GRANDMAESTA_30
patreon
Chapter 180: Round Of 16, Second Leg
🕑 Added 2025-10-08 17:44:50 +0000 UTCIn Arsenal’s locker room, tension hummed like static before a storm. Jerseys were tugged straight, boots tightened, and the air carried the scent of adrenaline and muscle rub.
Wenger had just finished his tactical briefing. He stepped back quietly, observing his players with folded arms — calm, yet watchful.
But the players weren’t nearly as composed. A few bounced their knees nervously; others sat still, lost in thought. Cazorla twirled a wristband between his fingers. Chamberlain bit at his nails. Even the veterans could feel the weight of the occasion.
Facing a fully armed Bayern Munich was no small task — and everyone knew it.
Wenger’s gaze eventually settled on Kai. The professor gave a small nod — a silent message: it’s your team now.
Kai took a deep breath, rose from his seat, and clapped his hands sharply.
“Hey! Come on, guys — heads up!” His voice cut through the anxious quiet.
Dozens of eyes turned toward him.
“You’ve got to believe you’re the best out there,” Kai said, scanning the room. “Because if you don’t, you’ll never play like it.”
He grinned, pacing slowly between the benches. “We won the first leg, remember? The pressure’s on them — not us. If anyone should be nervous, it’s Bayern.”
A ripple of laughter went around the room. The tension began to crack, just a little.
“Exactly,” Kai continued, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Let them worry.”
He turned toward Suarez.
“And Luis,” he said, smirking, “no biting this time, yeah? We can’t go down to ten men again.”
Suarez glared back, half amused, half insulted.
“Shut up, Kai,” he muttered, but even he couldn’t hold back a grin. The whole locker room burst out laughing.
Kai then nodded toward Chamberlain. “You’re starting again, Ox. But do me a favor — don’t die trying to score one this time. If you’re gonna get a goal, make it a proper one.”
Chamberlain rolled his eyes. “That’s your way of saying I’m brilliant, right? …Right?”
Kai ignored him, chuckling. “Alright, everyone, focus up. It’s showtime.”
He moved to the doorway, slapping palms with each teammate as they passed.
“Szczesny, stay sharp — you’re the last line, don’t forget it.”
“Koscielny, cover for Per when he pushes up.”
“Cazorla — your creativity’s the key tonight. Play free.”
“Rosicky, bring that tempo we love.”
Finally, he turned to Wenger. “Arsène—uh, Professor—”
Wenger raised an eyebrow, amused. “Something you want to remind me of, Captain?”
Kai rubbed his neck awkwardly. “No, it just… slipped out.”
The Frenchman chuckled and gave him a firm pat on the back. “Go on, then. Lead them well, son.”
Kai nodded and stepped out toward the tunnel.
The corridor was long, echoing with muffled roars from the Emirates above. As Arsenal lined up, Bayern’s players emerged on the other side — Ribéry, Schweinsteiger, Neuer… every name a reminder of the mountain ahead.
Kai’s eyes narrowed.
He looked forward as the referee gestured for the teams to walk out. The noise swelled into a deafening wave.
Kai exhaled once, tightened his fists, and shouted, “Let’s go!”
“GUNNERS!” the team roared in unison, their voices echoing down the tunnel.
.
At the Emirates Stadium, the roar of the crowd rolled like thunder through the stands. Red and white flags waved in every corner as the players took their places on the pitch. Every breath, every heartbeat from the fans carried tension — this was a night that would define a season.
As the referee’s whistle cut through the noise, Bayern Munich kicked off.
Mandžukić nudged the ball forward — and instantly, Arsenal pounced.
Suárez sprinted toward the ball like a predator scenting blood. Chamberlain, Walcott, and Cazorla surged up alongside him, pressing high, their boots moving against the turf.
“Arsenal are right up there early!” Martin Taylor’s voice carried through the commentary box. “They’re pressing Bayern with real intent.”
“Exactly,” Alan Smith replied. “Wenger’s men know they can’t let Bayern settle into rhythm. That early pressure is key.”
Under that pressure, Kroos was forced to turn and quickly lay it off to Robben.
Robben received it near the halfway line, intending to swivel and accelerate — but froze when he saw who was waiting.
Kai.
“Ah, not him again,” Robben muttered under his breath, his expression hardening. Every time he’d faced the Arsenal captain recently, things had gone wrong. The Dutchman’s instincts told him to run — his pride told him to fight.
He tried to shift his weight, feinting to his left. But Kai read it instantly. In a flash, the midfielder closed in, his timing perfect.
A sharp lunge — a controlled tackle — and the ball was gone before Robben could even think of his next move.
Unfortunately, the bounce of the ball was favorable and returned to Kroos.
“Brilliant tackle from Kai!” shouted Martin Taylor. “Robben just can’t get past him!”
“Confidence, Martin — that’s what we’re seeing,” Alan Smith added. “Robben doesn’t fancy it anymore. Kai’s completely in his head.”
The Arsenal captain didn’t celebrate. He simply adjusted his armband and jogged back into position, calm and focused. His job tonight wasn’t glory — it was survival.
Moments later, Bayern switched play to the opposite flank. Ribéry, with his trademark intensity, took possession. His scarred face glistened under the lights. Unlike Robben, he didn’t hesitate. He charged forward, muscles rippling, boots driving into the turf.
