Chapter 248: Even the relegation team wants to beat Barcelona? (Daily transition)

Alaves Club, located in Vitoria, the capital of Alava Province, Spain.

They have lingered in Segunda División for ten long years, and this season they barely managed to promote to La Liga.

They started with two draws, barely securing a decent prelude to avoiding relegation.

Unfortunately, this weekend they have to visit Camp Nou and face Barcelona's massacre.

The players had long prepared themselves for death.

Atletico Madrid, Real Madrid, and Barcelona occupy the top three spots on the table, and thrashing other La Liga teams is no different from thrashing Segunda División sides.

Thus, this era has the saying of 'Supercopa'.

The club manager's office.

Peterman stared in shock.

"Double the win bonus?"

"Are you fucking crazy?"

"Can we also massacre Barcelona this weekend?"

"A squad worth a few million euros, slaughtering... a few hundred million..."

"Stop dreaming; our task this season is to avoid relegation!"

"Even if Barcelona's bench were tied to a dog, they could easily defeat us, as simple as crushing an ant."

"Get out... If you can beat Barcelona, I'll jump into the Sadu River naked!"

The owner of Alaves Club is famously a 'madman' and a 'miser'.

Being able to defeat Barcelona is not the most important.

The key is the phrase 'double the bonus,' which touched his berserk point.

If you take some time to look into Alaves' transfer investments and club revenue over the past ten years... you'll find that they are truly like an ant before Barcelona.

Head coach Valdaras lifted his glasses, turned, and left the office.

He was never afraid of Enrique's Barcelona.

After watching Li Kang's 'online tutorial,' he felt even more confident.

Celta.

The players watched the match between Barcelona and Arsenal in the tactics meeting room.

If La Masia youth training director Rula were present, he could surely shout out many familiar names.

Exactly.

Celta Club, in this era, is the 'sanctuary' for La Masia's cast-offs.

"We'll meet Barcelona in the seventh round; let's play a counterattack! Their defense is like a pile of shit; we'll imitate Li to disconnect their midfield and front, then tilt our attacking resources to the wings, and also the area between Umtiti and Alba..."

"Barcelona's advancing rhythm is chaotic; we can outmatch them! No need to play counter-attack! Press forward and crush them!"

"If we keep playing like this, we can score four goals against Barcelona... no, five goals!"

"Li is simply handsome!"

"I always felt he would become a superstar since childhood!"

"Don't bullshit, you've stolen his bike!"

"That broken bike, older than my mother, hardly sold for any money."

Meanwhile.

Eindhoven and Monaco were also not idle, their coaching staff busily reviewing the details of the Camp Nou match.

Both sides quickly reached a conclusion:

The situation of the Group of Death is ever-changing.

Barcelona remains an unignorable sniping target!

Li Kang taught everyone how to storm Camp Nou!

Camp Nou.

The home stands were somewhat empty, with many Catalan fans leaving early.

Arsenal fans from all over the world cheered wildly.

The night in Barcelona seemed dyed red and white.

When the final whistle blew.

Messi could no longer endure, painfully sitting on the turf.

His adductor old injury flared up.

This era's Barcelona star made fans' hearts wrench, with dry heaves becoming more frequent, and big and small injuries plaguing him.

Barcelona's team doctor thought Messi had a digestive issue, needing to start from improving his diet.

The Argentina team doctor, however, said: 'Messi is nervous; at that moment, anxiety outweighed everything.'

Whatever the cause, it's not a good omen.

In short.

Messi will only grow more tired in the coming years.

It's worth mentioning that his documentary at this time is titled 'A Canine Person, A Patient'.

On the pitch, hardly any Barcelona players remain standing.

They rarely experience a match where they are completely dominated by the crowd.

Without the advantage of possession, they need to run all over the press... the advantage of static passing likewise vanished.

When being walked like a dog... the consumption of stamina is terribly frightening.

Yinniesita, old and full of old injuries, after playing only half a match lay on the grass panting heavily, recalling how... he and Xavi once had the total running data that once topped the five major leagues.

