As the ball struck the back of the net, Jeremy Ling turned and shouted to his teammates.
"Guys, charge! Whoever arrives last to the pub tonight pays the bill!"
After dropping that challenge, he took off sprinting, leading the wild charge toward the traveling fans.
"That's cheating!" Riyad Mahrez, Scott McTominay, and Romelu Lukaku yelled as they sprinted right behind him.
On the green pitch, it was as if a cluster of red meteors had streaked across the Wembley grass.
Harry Maguire was as slow as a snail, trailing far at the back.
Panting heavily, the big defender wailed at the top of his lungs, "This isn't fair!!!"
Meanwhile, the Manchester City players in the center circle felt the fire in their chests extinguish.
One by one, they fell backward onto the cold turf in defeat.
They had lost to Manchester United once again.
To be honest, they couldn't help but feel a deep sense of despair, because this wasn't just a one-off—it was a full four times in recent history.
And each time, it was by the narrowest, most agonizing of margins.
They finally had a wealthy owner, an experienced head coach, and players ranked among the best in Europe.
But why couldn't they ever beat Manchester United when it mattered most?
Was this Manchester City's fate?
Kevin De Bruyne stared blankly at the sky above the pitch, the glaring stadium spotlights making him instinctively squint.
Then, he stood up from the turf and walked over, patting each of his devastated teammates on the shoulder.
The entire process was carried out in silence.
Because he had been introverted since childhood and didn't quite know how to verbally express his apologies or comfort, he resorted to this simple, physical method.
"Kevin, do you think we can win the Premier League title?" Sergio Aguero softly asked, staring at the grass before muttering to himself.
"Before, we lost to United by one goal in regular time. Today, we kept the score close until the bitter end and lost on penalties. Next time, we'll beat them."
"That's right! Next time, we'll defeat them!" David Silva chimed in, pulling Aguero to his feet.
Finally, the captain turned to the rest of the squad and said with a tired smile.
"This is my last season here. If only for my sake, you all have to push a little harder!"
The Manchester City players stood up and gathered together in a tight huddle.
Seeing this resilience from the sidelines, Pep Guardiola's anger faded.
When he had chosen to come and coach Manchester City, his most important goal was to build a truly dominant dynasty, one not inferior to his legendary Barcelona side.
This was his ideal, and it required facing adversity.
"Boss, don't get too sentimental on us! The League Cup isn't strictly necessary—if we're going to win something this year, let's aim for the big ones!" Mikel Arteta cracked a joke, trying to lighten the gloomy atmosphere in the technical area.
"Let's go congratulate our opponents. They deserve this championship," Guardiola quickly regained his composure.
He walked slowly up to Jose Mourinho, extending his hand, and spoke in a flat tone.
"Well played. Congratulations."
Although Guardiola wanted to let go of their past grudges, it was truly difficult to do so.
The main reason was Mourinho's incredibly sharp tongue in their younger days, whether justified or not, the Portuguese manager could go on and on.
Back in Spain, Guardiola had nearly been driven to illness by the mental warfare.
So, he decided to keep their relationship strictly professional.
After all, they were used to being bitter opponents.
"Thank you, Pep," Mourinho raised an eyebrow slightly, taking the handshake.
For once, he wasn't in the mood for his usual sharp remarks.
On the other side of the pitch, David De Gea was surrounded by celebrating Manchester United players, but he actively sought out Jeremy Ling.
The Spanish keeper took off his gloves and handed them over.
"Ling, your words in the huddle were brilliant! I just gave it a try and trusted my gut, and who knew it would actually work!"
"These gloves are yours now!" De Gea beamed.
"Oh, a cup-winning, match-worn version! I'll have to cherish these," Ling laughed, casually taking the gloves and raising them high.
"I officially declare, Harry's treating tonight!"
"Awesome!"
The Manchester United players all joined in the commotion, cheering loudly.
Only Maguire pursed his lips, looking as if someone owed him a massive debt.
...
Soon, the Manchester United fans in the stands stood shoulder to shoulder, lighting the prepared red flares and unfurling dozens of meters of banners.
The stadium DJ was also very considerate, playing "Glory Glory Man United" over the loudspeakers.
