Barcelona's senior management was starting to waver.

A month ago, in the Spanish Super Cup.

Barcelona 1-5 Real Madrid.

The *Blaugrana* were completely suppressed by the *Galácticos*.

A group of new signings were utterly humiliated.

The four-hundred-million-dollar cosmic team couldn't compare to Real Madrid, whose transfer investment over the past two seasons was roughly zero.

A disgrace.

Although they had achieved three consecutive victories at the start of the La Liga season, their opponents were all mid-to-lower-ranked teams.

"Why not field the young star players we just signed?"

"Don't interfere this time; we'll listen to Valverde. Barcelona can't afford to lose."

Club President Bartomeu adjusted his glasses and sighed.

They had spent so much money, but far from creating a peak dynasty, a group of new signings couldn't even compare to the 'old and frail' original squad!

Having played football himself, he knew that new signings couldn't perform at their best until they had fully integrated with the team.

Letting Valverde field the veterans might at least give them an advantage in the first 70 minutes.

The football moved back and forth across the green pitch.

The night wind ruffled Tuchel's receding hairline.

"Boss, just as we predicted, Barcelona has changed formation during the build-up!"

"3-4-1-2."

Dino stood up, overjoyed, and continued, "Once they advance past the forty-meter mark, their formation will definitely become 3-2-3-2! We have their entire strategy in our grasp!"

Tuchel pressed his hands down, his expression not revealing too much excitement.

Strategy was just strategy.

But Barcelona had a top-tier variable: Messi, the number 10 midfielder.

Not an explosive Messi, not a false nine Messi, but a number 10 Messi who could qualitatively transform the team's overall attack.

Who was the strongest attacking midfielder on Earth?

Perhaps it would be Messi, who would soon be completely transformed.

Barcelona had possession.

Li Kang's God's-eye view frantically analyzed, with countless red lines spreading out.

He and Kanté pressed forward together, rushing into Barcelona's half and initiating a press.

Iniesta, under pressure, could only pass the ball backward.

The back was also unsafe.

Diego Costa frantically harassed Piqué.

Busquets had to retreat to protect the defense.

Piqué and Umtiti widened the space.

The football was transferred to the midfield.

Faced with a pack of wolf-like Chelsea players, Barcelona's two full-backs quickly moved up to provide more passing options in midfield.

Barcelona's formation also changed from 4-5-1 to 3-4-1-2.

"Messi retreats, receiving the ball with his back to the goal!"

"He fooled Azpilicueta."

"The football is like a part of his body, a perfect back-heel pass!"

"Paulinho is now rushing into the forward position; he uses his strong body to hold off Bakayoko, a beautiful wall pass!"

"The football returns to Messi's feet!"

Messi was now the '1' in the 3-4-1-2 formation.

His running posture was unique, diving forward when accelerating!

He rushed past the forty-meter mark.

Li Kang and Kanté completed their positioning, quickly closing in for an interception.

There was no one-on-two breakthrough as expected.

Barcelona's two wing-backs arrived to support.

With a snap.

Messi passed the ball to Roberto.

Suddenly, he slowed his pace, starting to stroll. A few seconds later, he sprinted again!

The stands of Camp Nou.

Accompanying Roberto's advance, the shouts of the Catalan fans became more and more intense!

"Paulinho didn't come back; he and Suárez are at the forefront of Barcelona's formation!"

"It's hard to imagine that a Chinese Super League utility player has been reborn under Valverde! Able to be active on the top stage of the Champions League!"

"His biggest role is still to rotate with Messi and provide a passing and receiving protection!"

"Roberto goes inside!"

"He makes contact with Messi, causing Chelsea's defense to start shrinking back!"

"Beautiful pass!"

"Messi is rushing into the ribs again!"

"Going outside?"

The combat characteristics of the number 10 Messi ignited the atmosphere of Camp Nou.

Sudden bursts after walking and receiving the ball.

Chelsea's two lines of defense quickly overlapped, concentrating their forces on Messi!

In an instant, Barcelona's number 10 displayed unparalleled foot speed.

Dribbling horizontally!

The left foot landed three times in a row!

Accelerate!

Decelerate!

Accelerate!

Dreamlike rhythm.

Continuous change of direction.

Even if the Chelsea players nearby saw his movements clearly, their bodies couldn't react!

"He's past them!"

"A touch of red and blue, passing through the white crowd."

"Only when the bright moon falls into the mountains will the stars shine!"

