Chapter 277 9 Vs. 11? Real Madrid, You Are Forcing Me To Open Wushuang!

"Su Luo! Su Luo! Su Luo!"

At the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff, the crowd chanted Su Luo's name in unison. Chelsea fans had even prepared massive tifos, now fully unfurled. The giant banner took up nearly half of the stands, depicting Su Luo in his blue No. 7 jersey, eyes focused and determined. Behind him, the bold colors of the five-star red flag stood out, contrasting sharply with Chelsea's blue.

The powerful display had an immediate impact, boosting the morale of the Chelsea players on the field. Back home, Huaxia fans watching on TV felt chills run down their spines. Many international students and overseas Chinese had traveled to the final, proudly waving their national flags. For some, the sight of Su Luo leading his team on such a grand stage brought tears to their eyes.

Su Luo had become the pride of Chinese football, a hero to all Chinese people. In a sport where China had often been overlooked, Su Luo now stood at the forefront, outshining every other superstar. He was the one shining brightest.

Chelsea had been struggling under relentless pressure, and Real Madrid's second goal seemed inevitable. Although Su Luo's earlier attempt had come close, it at least relieved some of the tension. Even though they hadn't scored, Chelsea's counterattack remained sharp enough to give Madrid pause.

Zidane didn't want to take any risks. He slowed Real Madrid's tempo, unwilling to press too hard and leave an opening for Chelsea. With the score tied 1-1, both teams were biding their time, ready to drag the game into overtime if necessary. Real Madrid had nothing to fear in extra time.

By the 55th minute, the match had settled into a stalemate. Real Madrid controlled possession and patiently probed Chelsea's defense. Chelsea, with fewer players pushing forward, focused on their defense. Lukaku waited up top for his chance to strike, while Su Luo tirelessly tracked back to help his teammates, always keeping an eye out for a counterattack opportunity.

Su Luo had been burning through energy, but he knew it was necessary. Every time he got the ball, he unleashed a burst of speed reminiscent of Ronaldo's explosive runs and Bale's famous acceleration. The effort took its toll, but it also put enormous pressure on Real Madrid. They couldn't afford to let Su Luo run free, knowing it would take more than one defender to stop him.

As the commentator, Director Zhang, watched the game unfold, he laughed. "It seems like Real Madrid is overly cautious about Su Luo's counterattack. They're playing way too conservatively."

"Modric and Kroos are just passing the ball around, keeping it safe. Their forwards are mostly passing backward or sideways," he continued. "In the first half, they were moving and making runs. Now, it seems they're too afraid to lose the ball."

"If they keep this up, Chelsea will only grow more confident in their defense. They need to take more risks."

Chelsea's defense held firm, and with the game clock ticking past 75 minutes, Real Madrid had only managed two long-range shots, neither of which hit the target. Incredibly, they hadn't taken a single shot from inside the box.

Even Conte was puzzled. Was Real Madrid really playing this poorly? Or were they saving their energy for a final offensive push?

Suddenly, the pace of the match shifted.

While Real Madrid's midfield trio passed the ball around in their half, Modric saw an opening. With no Chelsea player marking him, he sent a piercing through-ball forward, exploiting a gap in Chelsea's defense like a sword slicing through their backline.

"Uh oh!" Conte exclaimed.

Just moments earlier, Marcos Alonso had been pulled out of position, and Rudiger had been drawn to the center by Benzema, leaving a gaping hole in Chelsea's defense.

Modric's pass arrived before anyone in Chelsea could react, and a white shirt streaked through the gap—Gareth Bale!

"Bale's made the run! He's into the penalty area!" the commentator shouted.

Chelsea was in real danger. Rudiger, too far away to cover, couldn't help. Fortunately, David Luiz rushed over just in time, blocking Bale's path to cut inside and shoot, trying to force him wide.

Bale hesitated, as if waiting for Ronaldo or Benzema to move into position for a pass. Then, seeing the ball roll just a little too far from Bale's foot, David Luiz seized his moment, lunging in to clear it away.

But Bale was quicker. He poked the ball forward just before Luiz could reach it, and Luiz's leg instead made contact with Bale's.

"Oh no!" Luiz realized too late. Was this a dive?

He immediately pulled back his foot and raised his hands, signaling his innocence. But it was too late. Bale had already gone down in the box!

The whistle pierced through the stadium.

The referee, Blüch, charged forward and pointed straight to the penalty spot.

"No! He didn't mean it! That was a dive!" Chelsea captain Azpilicueta rushed over, mimicking a diving gesture and trying to argue Bale had taken a dive.

Ronaldo, long known for his dramatic falls, had earned the nickname "Diving Ronaldo" years ago, and Gareth Bale, dubbed "Little Monkey" by some, had a similar reputation. During his time at Tottenham, Bale had picked up four yellow cards for simulation, with even Suarez jokingly calling him an expert at diving.

Since joining Real Madrid, Bale had toned down his theatrics. But in critical moments, his acting skills still came in handy. Falling to the ground in the penalty area was a specialty of his.

And sure enough, David Luiz had made just enough contact for Bale to milk it.

No shot, no passing option—falling down was the smartest play he could make. And it worked.

Bale lay on the ground, clutching his ankle, rolling around in apparent agony. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as the referee signaled for the penalty.

"Penalty!" Bale almost jumped up in excitement.

At the same time, Cristiano Ronaldo, Benzema, Marcelo, Ramos, and others swarmed around the referee, pressuring him.

"Ref, that foul was too harsh! I saw it clearly—he kicked him on purpose!" Ramos insisted.

