Chapter 739 - 136: Comeback! Poker! No. 9 God! Epic Derby! Fight, or Crawl? Biggest Scoreline in History

Yes, it was true—Chelsea was fighting the Gunners for possession. Furthermore, their passing success rate was higher than the Gunners’, and their tackling was far superior. Their crossing numbers were more than double Arsenal’s. So, Chelsea was absolutely dead set on attacking down the wings.

So, what should the Gunners do?

"We play fast!" Wenger had instructed. "We leverage our advantage in passing and cutting, press high up the pitch, and the moment we win the ball back, we launch rapid attacks behind their defensive line."

Strictly speaking, the biggest problem Boas faced at Chelsea right now wasn’t his conflict with the heavyweights in the locker room. That was just on the surface. The fundamental issue at its core was that he wanted Chelsea to play a high-pressing game!

But think about it—for so many years, Chelsea had been a team built on defensive counterattacks. Even during Ancelotti’s era, while their attacks seemed like rolling tides, they still essentially relied on a low-block defensive system. To suddenly transition to a high press? Could the team’s veterans handle it? Was it a good fit?

As a result, in the first nine rounds of the league, apart from a 0-0 away draw against Stoke City in their opener, Chelsea had conceded goals in every single match. Their offense might have been an unstoppable force, but their defense was guaranteed to leak goals. And the most they had conceded was during their 3-1 away loss to Manchester United. That was also the only top-eight team Chelsea had encountered so far.

In other words, all of Chelsea’s rankings and goals up to this point had been built on bullying the minnows. In their only heavyweight clash, they had lost 1-3 to Manchester United. This home match against Arsenal was their second real test.

After Wenger finished outlining all the tactical adjustments, he noticed that the locker room still lacked energy. It felt as if his tactical changes were completely hollow. It was as though something inside everyone’s mind was struggling, crumbling apart! This was the psychological blow brought on by conceding a goal in the first half’s stoppage time!

"Wang, say a few words," Wenger said, looking at Wang Shuo with deep trust and high expectations in his eyes.

The Professor had never been the type to effectively rally a team. He was calm, rational, and refined, but he wasn’t hot-blooded in the slightest. At crucial moments, he couldn’t deliver the kind of fiery speech needed to turn the tide! His two assistant coaches were exactly the same. Because of this, the Gunners’ pre-match and halftime mobilizations had always been quite poor. However, right now, Wenger felt that if anyone could step up and rally everyone, it had to be Wang Shuo!

Wang Shuo slowly stood up. Immediately, every gaze in the locker room converged on him. Wang Shuo looked back at them. His eyes seemed to possess a strange, piercing power, capable of seeing straight into the hearts of everyone present. He swept his gaze across his teammates’ faces one by one, making eye contact with each of them.

Finally, he let out a laugh.

"Are you all scared out of your wits by that Chelsea goal?"

No one answered his question. Only the sound of heavy breathing remained in the locker room.

Wang Shuo had guessed right. They still weren’t confident enough! Conceding a goal in such a manner against a team like Chelsea had left them panicked, flustered, and second-guessing themselves.

Wang Shuo slowly walked forward. As he passed by Subotic, he didn’t need to say a word; he simply held out his hand, and the Serbia center-back gave him a firm high-five.

"Aaron!" Wang Shuo slapped a heavy hand down on Aaron Ramsey’s shoulder. "You said before that our team had found its confidence. What about now? Is your confidence really this cheap?

"We spent nine league games and three Champions League matches painstakingly building up our belief, only for it to be completely destroyed by a single goal from the opposition?

"Have you never conceded from a corner kick before? Or a header?

"Think about it. Will Chelsea’s jerseys bite you? Is the turf at Stanford Bridge burning your feet?

"What exactly are you so afraid of?"

Aaron Ramsey was thoroughly intimidated by the sheer aura Wang Shuo suddenly exuded, and provoked by his harsh words. The Wales midfielder desperately wanted to defend himself. "I—"

"Don’t explain! Hold it in and show me on the pitch!"

Wang Shuo let go of Aaron Ramsey and slowly walked over to stand in front of Alexandre Song. He suddenly reached out with both hands and cupped Alexandre Song’s face, leaning in so close that his breathing practically brushed against the other man’s skin.

"Alexander, what did you promise me before? What did you say? Have you forgotten it all?"

A fierce glint flashed through Alexandre Song’s eyes as he shouted in a deep voice, "I haven’t forgotten!"

"Then go do it!"

Wang Shuo paced around the locker room in front of the players before finally returning to his original spot.

"A 1-2 scoreline is no big deal. Our cowardice is!"

As he said this, his entire body radiated such a terrifying aura that all the players instinctively shrank back.

"We’ve kept saying that we need to tell the world that Arsenal’s era of fragility is over!

"Today is the perfect opportunity!

"At Stamford Bridge Stadium, against Chelsea, a 12:45 PM kickoff broadcast live to the entire world!

"It’s today, right in this stadium, that we’re going to completely bid farewell to the Arsenal of the past!"

Everyone in the locker room stared at Wang Shuo, their gazes glued to him. At this very moment, they saw an all-or-nothing resolve radiating from him, along with an absolute conviction in victory!

"As for how we should play in the second half, I don’t have any great suggestions.

"If you’re asking me what my strategy is?

"I’m sorry, but I only have one strategy: fight to the bitter end!

"On the pitch of Stanford Bridge, for every inch of turf, we fight to the bitter end!"