Chapter 193: AI Awakens with Phantom Runs, Atlético Get Yellowed and Slaughtered
Before the first half ended, neither side scored again.
A 1–1 scoreline was acceptable to both.
The only thing Arsenal were unhappy about was that Xia Qi had a yellow card.
At halftime, Wenger calmly described to the players the tactics he'd heard from Simeone on the touchline.
He didn't embellish — he was simply stating a fact.
"Kids, in the second half they'll keep trying to get Xia Qi sent off. Are you prepared to play without Xia Qi? At some point in the second half they'll make another attempt."
"Boss, substitute Xia Qi, let us handle the game."
Kevin De Bruyne's suggestion was first opposed by Xia Qi.
"Wouldn't that make me a deserter? Let me stay on. I'll control my challenges and won't fall for it."
Wenger looked at Xia Qi seriously and asked in a low voice, "Can I trust you?"
"Of course. We Chinese men keep our word."
Wenger nodded without expression. As he turned away his smile could no longer be held.
Outside the dressing room Pat Rice said a little worriedly, "Look how pleased you are. Do you really value a Champions League tie to risk a young player's growth? The club might not think it's worth it."
"A big boy only becomes a man under pressure and responsibility. There's a risk of losing the Champions League, but I think it's worth it. As for the club, if Xia Qi is sent off, I'll take responsibility at the board meeting."
…
When the second half started and Xia Qi stepped back onto the pitch, a sudden sound rang in his head:
"Ding dong."
"Please choose 'Training' or 'Match' mode, host."
"Tong-ge?"
"You've awakened?"
The system didn't answer, continuing in a mechanical voice:
"Please choose 'Training' or 'Match' mode, host."
"Match."
"Please select pitch position: A forward, B midfield…"
"B."
"A attacking-mid, B defensive-mid, C central-mid, D left winger…"
"D!"
"Detected that the host's team is currently in difficulty; matching host with [Maldini playing style] attribute."
"Immovable as a mountain, aggressive as fire; playstyle clean as pure water."
"Please choose 'Autonomous Mode' or 'One-Click AFK Mode'."
"Friendly reminder: while AFK, the system will automatically complete the host's actions."
"One-click AFK!"
"Easy AFK, one-click auto-complete, free your feet and bring a relaxed, joyful pitch experience! Match experience begins now."
Immediately, Xia Qi's whole aura shifted into something executive-like.
A silent power filled him, muscles tensing, thoughts clear, fighting spirit high.
…
The second half began and Atlético were still as fierce as in the first — but Arsenal were prepared.
They used possession to neutralize Atlético's mad-dog style, which was Simeone's worst fear.
He waved on the touchline and several players charged at Xia Qi. In AI-mode Xia Qi was extremely calm: he divided play, quietly becoming a wingman for his teammates!
Atlético's heavy blows landed on a heap of cotton.
On the pitch, Mario Balotelli drove forward with the ball and glanced toward the box.
Xia Qi had been hovering on the left side of the box, with García tracking him.
Xia Qi suddenly braked sharply and ran back; García turned quickly to follow, but
it was a feint.
AI-mode Xia Qi, ignoring physical dynamics, stopped again, turned and ran back.
The gap opened up and he ran out into it with two change-of-direction runs.
In an instant,
Balotelli, who had been dazed a moment before, found "organization" in that instant — he mentally praised his friend's ghost run without the ball and prepared to slip the pass.
Suddenly Atlético's Juanfran rushed in and launched a sliding tackle that hit the turf.
The tackle was ferocious, studs glinting under the floodlights with a cold flash of "I'll take your feet off."
If Balotelli had recklessly played the pass, those shining studs would have dug into his calves. Though he wore shin guards, Balotelli wouldn't gamble.
He prioritized self-preservation and leapt clear of Juanfran's tackle.
"Tackle him out!"
"Atleti's style is as dirty as ever; they didn't even pull their studs down — the bare minimum."
In the Tencent live stream, commentator Zhan Jun, an unconditional supporter of Xia Qi, shouted angrily.
Online, Xia Qi's supporters condemned Atlético's play.