But Kai was already there.
“Here comes Ribéry!” Martin Taylor called.
“Kai’s closing in again — look at that aggression!”
Kai stepped up, body low, timing perfect. Ribéry tried to turn with his back to the goal, but Kai didn’t give him the luxury of space.
Ribéry twisted, searching for an opening, but the Arsenal captain shadowed him, cutting off every possible angle.
“Pass it! Pass it!” Kroos shouted from the middle.
Ribéry hesitated, then looked up — too late. Cazorla and Chamberlain had swooped in, combining with Kai to swarm him.
A blur of boots, a touch, a tackle — and suddenly the ball was Arsenal’s.
Cazorla spun quickly and sent a neat pass upfield to start a counterattack, which came up unfruitful.
“That’s outstanding from Arsenal’s midfield!” Martin Taylor’s voice lifted. “Kai again — two for two against Bayern’s wingers!”
Alan Smith laughed. “He’s made Robbéry duo look ordinary so far. That’s no small feat — we’re talking about two of Europe’s deadliest wide men.”
The Emirates was roaring now, a wall of sound that shook the foundations. The fans were loving every second of it.
But Kai wasn’t fooled. He knew Bayern weren’t beaten — not yet.
As he tracked back into shape, he noticed Kroos pushing higher up the pitch. Bayern’s midfield line was advancing dangerously close to Arsenal’s penalty area.
“Sagna! Watch Ribéry’s run inside!” Kai shouted, pointing as he dropped deeper.
He knew Ribéry’s pattern — that brutal five-second burst of speed once he found half a yard of space. It was like watching a bullet leave the chamber.
Kai couldn’t allow it.
Sagna nodded, shifting to block the channel. Arsenal’s back line tightened, but Kai could see Kroos still lingering near the edge of the box, calling for the return pass.
He’s too high, Kai thought, reading the play.
Sure enough, Ribéry received it again, dragging Cazorla toward him before threading a pass toward Kroos — but in that split second, something went wrong.
The noise suddenly swelled — a wave of excitement rippling through the stands.
Kroos turned sharply, eyes widening. Arsenal’s No. 4 had just intercepted and launched a pinpoint long pass from deep inside his own half.
The ball sliced through the London air, spinning perfectly toward the space behind Bayern’s right-back, David Alaba.
And there — tearing down the flank — was Chamberlain, already sprinting at full tilt.
Alaba reacted instantly, angling his body to shield the ball. Both players were lightning-fast, their legs blurring as they raced toward the touchline.
“Chamberlain’s after it! Alaba’s matching him stride for stride!” Martin Taylor shouted above the roar of the crowd. “That’s a fantastic pass from Kai — right into the danger zone!”
For several tense seconds, they battled shoulder to shoulder — Chamberlain trying to burst through, Alaba using every ounce of composure to block him off.
Finally, the ball rolled harmlessly out of play.
Martin Taylor groaned, “Ah, that was close! Kai’s pass was exquisite — but Chamberlain just couldn’t get there in time!”
Alan Smith laughed, shaking his head. “He’ll be annoyed with himself for that one. The opportunity was there — just half a second too late on the run.”
Down on the pitch, Chamberlain looked frustrated, breathing heavily. He’d pushed hard, but Alaba’s experience and body control were top class.
Still, part of him couldn’t help but feel guilty. Maybe he’d started too late — he’d reacted after Kai had already released the pass, not before.
Did he expect me to be there sooner? Chamberlain thought, grimacing.
His question was answered instantly.
“Chamberlain!”
Kai’s shout came across to him. Chamberlain nearly flinched out of his boots.
“What kind of run was that?” Kai said with heat. “You have to make use of your time and speed. Got it?”
The young winger froze, then stammered quietly, “Y-yeah… got it.”
Kai said whilst tapping his shoulder. “Good.”
“Per!” Kai shouted next.
“Yes!” Mertesacker responded instantly, voice booming.
Kai squinted. “Why are you shouting?”
Mertesacker blinked. “Just… uh, habit.”
“…Okay,” Kai muttered. “Push higher. Win the first ball.”
“Got it!”
Kai clapped his hands sharply. “Defensive line — stay alert! No one sleeps, not even for a second!”
.
Down on the touchline, Pat Rice shook his head slightly. “If Chamberlain had gone a second earlier, that would’ve been a clear chance.”
Wenger folded his arms beside him, calm despite the chaos. “He’ll learn,” he said simply. “He’s young — mistakes like that are lessons, not losses.”
Pat nodded. “Still, that pass from Kai… incredible vision. Just unlucky in the end.”
Wenger smiled faintly. “That’s why he’s vital to us. Bayern want to press through the wings — Ribéry and Robben are their teeth. But Kai’s presence in the middle changes everything. He’s our shield… and our springboard.”
Indeed, on the pitch, Bayern were beginning to look uncertain. Every time they tried to build through the flanks, they found Kai waiting — cutting angles, shouting instructions, setting traps.
When Arsenal recovered possession, their counterattacks were like loaded springs ready to explode.
“Arsenal’s wingers have pace to burn,” Martin Taylor commented. “Walcott and Chamberlain can break in seconds — it’s just about getting that timing right.”
Alan Smith nodded in agreement. “And with Kai pulling the strings from deep, every interception can turn into an attack. This game’s going to come down to who hits harder when it counts.”
