Chapter 161 A Thorough Mess

　　The camera suddenly focuses on the stands.

　　Messi's second son, Mateo, is excitedly raising his arms!

　　The surrounding spectators look bewildered.

　　The media reporters immediately begin drafting their stories.

　　《Messi's Son is a Chelsea Fan.》

　　《Messi's Son Has Loved Diego Costa Since Childhood.》

　　《Messi's Son is a Barcelona Hater.》

　　The real reason: Mateo likes to go against his older brother and family. No matter who the opponent is, as long as they score against Barcelona, he will cheer, whether it's Real Sociedad or Real Betis.

　　Chelsea players gather on the sidelines, hugging in celebration.

　　Tuchel waves his hand, and Dino eagerly drags out a large tactical board.

　　"Barcelona's midfield has serious defensive coverage problems."

　　"Through this period of the game, the coaching team has come to the following conclusions."

　　"After losing possession, their formation settles into a 4-4-2! Barcelona will sustain high-pressure counter-pressing for a certain period. In their transition to attack, they bypass the midfield organization phase."

　　"Messi can't sprint indefinitely for ninety minutes. Barcelona relies too heavily on their two full-backs pushing forward to maintain width in the autonomous attacking phase."

　　"Pay attention to André Gomes' forward runs on the right."

　　"Again, the best way to defend set pieces is to reduce fouls in your own half!"

　　Clap clap clap!

　　Concise and to the point.

　　Having laid out several preconditions, the solution has already been demonstrated countless times in training.

　　The referee urges the players back onto the field.

　　A huge chorus of boos erupts.

　　Diego Costa turns around, faces the stands, opens his arms, and smiles as he "embraces" the "greetings" from the Catalan fans.

　　Then, with his arm around Lee Kang's shoulders, he turns towards the Chelsea fans' stand and forcefully pinches the team emblem on the latter's chest.

　　In an instant.

　　The cheers from the Chelsea fans overwhelm the boos.

　　Tuchel, with his chin in his hand, suddenly asks:

　　"Our two wingers aren't creating asymmetrical local advantages."

　　Dino's mouth twitches, and he explains, "Boss, before the game, you said Barcelona would switch to a 3-4-1-2 formation to match up on both flanks, requiring our left and right wings to advance and retreat simultaneously, maintaining both attacking and defensive width. Our diamond hexagonal training ground for zonal defense these past few days, wasn't that designed to address this issue?"

　　The Chelsea coach's face turns red. "Ahem, I overestimated Barcelona's wing play."

　　"Next, let Azpilicueta push forward boldly on his side, shortening the distance between himself and Lee to maintain support!"

　　"No, wait, let Marcos push forward on his side, helping Lee create more misplaced bombing points!"

　　"Still no good, Marcos' speed and ability to get rid of defenders are too weak…"

　　Dino: "…"

　　On the other side.

　　Valverde is a little troubled.

　　His on-the-spot command and adjustment speed is relatively slow.

　　Most coaches who excel at taking the initiative possess this weakness.

　　The mineral water bottle in his hand is crushed.

　　The Barcelona coach is feeling a headache.

　　'Chelsea's deployment is really difficult to figure out.'

　　The game restarts at the center circle.

　　Suarez passes the ball back to Busquets from the kickoff.

　　Chelsea's attacking midfielders quickly start pressing.

　　Everyone is running like crazy, as if they've been injected with stimulants.

　　Especially Diego Costa, whose trash talk makes Umtiti, the little black kid, blush with anger.

　　"There's no way around it, Barcelona no longer possesses the passing control stability of yesteryear."

　　"They still have to start organizing their attack from the back…"

　　"This style of play isn't Barcelona at all."

　　"The Camp Nou has lost its soul."

　　"The Blaugrana have lost their style."

　　"If they hadn't sold Lee Kang to Leverkusen for a million with installment payments, they wouldn't have fallen to this point."

　　"Oh no! Paulinho's pass is misplaced! This tough guy from the Chinese Super League can't maintain short passing accuracy under pressure!"

　　"The ubiquitous Kanté!"

　　"He's like a super midfielder from a football animation who can teleport at any time. 70% of the Earth is covered by water, and the remaining 30% is…"

　　Kanté intercepts the ball.

　　With Bakayoko dropping deep to cover the defense, the blue giant and Lee Kang can fearlessly expand their defensive range in the attacking third!

　　Snap!

　　He immediately passes the ball diagonally to Lee Kang on the left.

　　At the same time.

　　Chelsea's attackers sprint, like a bulldozer, crashing into Barcelona's half.

　　Lee Kang receives the ball sideways.

　　Adjusting his body, he easily brushes off Gomes, who tries to win the ball back.

　　Then, he starts dribbling.