"I used to admire Atlético; I respected how they survived between Barça and Real, turning La Liga into a three-way contest. But tonight I see they play dirty…"
"Xia Qi got smarter in the second half — the continuous blind sprints and runs were simply brilliant. García's been spun round and round; he can't keep up…"
García panted heavily, staring in disbelief at Xia Qi's steady breathing.
Exceptional stamina, ghostly runs, excellent game-reading intelligence…
Those qualities added up to: Atlético's nemesis.
García swore to himself he would get Xia Qi sent off.
Such a dangerous opponent should be on the bench.
Balotelli waited as players protested Juanfran's reckless challenge; referee Rizzoli gave Juanfran a verbal warning.
Juanfran's apology seemed sincere, but he turned and gave Xia Qi a provocative glance.
Unfortunately, in AI-mode Xia Qi had no emotions and was unaffected.
On the touchline Simeone applauded loudly — clapping for Juanfran disrupting an Arsenal attack.
He vocally protested Rizzoli's verbal warning…
"What kind of refereeing is this? Why don't you officiate ping-pong? Football is a man's game — how can you ban physical contact?"
He knew full well; they had to apply pressure to the referee otherwise his players wouldn't get away with the disruption.
Thinking back, Simeone's heart had leapt to his throat when he saw Xia Qi run into that pocket earlier.
Fortunately, Juanfran's defending was smart — psychological first.
"Double-team him! Raúl, double up — don't be ashamed."
After protesting, Simeone immediately ordered García to coordinate with teammates and double up on Xia Qi.
That kid can't be handled one-on-one.
García nodded, saying he'd use a "summoning" tactic.
He grinned toothily, "Coach asks a group to single him out — surrender now!"
But Xia Qi ignored him with the arrogance of a proud goose, striding toward the left flank.
Then he cocked his head slightly at García.
To García that gesture read: Bring it on!
García, angered more at himself than at Xia Qi, signaled to Juanfran and the two of them moved to mark Xia Qi together.
In fact, Xia Qi hadn't made any special move — AI is proud.
Play continued.
Arsenal had a set-piece in the attacking third, but the position wasn't ideal for a direct shot.
Kevin De Bruyne took a tactical free kick.
The ball reached Balotelli, who looked like he might shoot from distance but instead hooked it back on his heel.
De Bruyne, arriving at the far post, didn't take a touch and squared it across.
The ball arrived at Xia Qi's feet.
Receiving it, Xia Qi executed a "Messi shoulder drop" feint; García thought he was cutting inside and hurried to block inward.
At the same time, Xia Qi withdrew his shoulder and nudged the ball toward the flank.
Juanfran, who had dropped back to cover behind García, came up from García's side,
successfully channeling Xia Qi's outside lane and completing a beautiful covering block, and then — in a covert move — jarred his knee into Xia Qi.
It was a completely unnecessary, extra action.
Perhaps to Atlético it was a cheap advantage: even if it didn't hurt Xia Qi, it would have a deterrent effect.
But in AI-mode's eyes it was needless meddling.
To the AI, Juanfran's knee bump meant he'd effectively surrendered his balance.
Xia Qi immediately seized the mistake, nudging the ball between Juanfran's legs,
then ran out toward the byline, circling behind Juanfran.
"Xia Qi takes the ball past him!"
"Xia Qi's on the byline; Arsenal have three attackers against four defenders in the box — this is a chance!"
At the corner flag, Xia Qi didn't immediately cross. Instead he dribbled along the goal line toward the far post.
GODÍN had no option but to shout to his teammates and charge toward Xia Qi.
Before Godín could block him, Xia Qi raised his left foot and rolled the ball with the inside arch.
Everyone watching assumed he was about to cross.
Atlético's defenders and defensive mids in the box executed all they could to intercept or disrupt the connection between Xia Qi and his teammates.
But this was an outside-curve strike: the ball rose and carved toward the box like a meteor chasing the moon, rotating outward relative to the pitch.
The ball traced a "C" in the air — but that "C" pointed toward goal.
"Xia Qi crosses — ah! A zero-angle shot?!"
Thibaut Courtois stood like a rock on the goal line, waiting for the Arsenal attackers to strike.
But the next second the ball, with a whoosh, flew over his head.
In an instant,
ten thousand curses rushed through his mind.
Damn it —
he'd been careless!
Courtois mentally sent many Belgian greetings while reflexively leaping to claw at the ball.