"Unexpected horizontal ground transfer!"

"A sword cuts through Chelsea's steel defense!"

The organization, linking, and deadly passing abilities of the number 10 Messi were almost at their peak!

The purpose of breaking through horizontally to the left was to create an excellent attacking environment for teammates on the right!

The football was like a sharp blade.

Instantly tearing apart Chelsea's two lines of defense!

The home momentum of Camp Nou also soared to its highest point at this moment!

Valverde trembled with excitement.

Tuchel smiled.

Buffon was eager to try.

"Iniesta!"

"Li Kang!"

"A head-on confrontation between two generations of La Masia's talented midfielders!"

The breeze from the banks of the Rio de la Plata River lifted his black hair and the hem of his clothes.

The Baresi phantom in his vision roared angrily.

Li Kang stood in front of his opponent.

His actions did not overlap with the phantom.

Why?

Iniesta didn't have time to think about why.

After receiving the ball, he quickly adjusted his shooting posture.

The shooting angle was already blocked by Li Kang.

But this couldn't stump Barcelona's big-game player.

He moved his feet slightly.

Iniesta hammered the ball towards the only path to goal.

Hesitation would lead to defeat.

Hesitation would waste the opportunity Messi had created.

Rüdiger was already coming over!

*Thump!*

The football hugged the turf and hammered towards Chelsea's goal.

Buffon slightly adjusted his position.

Although he had everything under control, he vaguely felt like he was a few years younger.

He quickly knelt on one knee, squatting down to catch the ball.

He didn't fumble.

Suárez, who was trying to follow up with a shot, almost crashed into the goalpost.

"Oh!"

"Buffon accurately predicted Iniesta's shooting path!"

The livestream.

The barrage of comments flew.

-

[Messi is awesome! Half-step ball king!]

-

[Iniesta's fuel tank is still full; his diagonal forward runs are simply telepathic with Messi!]

-

[Buffon also turned on the prediction cheat.]

-

[Li Mingdeng's god-level positioning.]

-

[Looking at the replay, Kanté and Bakayoko worked hard to defend the inside line, leading Messi to the "matrix" in the side ribs. Chelsea also took into account Messi's ability to transfer the ball to the weak side with various double-teams and protections for breaking through to the outside line horizontally. In this way and that way, Tuchel made very traditional "weak-side protection" arrangements. Li Mingdeng and Rüdiger timely restricted Iniesta's shooting angle and adjustment time, allowing Buffon to enter a familiar defensive state.]

-

[This is the best way to limit the half-step ball king.]

-

[Does Buffon still have time to joke with the other side?]

Buffon didn't continue to squat.

After taking a few steps to run up.

He swung his right arm in a circle!

He made a motion to smash the ball hard towards the frontcourt!

Barcelona's frontcourt players were shocked.

*Whack!*

The football landed at Li Kang's feet outside the penalty area.

*Thump!*

The night sky of Camp Nou, a rainbow piercing the sun!

"Buffon and Li Kang's counter-attack cooperation caught Barcelona's high defensive line a little off guard in terms of rhythm changes."

"Here it comes!"

"Chelsea's attack!"

Diego Costa started quickly.

His speed was not as fast as Umtiti!

The two of them, one in front and one behind, rushed towards the landing point and jumped up.

Close-up audio equipment allowed the audience to hear a muffled sound.

Umtiti had made great progress, but he couldn't compete with Chelsea's beastly center forward!

"No foul!"

"Umtiti was knocked down!"

"Diego Costa turned and sprinted after stopping the ball!"

"The raging blue beast!"

"..."

"Busquets can't catch up!"

"Diego Costa carried Piqué and shot angrily!"

*Thump!*

Chelsea's sharp striker swung his leg slightly!

Camp Nou seemed to tremble gently, recalling the fear of being dominated by Atletico Madrid's number 19.

The football, like a cannonball, howled and blasted open Barcelona's goal!

0:1!!!

The Catalan fans were stunned.

The cheers of the Chelsea fans were like a blue storm, sweeping Camp Nou!

The viewers in front of the TV were dumbfounded.

Barcelona's frontcourt did a bunch of fancy operations but couldn't score.

Chelsea scored with a counter-attack.

"World-class frontcourt."

"The high defensive line of a mid-to-lower-ranked team."

"I'm putting it here; Messi will exhaust himself to death but won't be able to win the Champions League."

(End of this chapter)