, while Rodri, Dias and Gvardiol tried to organize City’s defensive line. The Etihad was still loud, but there was a nervousness beneath it now, the kind of sudden tightening that came when a team had scored and immediately found itself defending a set piece.

And Bruno, after raising both hands in the air, whipped the corner toward the far post.