The home team's dressing room at the Emirates Stadium.
Cesc Fàbregas felt deeply guilty; he kept his head down, not daring to meet Arsène Wenger's eyes. Nor did he dare to look his teammates in the eye.
What was originally a golden opportunity for the team had turned into the key factor in Borussia Dortmund's two-goal lead. The 21-year-old Fàbregas suddenly felt unworthy of the captain's armband on his right arm.
"Why do you all have such long faces?"
Eh?
The Arsenal players raised their heads one after another. They had expected Wenger to be in a thunderous rage and give them a harsh scolding. To their surprise, Wenger remained as elegant as ever, even wearing a slight smile.
"Thought I was going to yell at you? I certainly want to, but yelling at you won't do any good. The priority now is to solve the problems on the pitch. How to win is the key—"
"Since things have come to this, let's forget about those away goals, forget about the opponent's winning streak, and shed all our burdens. The tens of thousands of people outside who spent over a hundred pounds on tickets didn't come to see you lose. This is North London, this is the Emirates Stadium, and you are the masters here. Remember how we practised on the training ground? Remember how you met the ball on the Premier League pitches? Recall that feeling and play our game. Alright, go on. Don't let the fans down."
That's right, we are Arsenal. We, Arsenal, are invincible.
Originally, these players still had a trace of hesitation and confusion in their hearts—could they really complete a comeback at home?
Borussia Dortmund's sharp attack and the difficult-to-handle Jin Hayes seemed unstoppable. But as Robin van Persie, Fàbregas, Theo Walcott, Bacary Sagna, and the others walked out of the tunnel and onto the pitch one by one, there were no boos of disdain from the Emirates Stadium stands. Instead, tens of thousands of people were singing in unison.
At that moment, everyone's voices resonated through the stands, echoing over the skies of North London. Courage and strength—those intangible concepts—became tangible blessings, pouring into the bodies of every Arsenal player.
"North London forever / Whatever the weather / These streets are our own / And my heart will leave you never / My blood will forever / Run through the stone..."
North London Forever, the standard anthem of Arsenal's home ground. Even ordinary spectators who had never followed football and weren't Arsenal fans couldn't help but sing along at this moment, let alone those Arsenal die-hards, who sang with tears in their eyes.
Jin Hayes walked onto the pitch with his teammates at this moment, preparing for the second half. This spectacular scene left him clicking his tongue in amazement.
"Impressive."
"Their home atmosphere is quite good. Of course, just a little bit behind ours."
"The song is actually pretty nice."
Mats Hummels, Nuri Şahin, and the other teammates were also deeply shaken.
"Alright, we can't relax in the second half. I have a feeling they won't be that easy to deal with."
Jin Hayes's premonitions were always very accurate.
Not long after the second half began, Arsenal launched a series of attacks, trying to speed up the tempo—faster, faster, and faster still. Borussia Dortmund was already the team with the relatively fastest tempo in the Bundesliga, but the Bundesliga pace still seemed a bit slow compared to the Premier League.
At their home ground, Arsenal actually took the initiative to abandon defence, turning instead to a wide-open, frantic offensive. Whenever they had the ball, the two full-backs practically became wingers, charging forward without a second thought. The moment they lost the ball, they would counter-press on the spot, interfering with Dortmund's distribution from the back and midfield.
Seeing this style of play, Jürgen Klopp couldn't help but look at Wenger on the other side.
"Wow, copying me?"
"No, Arsenal originally played like this; it's just their defence that's borrowed some of our positioning and coordination." Željko Buvač commented dryly.
"They've got something."
Even though his team was being pinned back by Arsenal, Klopp actually grinned fiercely.
In a high-tempo game of attack and defence, it came down to the accuracy of the players' one-touch passing, as well as their support speed and stamina. In terms of speed and stamina, Borussia Dortmund was not at a disadvantage. But in terms of progression efficiency, Dortmund's weaknesses were infinitely magnified in such a fast-paced game. Seeing Arsenal repeatedly threatening the goal while Dortmund's attacks were riddled with errors, Klopp realised where the problem lay.
"Dortmund's youngsters aren't actually a technical team. Only Şahin and Jin Hayes have good technique. Everyone else needs to stop and process the ball every time they receive it before handing it off to a teammate. This is very common in the Bundesliga. But look at Arsenal's attack this time; several players are making consecutive one-touch passes, and the coordination is incredibly fluid! It's making it impossible for Dortmund to defend in time."
"Here they come again!"
He Wei's heart also tightened. Dortmund's attack was just about to get the ball to Jin Hayes's feet—he was perhaps the only player who could hold onto the ball during a high-speed progression. But Sebastian Kehl's hurried pass failed to reach Jin Hayes, and Abou Diaby intercepted it in time. Arsenal transitioned from defence to attack.
"Diaby to Cesc Fàbregas—beautiful!! That through ball!"
Fàbregas displayed his greatest value. Without stopping the ball in the middle, he sent a one-touch through ball that actually penetrated two of Dortmund's defensive lines—a lethal spear piercing through the Bumblebees' exoskeleton, straight into the heart.
