With a thunderous strike, the ball rockets toward goal!
After cutting inside and nutmegging Bakayoko, Leo Lin swings his leg and unleashes a shot from the top of the penalty arc.
The strike is low and fast, arrowing toward the left side of the goal. Courtois dives at full stretch, but he is just a fraction too late.
The ball slips under his palm, brushing his glove as it buries itself in the net.
"GOAL!!!!"
"A Long-range shooting!"
"The human tank combined with a heavy artilleryman. This is the Lin who first broke into the senior team!"
"These were the moves that stunned everyone back then, and they are still his deadliest weapons today!"
"Don't overlook his original strengths just because he's improved his passing and explosiveness!"
"A human tank is still a human tank!"
"A heavy artilleryman is still a heavy artilleryman!"
Gerrard roars at the top of his lungs. Beside him, Pelé instinctively covers his ears, though a smile spreads across his face.
Carragher is so excited he starts hopping on the spot like a penguin. No one knows what he is doing.
Not even Carragher himself. He only feels the fire inside him about to burst into the sky.
Leo Lin himself did not expect the shot to go in. With the right side completely shut down, he had no choice but to try a left-footed effort from distance.
And yet, by sheer chance, that left-footed strike forced out by Chelsea's defense breaks through Courtois's guard.
When you try too hard, things may not work out. When you least expect it, everything falls into place.
Leo Lin sprints to the sideline and drops into a knee slide in celebration. Liverpool players rush over and pile on top of him as they celebrate wildly.
On the touchline, Conte's eyes are filled with despair.
"We analyzed his last fifteen matches. He has not taken a single shot with his left foot." The assistant coach beside him can hardly believe it.
"That is impossible. His dominant foot has always been his right."
That sudden left-footed strike leaves Conte frozen where he stands.
Chelsea's players look completely deflated. The fans shake their heads, already knowing they have become the final stepping stone for Liverpool's title.
Across the major broadcasts:
"It is over. It is all over. A brace, absolutely unstoppable. He was born to be a champion."
"What more is there to say. Liverpool fully deserve the Premier League title. This has been total domination."
"The club's first Premier League trophy is almost here. Closer and closer. You can feel it."
Liverpool fans barely dare to breathe. The title is within touching distance.
Leo Lin and his teammates celebrate, then quickly return to their own half, ready for play to resume.
The broadcast zooms in on the players. It feels as if flames are burning within each of them.
Burning with fighting spirit.
Burning with desire.
Burning with the will to win.
Play resumes. Chelsea have lost all belief, and Conte already knows his job is gone.
Time ticks away, but Liverpool remain firmly in control.
A suffocating presence, like a nightmare, presses down on Chelsea.
69th minute.
"Leo Lin carries the ball through the center. A feint shot, then a cut."
"He lays it off to the right. Mané receives and begins to build the attack."
It is a routine feint, but Jon Champion immediately picks up on Courtois's reaction.
"There is panic in front of Chelsea's goal. They are on edge."
"That single feint from Leo Lin was enough to make Courtois instinctively attempt a save."
"But Kanté and Azpilicueta were clearly in front of him, and the distance was still considerable. Courtois is rattled. Leo Lin has shaken his confidence."
80th minute.
"Liverpool make a change. Milner comes on for Wijnaldum. Emre Can replaces Mané."
"Klopp is reinforcing control. Liverpool have had 76 percent possession in the second half."
Leo Lin's emotions surge, but he forces himself to stay calm. The match is nearing its end.
Some Liverpool fans have already climbed over the stands, gathering outside the pitch, ready to storm the field at any moment.
With scenes like this, the referee would not dare add even a single minute of stoppage time.
93rd minute.
The moment the time is up, Clattenburg blows the whistle.
"Beep."
"Beep."
"Beep!!!"
Gerrard throws his arms into the air.
"It is over!"
"It is over. It is all over!"
"Premier League champions!"
"2017 to 2018 Premier League champions!"
"Liverpool!"
"Liverpool!"
The broadcast cuts to the city of Liverpool. Red is the color that defines everything.
Countless fans in red gather, forming rivers of color that wind through the streets. Red smoke fills the air, turning the entire city into something dreamlike.
The camera moves closer, pushing through the smoke into the streets. Fans in red jerseys wave Liverpool flags as if they are waving their lifelong faith and devotion.
Flag after flag rises, transforming Liverpool into a city of red.
And within that city, one place shines brightest.
A stadium filled with cheers, wrapped in red smoke.
Anfield has become an ocean of celebration.
Inside the stadium, the cameras capture the moment. Liverpool fans flood onto the pitch to celebrate this historic occasion.
Flags are raised high. Crests are waved. Red smoke fills the air.
They run freely across the pitch, filling every inch of Anfield.
Moonlight breaks through the clouds, shining through the red haze.
As it touches each Liverpool flag, it reflects a crimson glow, falling across the faces of the fans, then into the broadcast cameras, shining in the eyes of everyone watching.
Like stars, brilliant.
Like the sun, dazzling.
Like the universe, deep.
Like a spring breeze, gentle.
Jon Champion's voice rings out with passion:
"When flags fill Liverpool!"
"When light shines upon Anfield!"
"When the torch held high by Leo Lin sets the sky ablaze!"
"Gerrard!"
"Reina!"
"Glen Johnson!"
"Suarez!"
"Sturridge!"
"Martin Kelly!"
"A dream passed down through generations finally burns bright in this moment!"
"And blossoms into its most beautiful flame!"