Undeniably his goalkeeping was top-tier; with so little time he still managed to touch it.
But the strength at his fingertips wasn't enough to change the ball's path.
Courtois felt he would have been better off not diving at all.
That feeling stung more than the earlier cheeky goal.
The ball brushed slightly and struck the underside of the crossbar, then rebounded into the net.
"A zero-angle strike!"
"Another contender for the Goal of the Season, a Puskás-worthy goal."
"Xia Qi not only scores tonight, he scores divine goals — if it isn't beautiful, he simply won't score!"
"This was a Van Basten, Maicon, Roberto Carlos… all the gods possessing a zero-angle finish!"
After scoring, Xia Qi's expression was calm; he walked back to the center circle as if each step were measured to perfection.
When the ball passed Courtois' fingertips, Arsenal fans went wild and "The Xia Qi Song" filled the Emirates Stadium.
When fans saw Xia Qi not celebrating but slowly returning to the center as if invincible, they erupted even louder.
They assumed Xia Qi was purposely modest; they'd award him a 9 out of 10 — any less and Xia Qi might get arrogant.
Actually Xia Qi had simply forgotten to trigger a celebration animation.
On the touchline Simeone hauled Juanfran over and gave him a tongue-lashing…
2–1!
Arsenal had taken the lead.
After Atlético restarted, the veteran reliability showed.
Koke swung a cross from the flank; David Villa got ahead of Per Mertesacker, controlled with a flick and a drag to free himself from Mertesacker, and struck a powerful shot.
Martínez made a key save and pushed it away.
Villa's finish had been excellent.
Control into a dribble into a shot — seamless and without extra motion. If Martínez hadn't been so alert, the ball would have gone in.
Buoyed by Villa's strike, Atlético's attacks rose wave upon wave. During this period Arsenal only earned a single corner; otherwise they posed no threat to the goal Courtois guarded.
Meanwhile Atlético threatened Arsenal's goal often but ended up all thunder and no rain.
For example, in the 62nd minute Gabi passed to Juanfran arriving at the far post; from more than thirty meters out Juanfran tried a long-range shot.
The ball sailed just over the bar.
Arsenal counterattacked and De Bruyne began to slow the tempo, not immediately pushing everyone forward after the restart. Instead he led the center and defensive players in passes at the back.
After several exchanges, Atlético's defensive line began to spread out.
At that moment De Bruyne played a long ball from deep to Balotelli up front.
Balotelli jumped to contest a header with Miranda; in their jostle neither got to the ball cleanly.
The ball hit Miranda's back and ricocheted aside — right to where Xia Qi was.
Fortunately for Xia Qi, García was glued to him.
Seeing the ball fly toward Xia Qi, García pounced like a starving tiger, decisive and rapid.
But Xia Qi, who looked 1.88m, had delicate feet.
Before García could reach him, Xia Qi flicked the ball up with the outside of his right foot.
The ball flew over García's head.
At the same time, to avoid García's aggressive tackle, Xia Qi used García as a pivot, turned a full circle, rounding García — dodging the challenge and perfectly receiving his own flick.
Xia Qi's take-ons had an artistic air; the Emirates applauded thunderously. Even a few Atlético fans couldn't help clapping, then awkwardly stopped under the death glares of those next to them.
Actually, Xia Qi didn't immediately control the ball after turning.
He waited for the covering Tiago to come across and then thrust his leg to flick the ball over Tiago's back.
Xia Qi got past another man.
"Continuous flicks to beat defenders — Xia Qi toys with them."
Godín's brow knitted so tightly he could crush a mosquito.
Why am I always the one covering?
He felt resentful but had no choice but to charge at Xia Qi.
Xia Qi lifted the ball again,
and Godín, ready, turned and stepped to the right to block Xia Qi's run.
But this time the ball didn't go over Godín's head.
Xia Qi only lifted it half a man-high; as it dropped,
he leaned his body to the right with his right foot planted firmly and his left leg swung high behind and then forward to strike.
This time Xia Qi didn't flick to beat a man.
The flick had been a deception.
The shot was the real intent.
Godín's turn and movement were all for nothing.
The ball screamed like a cannon shell toward the goal Courtois guarded…
(END CHAPTER)
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