　　Advancing from the left inside channel.

　　The shadow energy in his brain has already been exhausted in the match against Manchester City, but it's not needed against the weak Barcelona defense.

　　The night wind blows his shirt.

　　Accelerate again!

　　"Terrifying impact!"

　　"Lee Kang is directly driving the team's frontal attack!"

　　"Barcelona isn't panicking."

　　"The thirty-meter zone is where both sides' support points overlap and fight!"

　　Diego Costa and Hazard make intersecting runs, cutting into Barcelona's last line of defense.

　　Azpilicueta and Marcos sprint down the flanks, stretching the attack to the extreme.

　　Kanté shortens the distance between himself and Lee Kang, ready to provide support at any time.

　　David Luiz adjusts his hair and accelerates in a straight line!

　　Busquets' brain is racing.

　　He raises his hand, signaling his teammates not to double-team, but to cut off Chelsea's vertical passing lanes.

　　Then, he adjusts his position with small steps.

　　Standing in front of Lee Kang.

　　Come on.

　　La Masia's number 4!

　　The next moment, the Camp Nou is filled with gasps of astonishment!

　　"Emergency stop and flick!"

　　"Lee Kang gets rid of Busquets!"

　　"Chooses to go outside!"

　　Busquets is stunned for a second, feeling a surge of emotion: it feels like Lee Kang is even more familiar with his defensive positioning than he is.

　　From a God's-eye view, the gaps in Barcelona's defense are incredibly loose.

　　Lee Kang chooses to dribble forward again.

　　The Eye of Truth erupts.

　　"Roberto and Piqué are closing in!"

　　"Still not passing!"

　　"A light flick with his left foot, Lee Kang squeezes through the gap!"

　　"Going inside!"

　　"Four more steps, and he encounters Iniesta, who's tracking back!"

　　"Dribbling horizontally!"

　　"Another small step forward! A passing lane opens up!"

　　"Incredible!"

　　"La Masia reject, inspecting the Camp Nou defense!"

　　Loud applause erupts from the dark blue stands.

　　Tuchel is dumbfounded.

　　Valverde looks despondent.

　　Snap!

　　The ball leaves Lee Kang's left foot, spinning violently, and falls towards the Barcelona penalty area!

　　In the Barcelona penalty area, a fierce face leaps up.

　　"Diego Costa!"

　　"Outjumps Umtiti and Alba!"

　　Snap!

　　The ball's trajectory changes! It goes straight into the upper right corner!

　　Ter Stegen leaps, making a flying save!

　　No use.

　　0:2!!!

　　The whole stadium erupts.

　　After landing, Diego Costa instinctively wants to step on Umtiti's instep.

　　But he stops himself.

　　No need.

　　The Chelsea dirty striker always displays impeccable sportsmanship when playing against weaker teams.

　　He turns and sprints towards Lee Kang!

　　"Another goal!"

　　"It's Diego Costa again!"

　　"It's Lee Kang again!"

　　"Two goals, and two assists!"

　　"Chelsea are going wild!"

　　"Barcelona's defense has been completely shattered!"

　　"The Camp Nou's status in Europe is being shaken tonight!"

　　"La Masia reject, single-handedly destroying Barcelona's defensive system!"

　　In the live broadcast.

　　The comments are flying.

　　-

　　[So cool!]

　　-

　　[A leisurely stroll, inspecting the defense!]

　　-

　　[Poor old Enrique!]

　　-

　　[Lee Mingdeng: Coming to Barcelona's backfield is like coming home. Busquets, Pique, and Roberto all actively make way for me.]

　　-

　　[Cthulhu Tulip advance!]

　　-

　　[No matter who coaches this Barcelona team, they can't stop La Masia's number 4!]

　　-

　　[Umtiti isn't bad, he's up against Diego Costa. Barcelona's defense isn't too bad either, but they have to deal with two core players, Lee Kang and Hazard.]

　　Camp Nou, West Stand

　　Mixed in with the voices of tens of thousands of people are various strange emotions.

　　Joy.

　　Bewilderment.

　　Shock.

　　Anger.

　　The peak Dream Team era.

　　Xavi's successor.

　　One million.

　　Installments.

　　A moment later.

　　In the end, the cheers of the Chelsea fans prevail.

　　"Lee!!!"

　　"Co

　　"Barcelona has a great free-kick opportunity!"

　　"Unsurprisingly, Messi will take it!"

　　"According to the data from the past two seasons, Messi, Lee Kang, Çalhanoğlu, Pjanić, and Willian are the players with the highest free-kick conversion rates."

　　"A terrifying figure close to 17%!"

　　"The five men who treat free kicks like penalties!"

　　Messi's free kicks used to be average. He only started to show results in 2015.