Rakitic was still standing like nothing had happened.

After all, he was an indestructible all‑round warrior.

After adjusting his gloomy mood, he hesitated a moment, then walked up to Li Kang and took off his jersey.

After several bouts, it was finally his turn.

The magnesium lights flashed wildly.

The reporters were astonished to discover that Barcelona's super engineer and Arsenal's number 10 were actually gesturing… exchanging tactics.

The situation did not remain tense; many players on both sides were old acquaintances, and there were even national‑team teammate relationships.

Mertesacker and Mustafi consoled the head‑bowed, weeping Ter Stegen.

Morata supported Busquets, chatting with him off and on.

"The national team coaching staff worries that Li's Premier League schedule is too congested, so they won't call him up for the friendly against the Strait of Gibraltar."

"I'm in the Premier League too—why am I still being called up?"

"Because you're competing with Diego Costa for a spot, make good use of the chance to gel with the national team."

"Gel? Me and Li at Arsenal are already the best gel."

Morata was often bullied at Real Madrid, developing a "lazy" aversion to fighting.

He couldn't be bothered to think about national‑team matters, so he immediately dumped Busquets and ran, panting, toward Li Kang.

Cazorla grabbed Yinniesita and pulled him up, his mind drifting:

"Barcelona's midfield cornerstone has collapsed… If I and David Silva weren't seriously injured, we could certainly accompany Li all the way and lift that World Cup Trophy two years from now."

After intense exercise, humans always end up with all sorts of chaotic thoughts.

Sanchez was no exception.

After a resounding victory, Chile's grudge against Barcelona faded away.

He paced back and forth, wondering how to express his respect for Li in the days to come.

He no longer dared to insult teammates in the locker room, nor even think about doing so.

Arsenal, through subtle influence, attained an unprecedented unity.

The spectators' thoughts did not wander.

"The Gunners bathed Camp Nou in blood."

"Royalty is not eternal."

"The grand vision of the Dream Four Dynasty is as fragile as a moth under a spotlight."

"Li Kang pulled the trigger, using Barcelona's blood to declare to the world that his era had officially arrived."

"In the history of the two teams' clashes, a shocking massacre has been added."

"As the victorious side's head coach, Wenger can proudly walk off the pitch."

"Camp Nou did not forget Enrique; his reform road still has to pass through a long night… How far must he go before seeing dawn again? No one knows—perhaps tomorrow, perhaps never."

"Congratulations to Arsenal, blessings to Barcelona."

He Wei was very restrained.

After all, it was only a group stage match—who knows, if Barcelona had advanced all the way to the Champions League final, it would have been a resounding slap.

Duan Xuan summed up his remarks:

"Arsenal won 5‑0 at Camp Nou, the group‑stage outlook is now crystal clear."

"Li Kang scored two goals and two assists, single‑handedly creating four goals! He's given us too many thrilling match‑watching experiences—we can't wait to see his next performance!"

Enrique had no intention of resigning voluntarily.

After several minutes of self‑adjustment, confidence returned to his face.

Golden Bullfighter, never give up.

At the post‑match press conference.

Barcelona's head coach faced the media's barrage, his tone firm:

"Arsenal is strong; they invested more than we did in the summer transfer window."

"A single group match proves nothing."

"I must apologize to the Barcelona fans."

"Soon you will witness a brand‑new Barcelona; we still possess dominance!"

He still didn't know… the club's office building was being besieged by Catalonia fans, and Barcelona's upper echelons were in turmoil.

A violent storm was approaching.

On the other side.

Wenger calmly answered the reporters' questions, his tone unusually relaxed:

"My in‑game command is inferior to Li's; the club is preparing to allocate extra wages from the coaching staff to him."

"His handwriting is ugly? Hmm… I'll make sure he does his homework properly."

The reporters burst out laughing.

"Arsenal won't stop at the round of 16 this year."

"Our goal is the Champions League title."

"We will make up for the regret of the Paris final ten years ago."