Ling lifted his head high. In his field of vision, the fluttering red flags intertwined, forming a vast red sea that dyed the London night sky crimson.
As the stirring melody played, Ling put his arms around his teammates' shoulders and sang the familiar song at the top of his lungs.
"We'll keep the Red Flags flying high!"
"You've got to see yourself from far and wide!"
"You've got to hear the masses sing with pride!"
"United! Man United!"
Manchester United fans around the world also joined in the celebration online.
Under the reports of major sports media outlets, comments refreshed at a rapid pace.
@StatmanDave: To be honest, that League Cup final between City and United is probably the most exciting one in recent years. Both teams gave everything.
@UtdFaithful: The paper strength of both teams is incredible; it felt as intense as a Champions League Semi-final!
@RedDevilsDaily: Although Ling only had one goal and one assist today—not quite the performance from last season's UCL final—I feel he has truly matured. He dictated the game.
@TacticsNerd: You can't expect a hat-trick every game. Besides, Ling was placed on the left wing to pin Kyle Walker back, which is a tactical sacrifice for the team.
@PremStats: Ling played brilliantly today. He was up against Walker, currently the strongest right-back in the league, and not only did Ling dominate the matchup, but he also created chances.
@GlobalUtd: By the way, with the UEFA Super Cup, FIFA Club World Cup, and League Cup titles, does that already count as a treble this season?
@FootballHistorian: Yes, but the minor treble. Barca's famous sextuple consisted of the league, domestic cup, UCL, domestic super cup, UEFA super cup, and Club World Cup. United still need the Premier League and UCL for the real deal!
While fans across the internet were passionately discussing the victory, Ling and his teammates returned to the locker room and changed into clean championship t-shirts.
Mourinho walked in, beaming with joy. "Although we've won the Carabao Cup, the Premier League Round 28 match is in two days, and we'll be facing Burnley away. They just beat Tottenham in the last round, and while there was a lot of luck involved in that result, we still can't let our guard down."
"So—" Mourinho's smile faded into a stern look, "there's no day off tomorrow. Everyone must be at the training ground at ten sharp. No exceptions."
The jubilant atmosphere in the locker room took a sharp turn for the worse.
"Then we'll be exhausted to death," Maguire complained with a grin on his face, though inwardly he was overjoyed by the trophy.
"Boss, we won't stay out too late tonight. I'll keep a close eye on them," Ling hesitated for a moment but still spoke up for the squad.
In ancient times, after winning a grueling battle, soldiers were always given some rewards.
Besides, this match hadn't been easy—they had fought tooth and nail for 120 minutes to secure the victory.
As the saying goes, only with a balance of work and rest can one last long. Moreover, football players tend to have abundant energy.
If they can't release it after a cup win, it's easy for them to become restless.
"Hmm," Mourinho looked at the expectant, pleading eyes of his players and finally softened.
"Alright. Tomorrow's recovery training will be moved to 2 PM. But remember, don't show up drunk or hungover, or you'll face the consequences!"
"Yes! Boss is the best!"
"We love you, Jose!"
The locker room became lively again, with many players glancing at Ling, realizing he really had the manager's ear.
If anyone else had made such a bold request to the boss, they would have been shouted down.
Of course, Mourinho's temperament had changed significantly compared to his earlier years, otherwise, he never would have agreed.
Half an hour later, the Wembley staff had set up the podium on the pitch.
Though it couldn't quite compare to the grand stages built for the Champions League or the Premier League, it still held great significance for many in the team.
For example, for Ling, this was his first-ever League Cup win.
"It's so small, not even as big as Harry's head..." he joked, inspecting the three-handled trophy.
Then there were young players like Aaron Wan-Bissaka and Maguire—this was their first major trophy as key, starting players!
"Ling, let me see!" Mahrez laughed, taking the trophy and holding it right next to Maguire's massive head, feigning surprise.
"Wow, it really is smaller!"
Laughter on the podium never ceased.
Finally, boom! Boom! Boom!
Countless fireworks shot into the London sky, and amidst a shower of red and white confetti, Ling stood in the middle of the lineup, raising the championship trophy high!
The deafening cheers of the Manchester United fans in the stadium easily drowned out the sound of the fireworks!
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