　　A dozen seconds later.

　　Chelsea's wall is set up in the penalty area.

　　Messi stands in front of the ball.

　　Looking at the goal, he takes a few steps back.

　　Beep!

　　Short run-up!

　　His body bends into an arc!

　　Shot!

　　The ball is like a rainbow, spinning at high speed, as if it can turn, soaring over the wall towards the upper right corner of the goal.

　　Buffon anticipates the direction correctly.

　　Leaping forward.

　　Showing the world his incredibly long reach.

　　But just as it approaches the goal line, the ball suddenly dips!

　　Chelsea's net is pierced.

　　1:2!!!

　　The Barcelona players immediately surround Messi.

　　Holding the ball, they run back to the center circle together.

　　The Catalan fans raise their arms and cheer.

　　The Camp Nou is once again engulfed in a red and blue wave!

　　Hope.

　　The Catalan fans see hope of leveling the score.

　　The Barcelona executives in the VIP box also get excited, praising Messi profusely, no longer seeing him as a rat in the sewers.

　　"Messi!"

　　"Messi has pulled Barcelona back from the brink!"

　　"He created the free-kick opportunity!"

　　"He scored the free kick!"

　　"King of the Camp Nou!"

　　"Single-handedly battling the brilliant stars on the shoulders of the Blue Beast!"

　　The ball is placed back on the center circle.

　　Both sides' players take their positions.

　　Beep! Beep beep~

　　The referee blows the whistle to end the first half.

　　Buffon hugs Rüdiger, who looks apologetic.

　　It looks like a father comforting his son:

　　"It's normal, that's Messi."

　　"But he's just one man now, it's not so easy for him to threaten us in open play."

　　"We're still in the lead!"

　　Hearing this.

　　The Chelsea players can't help but smile.

　　The slightly dejected mood is swept away.

　　Lee Kang slowly walks off the field, his ears filled with Catalan and English.

　　The red line of the God's-eye view contracts.

　　Is the tactical battle in this game difficult?

　　Not difficult.

　　Tuchel completely suppresses Valverde.

　　The only variable Barcelona has that can affect the game is Messi in midfield.

　　Back in the locker room.

　　Tuchel isn't angry about conceding a goal.

　　After all, the free kick that the opponent scored was too unstoppable.

　　He excitedly pulls over the tactical board, gesturing wildly.

　　"The game is getting simpler and simpler!"

　　"Barcelona's attack is very one-dimensional, their defense is teetering!"

　　"If we seize our opportunities, the score could be 1:6 right now!"

　　"We have a positional advantage in multiple areas!"

　　"The existing defensive setup has already frozen Suarez and Paulinho."

　　"This is a very simple game!"

　　"..."

　　"We must maintain the momentum from the first half!"

　　The magnetic markers are moved frantically.

　　The Chelsea coach carefully analyzes the opponent's weaknesses, his expression confident.

　　A moment later, Morata is called aside.

　　"Don't worry, boss, I'm a Barcelona killer."

　　The fifteen-minute break ends quickly.

　　Both sides return to the pitch.

　　The Camp Nou immediately returns to its noisy state.

　　"Chelsea has made a substitution."

　　"Morata replaces Diego Costa!"

　　"This is a like-for-like substitution!"

　　"Barcelona has also made an adjustment!"

　　"Dembélé replaces Iniesta!"

　　The Catalan fans celebrate again!

　　Hope to level the score! The 100 million man, Dembélé!

　　Dembélé doesn't greet his former Dortmund coach, Tuchel.

　　The way he left Dortmund was similar to Courtois.

　　This little black kid has experienced racial discrimination, having been repeatedly insulted as a monkey and having bananas thrown at him.

　　However.

　　He also discriminates against Asians.

　　"Ousmane, good luck! Show your talent on the Champions League stage!"

　　Valverde encourages him loudly.

　　The second half is even more intense.

　　Valverde regrets it.

　　He mutters to himself by the sidelines, looking regretful:

　　"Oh no!"

　　"Dembélé is too flashy! He's wasting opportunities! What's the point of going past Azpilicueta after all that effort? Barcelona's entire attack is disrupted…"

　　"Pass the ball to Messi!"

　　"Pass it now!"

　　"Messi is in a better position, why are you still holding onto the ball?"

　　"It's intercepted!"

　　David Luiz intercepts the ball.

　　Barcelona's attacking players quickly surround him, blocking the "forward short pass" from the frizzy-haired defender.

　　The overall formation also shifts from 3-4-1-2 back to 4-4-2!

　　No use.

　　Because Chelsea's forward line now has a top-level forward who drops deep to assist: Morata!

　　Morata drops back to the center circle in time, creating a support point for the frizzy-haired defender's medium-range pass!

