Chapter 12 — A Tribute to the Great Left-Back Tonu
In the end, Xia Qi, like an ostrich facing a storm, chose to bury his head in the sand—
"One-Click Auto!"
Actually it wasn't even a real choice: with a 78 ability rating he certainly couldn't cope with Premier League high-level matches, and his team was two goals down.
How bitter!
Who told him he was weak!
Xia Qi swore he would make himself stronger.
…
"Easy auto, one-click automatic completion, free your feet, bring the host a relaxed and happy pitch experience! Match experience begins."
After that, Xia Qi's entire aura shifted into CEO mode — part Alain Delon handsome, part Zun Long cool.
"Wow, a serious man is so handsome!"
"Xia Qi looks so cool when he plays."
Many female fans' eyes filled with stars again.
…
He felt his body being guided by the system toward the opponent's half, not back toward his own.
Xia Qi exhaled in relief.
Scared the life out of me!
Sorry, System Bro, I misread you.
Play continued; Liverpool was on the attack.
Charm lasts only three seconds!
This is the truth!
Just after apologizing to the system, Xia Qi turned and stared straight at Luis Suárez behind him.
The system's unemotional voice sounded again:
"Ding…"
"Detected this opposing player as highly dangerous and likely to prevent the host from earning Man of the Match. Activating [Defender at the Pinnacle] attribute…"
"Precise target locked, target elimination in progress…"
Xia Qi's little heart leapt into his throat.
Ten thousand imaginary woolly llamas ran across his mind…
Elimination—what does that mean?
It can't be what I'm thinking, can it?
"No way!"
Before he could protest, his thoughts were wrenched by his body and flung back toward the defensive third.
He sprinted past Joe Allen breaking with the ball, leaving Allen and the defender Diaby in a mess in the wind…
He brushed past Sterling, who'd reached for the ball, then sidestepped and planted himself at Suárez's flank, cutting off the link between Suárez and Sterling.
Kieran Gibbs, defending Suárez, was left with a =(^.^)=??????? face.
Was I supposed to be a striker?
Outside of Arsenal, everyone assumed this was a Wenger tactical ploy.
With the classic precedent of a left-back like Torres, using a fast forward to strengthen one's defense seems to make sense.
In terms of tactical culture, Professor Wenger could be the master of Di Matteo.
A master's tactics are deep because you can't immediately understand them!
On the live channel a pundit explained: "Suárez is Liverpool's most dangerous player, and Wenger has deployed the faster Xia Qi to mark him — a brilliant move…"
Liverpool fans couldn't help but worry for their side; they feared Xia Qi might turn into "Xia Niu"!
You can lose the game!
Xia Niu must die!
So a larger wave of curses and boos flooded down on Xia Qi.
In reality,
both Wenger and Pat Rice were grinding their teeth in anger; if the cameras weren't on them they probably would have stormed the pitch and dragged him off themselves.
On the pitch, Liverpool didn't change their play because Xia Qi had come on.
They used the familiar recipe: Sterling drops deep, Suárez makes a forward run through the middle, and Sterling feeds Suárez.
The ball dropped to Suárez's front post; on his left was Xia Qi.
Both launched toward the drop point almost simultaneously.
But Xia Qi was faster!
Bale's speed might be slightly superior, but Xia Qi was quick.
As it looked like he might "lose" the race, at the moment Xia Qi controlled the ball, Suárez gave in to a nasty impulse and lashed out with his foot toward Xia Qi's ankle.
Suárez wasn't trying to injure straight away — that would be an absolute last resort!
What he most hoped to see was Xia Qi afraid and backing off.
So when he kicked he taunted into Xia Qi's ear: "I'm the bad guy."
The two moves—dirty and unsportsmanlike—were effective; Suárez had used them to good effect many times.
Sometimes he would meet someone who hit back hard.
But tonight he'd met someone who, though terrified, refused to give an inch — that was new.
Suárez clearly saw fear and panic in Xia Qi's eyes, but damn it, he wouldn't stop his kick.
That "I'll take the money, not my life" attitude enraged Suárez.
Suárez could bite to win — a man like him wouldn't easily stop himself.
And now, stirred into fury by Xia Qi's lack of backing down, he certainly didn't ease off.