"There's no doubt, it's a clear foul!" Benzema added.

Ronaldo, always calculating, made a subtle gesture, suggesting a card. "Referee, number 4 already has a yellow..." he reminded, quietly but firmly.

It might seem unsportsmanlike, but in the pursuit of a Champions League title, Ronaldo wasn't about to hold back. After all, in the 2006 World Cup, when Rooney's foul could have gone either way, Ronaldo didn't hesitate to call for a card. He knew that in the quest for victory, even his closest friends weren't spared. Against his rivals? No mercy.

Ronaldo lived by a simple truth: the winner takes all. If you win the championship, no one cares how you did it. If you lose, even playing fair won't save you.

Su Luo thought about arguing with the referee, but seeing the determination in Blüch's eyes, he knew it was pointless. The decision was made. David Luiz had indeed made contact—there was no escape.

Sure enough, not only did the referee award Real Madrid a penalty, but he also showed David Luiz a second yellow card, sending him off.

This was the Champions League final. Chelsea was already struggling after going a man down, and now they were facing a penalty and a red card. The combination practically handed the trophy to Real Madrid.

"Are you blind? How can you miss that dive?! What's wrong with you?" Conte exploded, unable to stay calm anymore. His frustration, building up throughout the match, erupted.

"I'll appeal! I'll report this!" he shouted furiously, storming toward the fourth official, his face red with anger. But the official shot him a stern look.

"Watch your words! Accusing us of bias could get you punished!" the official warned.

Fortunately, Chelsea's assistant, Holland, quickly pulled Conte back before he went too far. The Italian coach was livid, his eyes filled with rage, and it looked like he was on the verge of throwing punches.

On the other side, Zidane remained composed, sitting calmly on the bench with a faint smile. Everyone could see what had happened—Gareth Bale had taken advantage of the situation.

David Luiz had barely touched him, if at all, but Bale had gone down deliberately. Still, contact was contact, and the referee had made his call. It was too late to change anything now.

David Luiz stood frozen in disbelief, holding his head in his hands as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Two players sent off... Chelsea's done for now," one commentator sighed.

"How do nine players stand a chance against eleven?" The broadcasters from around the world fell silent, sharing a collective sense of sympathy for Chelsea.

Even the commentators from Madrid TV couldn't help but admit, "As a loyal Real Madrid supporter, I have to say, this feels a bit harsh. A penalty was fine, but the red card? Unnecessary."

"This was shaping up to be a great final, but now it feels lopsided. Nine against eleven? Real Madrid is practically unbeatable in this situation."

Back in Huaxia, fans watching in bars were furious, hurling insults at the screen. Commentators He Wei and Zhan Jun tried to keep their composure.

"In football, you never know what's going to happen next," He Wei remarked. "But this decision will definitely spark debate after the match."

"How will Chelsea respond to such a desperate situation with only nine men left on the field? That's the real question," Zhan Jun added. "The only thing we can count on now is Su Luo. He's the kind of player who thrives in adversity."

Quoting the French writer Romain Rolland, He Wei continued, "There is only one true heroism in the world, and that is to see the reality of life and still love it. Su Luo is a hero like that."

"The Chelsea players need to stay calm, find a way to withstand Real Madrid's attack, and somehow equalize the score," Zhan Jun said. "They can't give up, not until the very last moment!"

Zhan Jun's voice grew excited. "Nine against eleven and time's running out! Chelsea is in a desperate situation! But there have been cases in football history where teams have won with fewer players."

"The most recent example was in Serie A earlier this year. AC Milan, with just nine players, managed to defeat Bologna, who had all eleven! That was an incredible moment in the final stages."

"And they say Su Luo is a man who creates miracles. So, who knows? Maybe we can believe in him one more time."

The whistle blew as Ronaldo approached the penalty spot. He took his shot with powerful precision, striking the ball with his right foot. It bounced slightly as he hit it—a "volley draw point."

Courtois guessed the right direction, but the power behind Ronaldo's shot made it impossible to stop. The ball soared into the net.

Real Madrid took the lead, 2-1.

Ronaldo had scored twice—once with a header, now with a penalty. Forgetting his usual celebration, he raced to the sidelines, sliding on his knees in pure joy.

"Su Luo, can you still resist? Can you turn this around?" Ronaldo looked triumphantly in Su Luo's direction, only to find the Chelsea players huddled around Su Luo, listening intently to him.

"Huh? Can this really not break them?" Ronaldo thought, surprised.

On the Chelsea side, Su Luo looked around at his remaining teammates. "Brothers, I know it seems impossible. But we can't give up. If we quit now, there's no hope at all."

He pointed toward the trophy. "Look at that championship trophy. I promise you, you'll get to touch it. This title belongs to us. No one's taking it away."

The Chelsea players, whose morale had hit rock bottom, stared at Su Luo in disbelief. His confidence was unwavering. Was it really possible to win the championship after all?

As long as their leader stood tall, there was still hope.

Su Luo clenched his fists. Real Madrid had taken the lead, and Chelsea was down to nine men. It looked hopeless, but Su Luo's anger was reaching its peak. The match wasn't over yet.

He just needed one or two fouls to unleash his unstoppable mode. Five minutes—that's all it would take to change the course of the game.

Su Luo knew it was best to wait until the final five minutes to unleash his full power and avoid any setbacks. With 79 minutes on the clock, and about 15 minutes left including stoppage time, all Chelsea had to do was hold on for 10 more minutes without conceding any more goals.

Then Su Luo could take control and finish it all.

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