"Bar?a's rhythm is really steady!"

  "They're still behind on the scoreboard, but they're playing with no sense of urgency at all!"

  "Wang, what do you think?"

  Duan asked as he watched Xavi methodically orchestrate Bar?a's attack from the sports channel's broadcast room.

  "Bar?a have far more attacking options than FC Schalke 04, who have to rely entirely on Su's passing!"

  "Several of Bar?a's forwards are capable of breaking down opposing defenses single-handedly!"

  "On the other side, FC Schalke 04 has focused their entire defensive effort on containing Messi, which is no easy task!"

  "But Pedro, Villa, and even Iniesta—any one of them can change the scoreline on their own!"

  Twenty-first minute of play!

  Bar?a had already earned two corner kicks and taken six shots on goal.

  If not for Neuer's heroic saves, the score would have been level by now.

  Su abandoned all offensive duties and began shadowing Messi closely.

  Ever since acquiring the Wind-treading Combat Boots, Su had discovered he was surprisingly effective against Messi.

  He wasn't an elite defender or tackler, but his speed made up for it.

  The most remarkable feature of the Wind-treading Combat Boots was the 50% boost to all movements.

  His acceleration, turning speed—everything was faster.

  Schalke's fans weren't the least bit disheartened seeing their team pinned back by Bar?a. Instead, they roared the Schalke anthem, urging their players on.

  It had been years since Schalke had faced a team like Bar?a at this tempo—even Real Madrid hadn't pressed them this hard.

  As long as they held on, victory would be Schalke's. When it came to entertainment, the fans cared only about the result.

  Messi was uncharacteristically subdued under Su's relentless marking, forcing Bar?a to shift their focus away from his right flank for the time being.

  Pedro, on the left, began seeing much more of the ball.

  At the moment, Pedro was up against Nicolas Plestan, who had replaced Uchida, near the byline.

  Nicolas Plestan was physically stronger than Uchida, but he lacked the Japanese defender's agility.

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  Pedro feinted right with a sharp stepover, his entire body leaning dramatically in that direction.

  The move instantly dragged Plestan out of position.

  But Pedro had been waiting for this.

  Before Plestan could recover, Pedro pulled the ball back with his left foot, nudging it past the defender on the left.

  "Oops! Dangerous!"

  "Nicolas Plestan is so clumsy... Uchida Atsuto could at least keep up, but Plestan is like a statue!"

  "Pedro drives into the box along the byline!"

  "Pedro cuts it back!"

  "Villa!"

  "A quick flick!!!"

  "Oh no!!!"

  "It's in!!!"

  "Twenty-three minutes into the game! David Villa meets Pedro's cross and sneaks in front of Metzelder to score!"

  "Too close to the goal!"

  "Neuer had no chance to react!"

  "1-1! The equalizer!"

  "Bar?a finally breaks through after their seventh consecutive shot!"

  The Veltins-Arena fell silent—except for the small contingent of Bar?a fans who had traveled from Spain, still chanting relentlessly.

  Su, still shadowing Messi, could only sigh helplessly.

  Nicolas Plestan had made only three appearances all season.

  Even if he had the ability, with so little playing time, there was no way he could adapt to the intensity of a Champions League semifinal!

  But FC Schalke 04 had no other options. Their winter signing was out for the season, leaving Hao as the only available right-back.

  And frankly, Hao’s defending wasn’t much better than Plestan’s.

  Magath was truly in a tough spot.

  On the sidelines, Guardiola finally exhaled in relief after Villa’s goal.

  Once the first goal went in, more would surely follow.

  Now, the real challenge was preparing for the final.

  Bar?a just had to contain Su—Schalke had no other game-changers left.

  And Bar?a?

  You mark Messi? Fine. We still have Villa, Pedro, Xavi, and Iniesta.

  That’s the difference between an ordinary team and a football giant.

  An insurmountable gap.

  Across the pitch, Magath sat frozen on the bench.

  There was nothing he could adjust.

  No players. No better option than Nicolas Plestan.

  And he had already committed his entire defensive focus to the right.

  If he changed things now, what about Messi?

  Pedro was dangerous, but nowhere near the threat Messi posed.

  The match resumed shortly after.

  FC Schalke 04’s attack!

  Su found himself in the same situation as before.

  Whenever he carried the ball—whether in the attacking third or out wide—

  It's at least a three-man marking.

  And, to make matters worse, when Su drifts left, even Messi drops back to help defend.

  "See?"

  "I told you!"

  "The gap between these two teams is too big!"

  "It's like Texas Hold'em—you might flop a flush, but what if your opponent has a full house or a straight flush?"

  "Su did well to stick with Messi on that last throw-in!"

  "But that's only because Su, Smits, and Peer Kluge were all defending together!"

  "You commit three men to stop Messi—what about the others?"

  In the commentary box, Wang and Duan sighed as they watched the stalemate unfold.

  —Damn, it's true. Thinking Su alone could handle Bar?a was way too optimistic.

  —Even Cristiano Ronaldo couldn't beat Bar?a with Kaká's help, let alone Su. Who does Su have? Boujellab? ...Ahem! Sorry, I meant Boujellab!

  —Modern football isn't an era where one player can carry a team to glory anymore. Especially in the UCL—to win, you don't just need great players on the pitch. You need a full tactical analysis team, a deep and strong squad, seamless coordination across all departments, and, most importantly, clinical execution from every player...!

  —"Damn, this guy above knows his stuff!"

  —Su is already incredible. That fastest goal just now? He now holds two unbeatable records—a five-goal haul in eight minutes and a nine-second UCL opener!

  —Legend! I'm not expecting much here. Losing is normal. Bar?a has too many weapons—you can't expect Su to score a hat-trick, that's just unrealistic!

  Back at the Veltins-Arena...

  Su had just carried the ball past midfield when Xavi, Iniesta, and Pedro swarmed him.

  Before he could release the ball, Pedro slid in and stripped it from his feet.

  Xavi immediately fired a pass toward Messi.

  And in that moment—

  Messi's masterpiece finally began.

  ................