Robin van Persie!! Not offside!!
Mats Hummels gritted his teeth and stepped up to cover, still planning to wait for van Persie to stop the ball before closing in to interfere with his shot. Who could have expected that van Persie wouldn't stop the ball at all.
Stop it for what?
Just hit it as it comes.
Turning his body to hold off Hummels, van Persie unleashed an unreasonable, narrow-angle blast inside the box.
"Motherfucker!"
Roman Weidenfeller's diving save was already too late. Van Persie's shot was like a rocket, skipping across the grass and turning into a blur as it drilled into the bottom corner.
A fatal blow.
Critical.
"Robin van Persie!! OH! A clean, beautiful strike! Arsenal pulls one back with a suffocating attack!! The game is still wide open!"
Martin Tyler let out a long sigh of relief. He saw the hope of winning. Despite his admiration for Jin Hayes, he was English to his core and supported Arsenal more. After scoring, van Persie shouted with dominance, raising his hands to command the entire stadium to cheer and shout. "Arsenal! Arsenal! Arsenal!"
Borussia Dortmund had no complaints about conceding this goal. Jin Hayes knew how to defend, but it was still difficult to withstand Arsenal's rapid penetration. Dortmund was like a swordsman holding a longsword, having initially dealt two charged thrusts that pierced Arsenal's chest. But Arsenal endured the bleeding, and the twin daggers in their hands struck out in a fluid, relentless assault. Dortmund's horizontal parries were actually hard-pressed to keep up, and before they knew it, a vital spot was struck.
1-2.
Arsenal's momentum was like a rising tide as they pulled a goal back at home, continuing to use their best-known method: speeding up the tempo. Since it was a battle of counter-attacks, it was a contest of whose offensive efficiency was higher and who made fewer mistakes. Clearly, Dortmund's operation was not as fluid as Arsenal's.
Jin Hayes had just broken into the box, but his cross to Mario Götze resulted in a shot that missed the target.
Arsenal immediately restarted with a short goal kick, using a series of one-touch passes from the back to reach Fàbregas in midfield, who played a wall pass and then made an overlapping run. They progressed rapidly through a combination of flank and central play.
Bacary Sagna drove deep down the right wing, breaking into the half and crossing to Fàbregas. Cesc flicked the ball with his heel to Abou Diaby to continue the forward movement. Before Jin Hayes could pounce, Diaby played a through ball to find Cesc again. Suddenly, Cesc sent a through ball into the half-space.
Marcel Schmelzer's attention was all on Theo Walcott beside him, and it was that brief moment of distraction that allowed Walcott to complete the overtake.
"Diu lei lo mou!!! He's so damn fast!!"
In his shock, Schmelzer blurted out a Cantonese curse he had just learned. He gritted his teeth and chased with his head down, but he still couldn't catch Walcott. The opponent was the famous Premier League speedster, a product of Southampton's academy. The 'Little Tiger' overtook on the outside, carried the ball into the box, and used his experience to position himself in front of the ball, cutting off Schmelzer's recovery path. Glancing at the centre out of the corner of his eye, he decisively fired a low cross.
"Robin van Persie!!! A sliding finish into the net!! Arsenal has pulled back two goals in three minutes, bringing the score to 2-2!" Martin Tyler shouted passionately with a slightly raspy voice.
"No!! They've conceded again!! Van Persie's shot!" German commentator Mehmet Scholl wailed, holding his head. "Van Persie! The goal is in!"
"Speed is the ultimate weapon! Arsenal's consecutive fast breaks have found their rhythm! A powerful equaliser!" Although He Wei felt a bit of regret for Jin Hayes, the back-and-forth counter-attacking in this match was indeed tense and exciting. For neutral fans, it was impossible to feel sleepy.
Only then did Cesc Fàbregas breathe a sigh of relief. While his teammates were embracing van Persie in wild celebration, Fàbregas slowly approached Jin Hayes.
"How about it, Jin? It's not too late to surrender now."
???
Jin Hayes glanced at Cesc as if he were looking at an idiot.
"Have you been reading too many comics?"
"What?"
"My friend, this is a professional match, a Champions League knockout stage." Jin Hayes spread his hands and slowly walked back to his half. Fàbregas's long-brewing mockery not only failed to work but instead left him quite frustrated.
After a few steps, Jin Hayes stopped. Cesc thought he couldn't help but get angry, but Jin Hayes had just casually remembered something and turned his head to give a faint reminder.
"By the way, we have a two-away-goal advantage."
Turning back to his own half, Jin Hayes didn't even need to look to know what Cesc's expression was. His mischievous streak was finally satisfied. Who told this guy to initiate the mockery?
Having conceded two goals in a row, Jin Hayes felt a bit uncomfortable at first, but he wasn't worried about anything. If Arsenal had just surrendered and let Dortmund thrash them by a large margin, it would have been a bit dull and boring. Both sides playing counter-attacking football, back and forth—that was what made it exciting. Sure enough, to improve the team's overall level, one still had to face off against top-tier opponents.
"This is the Arsenal I want to defeat! Come on, let's have a good fight!"