My Ultimate Gacha System

Play resumed once Palace’s goalkeeper limped down the tunnel, and United began working the ball down Garnacho’s side with more purpose than they’d shown in the first ten minutes.

Garnacho drove inside off his fullback and forced a scrambled corner that Palace cleared under pressure.

Two minutes later, Mount received on the half-turn just outside the box and slipped a pass wide for an overlapping run that never quite arrived in time.

Dalot got forward on the next attack and won the ball back into the corner, cut it into the six-yard box, but a Palace defender read the cutback and hacked it clear before Martial could get a touch.

The goal United had been building toward finally arrived in the twenty-first minute.

The move began with Casemiro switching play from left to right in one motion, Palace’s shape shifting a half-second too late to compress the space, and United worked the ball back into the same wide channel that had produced two warnings already.

Garnacho received it high and wide, held the position long enough to watch the Palace right-back turn his head to check the runner behind him, and used exactly that half-second of hesitation to attack the inside channel toward the back post.

The pass came across low and hard, skidding through the six-yard box, and Garnacho arrived ahead of his marker to finish first time into the roof of the net.

Manchester United 1 — 0 Crystal Palace Alejandro Garnacho 21’

Garnacho sprinted for the corner flag with his arms already spread, the relief on his face as visible as the pride, a player reminding a stadium that watched him mostly for one wing that he could hurt teams from either side of the pitch.

His teammates piled into him near the flag, Mount first, then Martial, the whole front line collapsing into one shouting knot of red shirts while Old Trafford rose from its seats in a single roar that rattled down through the stands.

On the bench, Demien stood and clapped with real feeling behind it, no performance required this time, and his right foot tapped once against the concrete step before he stilled it deliberately, choosing not to let the celebration turn into anything the camera might read as more than it was.

"Beautifully worked goal," the commentator said over replays of the finish, "and that’s the value of squad depth for you — United didn’t need Walter’s goals tonight, they found a different way to break Palace down. Garnacho showing real maturity in that finish, calm under pressure with the near-post run."

"Palace will feel that one stings," the co-commentator agreed. "They matched United for the first twenty minutes and got punished the moment their concentration slipped."

Palace answered with pride rather than panic, refusing to let the goal collapse their shape.

They pushed for the space behind United’s right-back on the next two possessions, won a throw-in high up the pitch, and forced United to defend a cross that Casemiro headed clear under pressure, only for Palace to collect the loose ball and recycle possession rather than surrender territory.

Watching from the bench, Demien felt the pull of the match’s pace tug at him even with United ahead.

When a passing lane opened between Palace’s midfield and their back four on the next attack, his hand lifted slightly off his knee, an old, automatic instinct toward a ball that wasn’t his to chase, and he lowered it again before the movement had time to mean anything to anyone watching.

United’s second goal took shape around the twenty-seventh minute from a corner won after another Garnacho drive forced Palace back into their own box.

Before the delivery, Casemiro checked the goalkeeper’s positioning with a glance, pointed a teammate out of his intended run to clear the lane, and took two unhurried steps backward to set up his own approach.

The corner came in flat and fast toward the near-post crowd, drawing Palace’s defenders’ attention exactly where the delivery wanted them, and Casemiro arrived from deeper than anyone had tracked, meeting the ball before his marker could set his feet and driving a header down and through the goalkeeper’s replacement gloves.

Manchester United 2 — 0 Crystal Palace Casemiro 27’

Where Garnacho’s celebration had spilled over with youthful relief, Casemiro’s stayed controlled, almost businesslike — he pointed back toward the corner taker in recognition of the delivery, then let his teammates crowd around him without adding much of his own noise to it.

On the bench, Demien’s smile this time came without any effort behind it, because the goal read as pure Casemiro: nothing fortunate about it, nothing flashy, just timing and power applied exactly where they were needed.

"That’s what you pay for," the commentator said, letting the replay run twice. "Nine times out of ten that ball gets defended, but Casemiro’s movement and the delivery combine perfectly. Two-nil, and you have to say United’s senior players have made the difference in this rotated side tonight — still no Demien Walter needed off that bench."

Palace tried to slow the match down after going two behind, and the fouls started coming in with more intent than accident.

A Palace midfielder caught Mount late on a follow-through that drew a wince from the bench and a stern word from the referee rather than a card, and moments later a long ball forced Maguire to head clear under real pressure with a Palace forward arriving a half-step behind him.

The referee let the game breathe rather than stopping it every few seconds, but the edge in Palace’s challenges had sharpened, the frustration of a two-goal deficit beginning to show in their tackling.

United came close to a third before the half ended.

Martial dropped off his marker to link play, found Mount arriving on the half-turn, and Mount slid Garnacho through on goal down the inside-left channel, only for the Palace goalkeeper’s replacement to get down well and smother the shot at his near post.

Garnacho slapped the turf in frustration, wanting the second goal of his own night, and on the bench Demien clapped once in response before pointing subtly toward the far-post run that had gone unused in the same move, a note only the players close enough to see him would understand.

Palace nearly made United pay for chasing that third goal.

United lost the ball cheaply in midfield on the turnover, and Palace’s winger carried it from just past the halfway line, cutting inside past one lunging challenge before forcing a desperate recovery tackle that put the ball out for a corner rather than a clear sight of goal.

Ten Hag stepped sharply toward the edge of his technical area at the sight of it, arms folding across his chest, visibly unhappy that his side had handed Palace a counter-attack from nothing more than careless possession.

The closing minutes of the half settled into United managing the lead rather than chasing a third.

Casemiro slowed the tempo whenever United won the ball back, content to let the clock work in United’s favor.

Mount kept offering himself as an outlet between the lines. Garnacho continued to stretch the width of the pitch even without service reaching him.

Palace kept chasing shadows, but the conviction behind it had thinned since the twenty-seventh minute.

On the bench, Demien had stopped standing for every passage of play, settling instead with his arms resting across his knees, letting the crowd noise wash over him while his eyes tracked the ball from one end of the pitch to the other.

"Job done, more or less, for the first forty-five," the commentator said as the fourth official’s board went up. "United’s changed side has done exactly what was asked of it — Garnacho and Casemiro have taken their chances, Palace haven’t gone away, and Demien Walter’s presence on that bench is still the story everyone’s waiting on for the second half."

The referee blew for halftime with the ball still in Palace’s half.

Manchester United 2 — 0 Crystal Palace Garnacho 21’ — Casemiro 27’

The starters walked toward the tunnel to warm applause from three sides of the ground, Garnacho still catching pats on the back from teammates who hadn’t finished congratulating him, while Casemiro moved at his own unhurried pace, already deep in conversation with Mount about a positioning detail from the half that had just ended.

Palace’s players filed off more quietly, frustrated rather than beaten, aware the scoreline had slipped further than the match itself had.

Demien rose with the rest of the substitutes and followed last, still zipped into his warm-up top, his studs clicking against the concrete tunnel approach behind the rest of the group.

As he passed the technical area, Ten Hag didn’t stop him or call him over, but one of the assistant coaches turned aside with a tablet still lit in his hand and murmured something to another staff member about Palace needing to open themselves up after the break if they wanted anything from the match.

Demien caught enough of it walking past to understand exactly what it meant.

He glanced back toward the pitch once more before the tunnel swallowed the sound of the crowd behind him.

The first half had belonged to the starters.

The second half was already beginning to open.