Whoosh!The ball hit the back of the net!
In stoppage time, Drogba outmuscled Nesta and Kaladze to score.
The atmosphere in the entire San Siro instantly turned gloomy.
AC Milan fans fell completely silent.
After working so hard to equalize, Chelsea had so easily pulled ahead again.
Suker squatted in the center circle and shook his head helplessly.
But this was Chelsea. This was José Mourinho's team at its most intense.
A textbook example of his "one-goal victory doctrine."
Once they took the lead, everything shifted to defense. Only when they conceded again would they go back on the offensive.
Just like now.
Right after AC Milan scored, they were immediately met with Chelsea's fiercest counterattack storm.
"And with that, the match is over. AC Milan briefly equalized but still couldn't hold up against Chelsea's firepower, especially with Drogba leading the line. In the first leg of this Champions League clash, AC Milan loses 1–2 to Chelsea at home!"
Aldo Serena shook his head and said:
"For AC Milan right now, the most urgent task is to revive their back line. That Milan defense… sigh~~~"
That sigh carried a heavy weight of emotion.
As one of Italy's most iconic commentators, he had been in the game for 30 years—accompanying Serie A and many clubs through all their highs and lows.
He had witnessed Milan rise from revival to empire, and now… into decline.
Looking back, it stirred countless feelings.
From Milan's youngest-ever captain Franco Baresi, to watching a young Paolo Maldini step onto the San Siro turf and grow into a legendary captain.
In a blink, all those familiar faces had long retired.
That young Maldini was now a 40-year-old veteran.
Newcomers kept taking the stage—then faded away like the tide.
What remained constant was the fading red cross of the Crusader.
The glory of Milan was dimming, and no one could say what the future would hold.
For Milan fans, this helplessness was the hardest part to endure.
On the sideline, Mourinho raised his arms high in triumph—full of swagger, as if pre-announcing his conquest of San Siro.
Tonight's victory belonged to Chelsea.
In the locker room, Ancelotti was addressing the team.
"There's no need to dwell too much on the result. You all gave your best effort. Even if some things didn't go well, that's my responsibility as coach."
"This season has had many challenges, yet we've still achieved a strong record."
Everyone remained silent.
Ancelotti continued:
"There's still one more Champions League match. I just want you all to show enough fighting spirit. Winning or losing isn't the point—you just need to stay true to your effort."
"Take tomorrow off. Then we'll start preparing for the league."
With that, Ancelotti ended the meeting.
That evening, after Suker returned to his villa, Kaká came by right away.
"I watched the match," Kaká said as he walked in.
Suker nodded.
"It was hard to win. We really gave it everything."
Kaká nodded in agreement.
Suker always spoke in the most indifferent tone—but during the match, he was the one who fought the hardest.
For the full 90 minutes, Suker was the most relentless player on the field.
Maximum distance covered.
Maximum dribble and breakthrough success.
He had fought Chelsea's defense almost entirely on his own in the second half.
If Milan had any midfield support, things might've been better for him. But football isn't a one-man game. A superstar can shine for a moment—but he can't bridge such a huge team disparity alone.
"The boss gave us a speech today. Basically said we're shifting focus to the league, and the last Champions League match is just to give it a try," Suker said. Then he asked, "The media must be mocking us today, huh?"
Kaká shook his head.
"I thought so too. But actually, the media is praising us."
Suker was surprised.
"Really?"
The media changed their tone?
When Suker pulled up online newspapers—sure enough, article after article praised Milan's fighting spirit.
Even with a collapsed midfield and a likely rout, they had managed to equalize at one point.
Though they ultimately lost, their resilience was commendable.
Suker skimmed it and quickly lost interest.
He pulled up his system interface.
This match had cost him two attribute cards, but he had earned one back from his performance.
His agility stat had not declined further. He could stretch this attribute card for a bit longer.
The next day, the team had a break.
Suker woke early to enjoy life—doing morning training and walking his dog.
After breakfast, he worked out in the gym.
In the afternoon, he relaxed in the sun and practiced ball control on the lawn. The day passed quickly.
But in the evening, an unexpected guest arrived.
"Boss?"
Suker looked at Ancelotti in surprise.
Since joining Milan, Ancelotti had only visited his home once.
Unless it was a major issue, Ancelotti never interrupted his players' private lives.
"Not inviting me in?" Ancelotti asked, gesturing to the house.
Suker quickly stepped aside.
Ancelotti entered, and Suker made him a cup of coffee.
They sat across from each other on the sofa.
"Boss, what brings you here?" Suker asked.
Ancelotti sipped the coffee and nodded.
"There's something I wanted to discuss with you."
Suker gave him his full attention.
Ancelotti got straight to the point:
"Last night, Chelsea owner Abramovich reached out to me."
Suker paused.
Abramovich contacted Ancelotti?
Come to think of it, after Ancelotti left Milan, didn't he take over from Mourinho at Chelsea?
"We talked about a lot of things. One of them… was you."
"Me?" Suker pointed to himself.
Ancelotti nodded.
"You're the best player in our squad. Of course, your name came up."
"To be honest, I think you already feel it—Milan is declining. But you still have many honors left to chase. If you say you've never thought about leaving, you're lying."
Suker went quiet.
"I'm curious what you'll choose. But if you're open to it—why not come to Chelsea? We could work together again. In my lineup, you'd be the undisputed core."
Suker smiled. He immediately understood.
Old Ance was here as a recruiter—or at least trying to sound him out.
AC Milan was in chaos right now.
Suker wanted to leave—and he wanted to take Kaká with him.
Ancelotti also planned to leave—and wanted to take Suker with him!
"Boss, I've been lucky to work with you. We've won a lot together," Suker paused."But not everything has to be done together. I have my own plans, places I want to see, challenges I want to try. But that place isn't London."
Hearing this, Ancelotti understood.
In Suker's transfer plans—London and Chelsea were not part of the picture.
Sure, Chelsea might win two Champions League titles in the future.
But Abramovich's reputation in European football was a major obstacle.
Nobody in Europe liked Abramovich.
So even if Suker joined Chelsea, Abramovich would be a burden—not an asset.
Chelsea was a great club.
But it wasn't the right fit for Suker.
The moment Suker joined Chelsea, he could kiss the Ballon d'Or goodbye.
He wasn't arrogant enough to believe he alone could overturn Europe's bias against Chelsea and Abramovich.
In the end, Suker wanted more than just the Champions League.
He wanted the Ballon d'Or, and many individual honors—which Chelsea simply couldn't give him.
"I understand," Ancelotti nodded and stood up."I hope we can work together again someday."
Suker smiled:
"We'll have our chance."
Because if he joined Real Madrid, then that chance would absolutely come.
During Ancelotti's time as "Captain of Madrid," the club reached its peak—and it was the most glorious phase of his coaching career.
"Well, I should get going."
"Don't want to stay a little longer?" Suker asked.
Ancelotti shook his head.
"I've got other business."
As he spoke, Ancelotti got up and left.
Suker walked him to the door, but didn't close it. He stood for a moment, then walked outside.
Sure enough—he saw Ancelotti heading to Kaká's villa.
Since he got nothing from Suker—
Old Ance was now trying to recruit Kaká!