　　Snap!

　　After receiving the ball, Morata moves to the left!

　　Lee Kang provides support.

　　Legendary link-up!

　　As if they're telepathic, they play a series of one-twos, breaking through Barcelona's high defensive line!

　　Tuchel applauds loudly.

　　Dino excitedly shouts, "That's how you use a striker!"

　　Advancing into Barcelona's half, into the thirty-meter zone.

　　Morata returns to the center forward position.

　　Hazard continues to link up with Lee Kang.

　　The left-wing attacking group starts to explode!

　　On the other side.

　　Azpilicueta on the right wing sprints forward, providing a switch point!

　　Kanté is active on the periphery of the attack, ready to provide cover at all times.

　　Chelsea's ground-based siege is completely different from the first half!

　　"Hazard is too fierce!"

　　"Gets rid of his defender, penetrates from the ribs!"

　　"Another cross!"

　　"Morata heads it across!"

　　"Lee Kang cuts in!"

　t's in!"

　　Ter Stegen is unwilling to accept it, and angrily pounds the turf!

　　The Barcelona defenders are suffering in silence.

　　They barely managed to adapt to Diego Costa's positional pressure in the first half.

　　Now they have to face Morata's three-dimensional attack.

　　The Catalan chants in the Camp Nou disappear instantly.

　　The hope of leveling the score, which had just been rekindled, is extinguished again by Lee Kang's goal.

　　Live broadcast.

　　The big screen replays the attacking sequence.

　　It looks both complicated and simple.

　　-

　　[Although Morata is two-footed, he's super functional!]

　　-

　　[Lee Kang is a super wingman!]

　　-

　　[When those two get close, I can't even tell who's the striker and who's the midfielder.]

　　-

　　[I thought Barcelona could stage a comeback... but they're stunned again!]

　　-

　　[Chelsea's forward combination is too rich, either Diego Costa or Morata! There's also Pedro and Willian on the bench!]

　　-

　　[Massacre game!]

　　After hugging Lee Kang, Morata picks up the ball, tucks it under his shirt, pretends to be pregnant, and runs towards the corner flag.

　　That's right.

　　The former youngster is about to become a father!

　　"Lee, score another one! I want to have twins!"

　　"You becoming a father... what does it have to do with Lee?"

　　The Chelsea teammates end the celebration amidst laughter and cheers.

　　Valverde is trembling all over.

　　The Barcelona players look lost.

　　Chelsea's attacking methods in the second half... are just too terrifying.

　　By the sidelines.

　　Tuchel applauds loudly.

　　Dino looks delighted.

　　Diego Costa excitedly punches Willian: "My chemistry with Lee... is about to be overshadowed by that kid Morata!"

　　Willian immediately punches back and says, "Your finishing is more reliable than his! Lee definitely likes you more!"

　　60th minute.

　　Barcelona manages to create a rare counter-attacking opportunity amidst Chelsea's constant pressure!

　　Suarez receives a pass from Messi in the attacking third and sprints forward.

　　But he doesn't get far.

　　The Chelsea defenders have already retreated and set up their defensive formation.

　　"Suarez has sacrificed a lot for Barcelona's system. He's lost his speed due to gaining weight."

　　"If this was back in his Liverpool days, he would have knocked the ball past the defender and created a one-on-one opportunity."

　　Kanté intercepts the ball.

　　And immediately passes it to the frizzy-haired defender.

　　David Luiz's long passing ability is very strong.

　　Thump!

　　He tears open Barcelona's high defensive line once again.

　　Lee Kang and Morata start simultaneously, shaking off Umtiti and Piqué.

　　Legendary link-up!

　　Ter Stegen is facing two attackers alone.

　　His body's center of gravity is lost in the sideways passing of the ball.

　　He can only watch helplessly as Lee Kang puts the ball into the net.

　　1:4!!!

　　It's over.

　　Barcelona has been broken.

　　The Catalan fans want to cry but have no tears.

　　Messi rolls around on the ground in frustration.

　　With wave after wave of attacks from the Blues.

　　Old and new grievances are being settled.

　　The Chelsea players are like wolves and tigers.

　　As if they want to score all the penalties that were wrongfully disallowed in the Stamford Bridge Massacre!

　　In the VIP box, the Barcelona executives are shaking with fear: they've already been humiliated by Real Madrid in the Spanish Super Cup with a five-goal thrashing. Tonight, they're facing an even more terrifying massacre.

　　Four hundred million.

　　Four hundred million in transfer spending.

　　One million.

　　One million in installment payments.

　　How do you even calculate this account?

　　Finally.

　　Beep! Beep beep~

　　The referee blows the whistle to end the match.

　　Barcelona 1:7 Chelsea.

　　(End of this chapter)