The next second,
"Ah! My foot!"
Xia Qi couldn't feel the pain — yet he still felt it!
Damn one-click auto!
One-click auto is so stupid; it never cares whether the host lives or dies.
On the pitch,
Suárez expected Xia Qi to clutch his leg and roll on the turf; he was ready to throw up innocent hands and go to the referee.
Instead, Xia Qi was expressionless as if nothing had happened: control—pull—touch—turn, all in one fluid motion.
Suárez was baffled: did I not catch him?
Suárez, as a top-class player, thought quickly but kept his feet working.
He decisively shifted laterally to block Xia Qi's turning route.
Perfect!
Top-level anticipation!
He had just the right position to block Xia Qi; a collision was inevitable.
The strength gap was obvious:
Suárez's build towered over Xia Qi.
Liverpool fans cheered for Suárez's brilliant interception: "Nice tackle."
Nervous Arsenal fans covered their eyes.
Yet,
Xia Qi made a slight sideways step, and visually, with his compact five-seater-minicar frame, he resolutely stormed into the giant Toyota sedan.
With two bangs, everyone on the pitch dropped their jaws — the one knocked away was Suárez!
"Wow…!"
The stadium erupted into astonishment and chaos!
David beating Goliath!
Even the most melodramatic Indian soap operas wouldn't dare stage this!
Everyone instantly understood why the master had asked the little guy to mark Suárez!
Small cannon, great use!
Brilliant!
The referee signaled it was a fair challenge; play continued.
Xia Qi showed no pumped-up grin of a one-on-one victory; he coldly passed the ball to Vermaelen, pointed toward the opposition goal, and buried his head and surged forward.
In an instant, Arsenal sounded the charge.
Attack turned to defense!
A purple blur (the away kit) streaked past Steven Gerrard like lightning.
Gerrard had just turned and had no way to stop him; he could only shout in panic, "Martin!"
Martin Kelly and Martin Škrtel quickly shrank their defensive space; hearing Gerrard's shout they understood their captain's meaning.
Kelly obeyed and slowed to prepare to foul tactically.
"System Bro, watch out."
Before the words finished, Xia Qi accelerated a second time and flashed past Kelly.
Kelly reached out and grabbed at the afterimage.
"Damn!"
"How can he be so fast!"
"Shit! What a klutz, can't even foul properly!"
The Liverpool stands were in a panic!
On the live stream:
"A thousand miles returned in a single day, the light boat has passed ten thousand mountains!"
"Once there was left-back Torres, now there is center-back Xia Qi. Glorious! My Chinese lad!"
On the pitch,
Vermaelen received and fed the ball to Mikel Arteta. Seeing Xia Qi's lightning pace, Arteta didn't hesitate and laid a ground-through ball.
The pass direction matched Xia Qi's sprint perfectly.
The ball was fast and precise — Xia Qi's favorite kind of lead time.
At this point, Škrtel was the last line of Liverpool's back four.
He slid in to try to reach the ball.
But Xia Qi was faster!
Before Škrtel could get there, Xia Qi took the ball and faced goalkeeper Pepe Reina.
"Oh…!"
Anfield's crowd, who had been cursing Xia Qi non-stop, fell into dread.
They made a mountain-crumbling, sea-thundering chorus of boos trying to frighten him.
But this Xia Qi was an emotionless AI at the moment; their little tricks… hah, childish!
Everything happened so fast!
From Suárez being knocked away to Xia Qi's one-on-one, only 14 seconds had passed.
Reina had no time to come off his line and could only stand on the goal line.
In a blink Xia Qi entered the box and began his finishing stride.
It was unmistakably a shot.
Liverpool fans hissed and screamed hysteria.
Reina judged by Xia Qi's body lean and ankle motion and dived out.
But as Xia Qi's instep came down, his ankle suddenly twisted the other way and the ball was struck with the outside of his foot.
Accompanied by a deep inner wail: oh my delicate, tender ankle of my youthful twenty-two years!
The outside-of-the-foot curl arced straight into the far top corner.
Reina dived the wrong way and could only watch the ball go in.
2–1!
Xia Qi had run from his own half to the other end and across the entire pitch — a salute to the great left-back Tonu!
(END CHAPTER)
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